1 The slap was so fast I never even saw it coming. CRACK. The sound was sharp, absolute, echoing in the sudden silence of the classroom. I just... I was completely stunned. My left cheek went from numb to searing hot in a single heartbeat, like a fresh burn. I stumbled back, my shoulder hitting the edge of a desk. My books and pens scattered, clattering to the floor. “You awake now?” Liam’s voice was ice. I looked up, my hand trembling as I brought it to my face. He was a silhouette against the bright morning light, framed in a fuzzy, golden halo. But his eyes... his eyes were like knives. My own eyes started to burn. The entire class was frozen. You could have heard a pin drop. And then Sasha—of course, it was Sasha—wandered over, that lazy, amused smirk on her face. She was fiddling with a mini-Rubik's Cube, of all things. "Damn, Liam," she drawled, "you really clocked her." She tilted her head, studying my face like I was a bug. "Aww, look. You made our little princess cry." It was only then I realized she was right. My hands were shaking, and hot tears were streaming down my face. I touched my lip. I tasted copper. He’d made me bleed. My ears were ringing, a high-pitched, buzzing whine. "Go cry at home," Liam said, his voice flat with disgust. "I'm not dealing with this." He didn't even look at me. "Stop making a scene." That broke the spell. The whispering started. Guys in the back whistled. Someone's phone was up, recording. The tears were so thick I couldn't see. They dripped off my chin, leaving dark, wet spots on my uniform. Yesterday. It was just yesterday. He'd sat on my porch, laughing, eating the lunch I’d packed for him. “This is amazing, Ava,” he’d said, his voice so soft. “You’re the best.” And now? He was standing ten feet away, looking at me like I was a stranger. I ran. The second I hit the hallway, the laughter from the room erupted behind me. The cool air was a shock, making the tears and my stinging cheek burn even more. I've never been slapped in my life. I never knew tears could feel this hot, like they were scalding my skin. But the worst part, the part that was making it hard to breathe, was that the person who did it was Liam. The boy I’ve known my whole life. The one who promised he would always, always protect me. 2 Liam and I weren't just "childhood friends." We were... an entity. We lived across the hall from each other in the same apartment building. Our parents have been best friends for over a decade. My entire life, I was his shadow. In elementary school, this one boy, Jason, was relentless. He’d pull my braids, spit on my chair, put trash in my desk. I cried to the teacher, and she just said, "Oh honey, he just has a crush on you." That night, Liam's dad was at our apartment for dinner. He heard me telling my mom. He just called Liam into the room. "Liam. Tomorrow, you protect your sister." The next day at recess, Liam, who was already a head taller than everyone, walked straight up to Jason, grabbed him by the shirt, and dragged him behind the gym. I hid and watched. He beat the crap out of him. "You ever touch Ava again," he said, "I'll break your arm." That’s when it started. That’s when I knew. He was my hero. After that, I was glued to him. He’d huff, "Stop following me, Ava!" But I'd just trail behind, calling his name. He’d pretend to be annoyed, but I'd find him in the library, and he'd roll his eyes and say, "God, you're a parasite," but he'd always, always slide over to make room for me on the bench. Time just... evaporated. And sometime in middle school, he changed. I’d catch him staring. He’d blush when I sat too close. In eighth grade, at a barbecue, his dad joked, "We should just arrange their marriage now!" Liam didn't say anything. He just… under the table… he found my hand and held it. His palm was so warm. I just blurted out, "I'D MARRY HIM!" and all the adults laughed. That perfect, simple world lasted until sophomore year. It ended the day our homeroom teacher walked in with Sasha. "This is Sasha Jensen." The light from the window hit her, and she just... she glowed. She scanned the room, and when her eyes landed on me, she just... laughed. A loud, sharp bark. "So," she said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "I heard this class had a 'princess.' Who is it?" The room went silent. "Oh," she said, her eyes zeroing in. "The one who follows the cute guy around like a lost puppy?" My face burned. I could feel everyone looking. I'd always stuck by Liam, but no one had ever said it... like that. "Oops," Sasha said, covering her mouth. "Was that too real?" She tilted her