Beneath the Hood

October.

The rain had started before sunrise.

Tessa Gray sat by the small bedroom window, her knees pulled against her chest as drops of water rolled down the glass. The room smelled of old books, dust, and the lavender candle her mother had bought months before she died.

She never lit it.

She couldn't.

Not yet.

The house was silent except for the television downstairs and the occasional creaking of old pipes. Her aunt Sandy had already left for work. Jack was still asleep on the couch.

At least she hoped he was.

Tessa glanced at the clock.

6:14 a.m.

She had forty minutes before school.

Forty minutes before another day of pretending.

Slowly, she stood and walked toward the mirror hanging on the closet door. The bruise on her shoulder had turned dark purple overnight. The one on her ribs still hurt when she breathed too deeply.

She carefully pulled the sleeve of her oversized hoodie higher.

Hidden.

Just like always.

Her fingers moved to the silver necklace around her neck—the only thing she had left from her mother.

"Don't let the world make you smaller."

Her mother's voice had become a memory now.

Three months.

Three months since the funeral.

Three months since Tessa had cried herself to sleep every night.

Three months since she had become completely alone.

She opened her sketchbook lying beside the bed.

On the first page was a drawing of a forest.

On the second, a small cabin.

On the third, a girl standing at the edge of the world.

Running.

Always running.

A loud crash downstairs made her jump.

Jack.

Her heart immediately started pounding.

"Tessa!" his voice echoed through the house.

She closed the sketchbook.

"Tessa!"

"I'm coming."

When she walked downstairs, Jack sat at the kitchen table with a beer already open.

It wasn't even seven.

His eyes slowly moved over her.

She hated when he looked at her like that.

"Your aunt left breakfast money."

He tossed two dollars onto the table.

Tessa reached for them.

His hand suddenly grabbed her wrist.

She froze.

"You could at least say thank you."

"Thank you."

His fingers tightened.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then he smiled.

That smile.

The one that made her skin crawl.

"You're getting prettier every day."

She pulled her hand away.

"I'll miss the bus."

He laughed.

"You always run."

Because staying was worse.

Outside, the cold air hit her face.

The bus arrived three minutes later.

Nobody spoke to her.

Nobody ever did.

Tessa sat alone in the last seat, pulling her hood over her head.

When the school finally appeared through the fog, her stomach twisted.

Hallways.

Whispers.

Laughter.

Madison Carter.

Chloe Bennett.

Brianna Cole.

And the boys.

Especially Dylan Smith.

The golden boy.

The ranch heir.

The boy with dark eyes who sometimes laughed with them and sometimes looked away.

She had never understood which one was the real Dylan.

But it didn't matter.

People like him didn't notice girls like her.

Tessa lowered her eyes and stepped off the bus.

Another day.

Just survive another day.8