Pretty Hurts.

I swiped my lip gloss while leaning against the restroom counter. Blair looks at me across the mirror, noticeably scowling.

"So, did you do it? She asks,

I act as though I have no idea what she's getting at. As I ask her what she means, I keep putting on my lip gloss.

She gets impatient enough to approach me and pretends to adjust my uniform.

"You know," she continues slowly after failing to find the right words, "did you... sleep with him?"

I turn to face her, my smile saccharine enough to give some severe cavities.

I reach out, gently pushing a limp piece of her flat-ironed, over bleached disaster hair behind her ear—like I’m comforting her. Like I care. dumbasss

“Obviously,” I say, like it’s the most casual thing in the world. Like this isn’t the most loaded question she’s ever asked me: “We’ve been together for two years. He’s obsessed with me. Loyal, devoted, all that fairy tale stuff.”

I give a light laugh, like I’m telling her in on a secret.

“It was kind of overdue, honestly. We had the whole hotel suite, rose petals, and the view. Very movie moment.”

Her smile strains, eyes flashing. Mine sharpens.

“Anyway” I add sweetly, brushing invisible lint off her shoulder, “he only has eyes for me. Always has.”

Jealous Bitch.

I slept with Jace yesterday, and Blair has been (not so secretly) vying for my boyfriend's attention. She thinks I haven't noticed, which is why I gave in to his pushing. He had already left the hotel room this morning before I was up

No message explaining his absence. But then again, he was probably busy with football practice.

Our heels clicked as we left the bathroom together. Blair starts to talk about how she is considering getting “chocolate matcha glazed nails” but I stop listening. Jace still hasn’t contacted me, and my gut churns at the thought. It was unlike him, this dismissive behavior. I knew losing your virginity wasn't always pleasurable, but he seemed to enjoy himself last night. I really hoped it was practice rather than something I had done.

Blair interrupts my train of thought by asking me if I was listening to her, and I just look at her. I don't even pretend to be guilty because;; unfortunately for her, I don't need her as much as she needs me.

“You’re so oblivious!”

She giggles like it's the funniest joke ever.

Her lip gloss was smudged now, but I didn't tell her because i didn't care.

She is still giggling as she asks me if yesterday was any good.

I laugh and talk about how absolutely amazing it was and how talented Jace is.

It was about as true as a Real Housewife swearing she 'doesn’t like drama.'

I had tried—really tried—to enjoy it. Told myself it meant something.

But it was all sharp pain and awkward silences. His hands didn’t feel tender.

He didn’t look at me like he saw me. Just like he wanted to get it over with. Mostly, I just felt... hollow.

Like I’d been waiting for a moment that never really arrived. And now I was supposed to pretend it was everything I wanted.

My dating Jace made my mother happy. It also helped that his mother had some great Hollywood connections. Which was all my mother was really after.

____

The rest of the school day dragged. I barely payed attention. My eyes kept drifting to my phone like it owed me something. I had cheer practice at 3, so I headed over to the lockers, checking my phone for maybe the 300th time today

It’s been 3 hours since he read my message.

Three hours and twenty-three minutes, actually. I keep telling myself it’s fine—he’s probably just busy. I bite the inside of my cheek.

I walk into the empty locker room. And check the clock above the entryway.

I throw my bags on the floor and check my phone again. Still nothing.

I type, “Hey, is everything okay?” Then delete it. Too needy.

I try “lol that was random” to play it off. Delete. Too fake.

Why hasn’t he texted back?

Maybe he’s mad. maybe I said something wrong. Maybe he's—

My phone buzzes.

I snatch it up off the bench, heart racing.

It's just a stupid group chat.

Of course it is.

I sigh and fight the urge throw my phone across the room

_____

The gym hallway was quiet, echoing with the faint sound of sneakers squeaking and laughter bouncing off tile walls. I wasn’t even supposed to be here. I had left my water bottle in the cheer closet, and Coach had made it very clear we were to be “hydrated or dead.” So I cut across the back hallway of the boys’ locker room—not in it, obviously—but the shortcut.

Then I heard it.

His voice.

Its Jace.

“Dude, I swear to God, I only stayed with her because my mom loves the whole ‘future Hollywood royalty’ thing.”

My feet froze. I flattened myself against the wall without thinking.

He laughed. So did the others. Three distinct voices. Locker doors slammed. Someone sprayed deodorant.

“But she’s so hot, man,” someone else chimed in. “You seriously haven’t hit that until now?”

“Oh, I hit it. Last night, finally.”

He said it so casually I almost thought I’d imagined it.

My body froze

The door to the locker room wasn’t shut all the way. A wedge of yellow light spilled into the hallway. I hovered, breath caught, every nerve screaming at me to move—but I didn’t. I stayed.

“I mean,” he went on, “I already got what I wanted. Took long enough with all her”

Someone whistled. “Damn. So the virgin act was real?”

“Unfortunately.” He laughed. “And let me tell you—so not worth the wait.”

My fingers curled into my sleeves. The hallway blurred for a second.

“It was like... Kinda stiff. Real needy. I had to fake being into it so she didn’t cry or some shit. She just lay there like she was doing me a favor or something. Tried to cuddle after”

The others cracked up. One of them imitated a baby voice: “Do you still love me? Was I good?”

“She literally asked me if I saw our relationship going somewhere,” he said, laughing. “Like, what is this, some fairy tale drama?”

Another voice—probably Tyler—cackled

His tone dropped lower, crueler.

“Please. I’ve only stuck around because my mom’s been pushing me to keep it going. She thinks her little future actress act helps with our image. Plus, she’s tight with that casting guy at Sony; he said he’s got a teen drama in the works. If anyone’s getting something out of this relationship, it’s me.”

“You’re cold, bro.”

“Nah,” he said. “I’m just not stupid. And anyway… I’ve already been talking to Blair on the side. She actually knows how to have fun.”

My chest went hollow.

My teeth clenched.

“Blair is hot” someone said. “you smashing or what?”

“Give it a week. She’s been texting me all night—unlike someone who’s probably still sitting around waiting for a ‘good morning’ text that’s not coming”

My heel scraped against the floor as I stumbled backward.

Clang.

The laughter stopped.

“Yo—what was that?”

I turned fast, pulse thundering in my ears. I didn’t wait to be caught.

“Babe?”

His voice followed me. “Wait—hold up. You there?”

I walked faster. My vision blurred. I didn’t want him to see me like this—humiliated and bleeding trust. I’d rather burn to death in heat furnace. than let him feel powerful. I burst through the gym doors and into the afternoon light.

I didn’t stop.

I didn’t scream.

I just kept walking.

I didn’t cry...but God, id wanted to

I was shaking, but my face stayed blank. Perfectly Pretty.

Because that’s what girls like me do.

We don’t cry in school hallways. Especially not over boys.