head, her eyes full of fake pity. "I mean, it's high school. It's a little... weird. Don't you think?" "Sasha!" Liam stood up. The sound of his chair scraping was violent. "Shut up." She just smiled. At him. And her whole face softened. "What? Am I wrong?" Then she leaned in, and whispered, just loud enough for the first few rows to hear, "Or is she just... you know... really annoying?" And Liam… he just… he hesitated. He didn't defend me. He just slowly... sat back down. The teacher, finally, took control. "Sasha, the only open seat is... right there." In front of Liam. When the bell rang, I went to find him. He was already walking down the hall. With her. Laughing. She looked back at me, over her shoulder. And she smiled. A bright, triumphant, horrible smile. That afternoon, I walked home alone. I still had the bubble tea I’d bought for him in my bag. The setting sun made my shadow long and lonely. I thought about what she’d said, and I thought about Liam’s silence. It felt like I had something stuck in my throat. From that day on, Sasha was a stone dropped in the smooth, calm pond of my life, and the ripples scattered everything. 3 I don’t remember when he started to change. It was slow, then all at once. Our ritual was that he'd bring me a hot pretzel from the cafeteria every morning. The day after Sasha arrived, he brought me a yogurt parfait. “I hate yogurt,” I said, my voice small. “It’s healthier,” he mumbled, not looking up from his phone. “Stop being so picky. You eat too much junk food anyway.” And then Sasha bounced up to his desk, holding the exact same yogurt. “Thanks, Liam! You’re a lifesaver!” She looked at me, her smile all sugar. “Sorry, Ava. I told him I couldn't live without these. You don't mind, right?” “What is your problem?” I stood up, my chair scraping. “Whoa, just a joke.” She put her hands up, fake-innocent. “God, so sensitive.” Liam grabbed my arm. “Ava, stop. She’s just… she’s blunt. Don’t be so dramatic.” Dramatic. The word hit me like a stone. I ripped my arm away. “Right. I’m the problem. Not the girl who’s here to make trouble.” “Ava!” His voice was a warning. I was so angry I couldn’t see straight. I just shoved him. “Stop defending her! What's wrong with you?” He stumbled, grabbing my wrist. For a second, I saw the old Liam. His anger faded. “Hey... okay, okay. I’m sorry. My fault. I’ll get you a pretzel tomorrow. Deal?” I almost... I almost cried with relief. But then I saw Sasha's face. She was watching us, and her expression wasn't amused. It was... it was pure venom. 4 Her campaign started after that. It was subtle. She was smart. When we were picking partners in Chem lab, I was struggling to carry the heavy equipment cart. She’d clap her hands. “Oh, look! The princess is struggling! Someone, quick, a white knight! Go help her!” The guys would laugh. During the school cleanup day, I was wiping down a broom handle. She’d gasp, "Oh my god, you guys, she's... she's disinfecting the broom. That is... that is next-level." The boys would howl. They'd imitate me, mincing around. Liam... at first... he’d say, “Sasha, knock it off.” But she’d just laugh and loop her arm through his. “What? I’m just trying to get her to lighten up! She’s always so serious.” And he... he started to believe her. "She's kind of right, Ava," he told me. "You are really tense." After spring break, I’d gotten a tan. I wore my favorite pink dress. Sasha saw me and shrieked. “Oh my GOD! Who wears pink when they’re that dark? She looks like a... like a little black dog in a tutu!” Something in me snapped. I was holding a wet wipe from cleaning my desk. I just... I marched over and I wiped it, hard, right down her perfectly made-up face. The line of foundation and bronzer on the wipe was dark. “You psycho!” she screamed, pawing at her face. “Look at that,” I said, my voice shaking. “All that makeup just to look 'natural.' No wonder you're so good at faking it.” I turned to go to the bathroom, to wash the gunk off my hand. Liam grabbed my arm. "Apologize." “What? She called me a dog!” “And you... you hit her. Now, apologize.” He was holding her. He was protecting her. I looked at him. This stranger. “Go to hell,” I said. And that’s when he slapped me. The classroom was dead silent. I touched my burning cheek, and I just... I started to laugh. Eighteen years. All of it... gone. For a new girl he'd known for a few months. I turned and walked out. I heard Sasha, her voice dripping with fake concern, "Oh, Liam, don't... she's just having a tantrum..." And Liam... my Liam... was comforting her.
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