’This isn’t right.’
The girls who had laughed and joked with her just yesterday were now avoiding her gaze like she was some kind of disease.
’This wasn’t supposed to happen.’
The boys who used to trip over themselves to get her attention were now pointedly looking away, pretending like they didn’t even know her.
’This is so fucking wrong!’
Kiera screamed internally as she forced herself to walk over to the group of girls she still wanted to believe were her friends.
She pasted on a tight smile, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Hey, what’s going on? Why is everyone acting weird?"
One of the girls snorted and crossed her arms.
"You really don’t know?"
Kiera blinked.
"What...?"
Another girl sighed dramatically, as if she couldn’t believe how clueless Kiera was.
"Haa... you’re seriously screwed."
"I’m screwed? What are you talking about? Just tell me!" Kiera’s voice cracked with frustration.
But her outburst only made the distance between them wider.
"You always acted like you were good at reading the room. Guess not."
The girl smirked coldly.
"Listen, just do us a favor and stay away. We don’t want to get dragged into your mess."
Mess?
Kiera stared at them in disbelief.
"And if you’re still confused, go read the board," the girl added, jerking her chin toward the blackboard.
"After that, do us a favor and don’t come near us again."
It was like a slap across the face.
These weren’t just random classmates—
they were supposed to be her friends.
Her besties.
But now, they were treating her like she was nothing.
Less than nothing.
Not just them either—the entire class was the same.
Whispers behind hands, narrowed eyes, and looks of pure disgust.
It wasn’t just about yesterday’s spar.
This was something bigger.
Way bigger.
Kiera swallowed hard, forcing herself to move toward the blackboard.
Every step felt heavier, like she was dragging chains behind her.
And she could feel it—The stares, the judgment, the glee.
Pinned to the board was a single sheet of paper.
Her heart sank as she read.
It detailed everything she had done to Rin—
how she had mocked him, humiliated him, spread rumors behind his back.
Every dirty trick she thought she had gotten away with.
It was written clearly, almost clinically—but there were some parts that were exaggerated, twisted just enough to make her look even worse than she already did.
But what chilled her wasn’t the exaggeration.
It was how much of it was true.
Because deep down...
she knew she had done those things.
She knew exactly who could have posted it too.
Leo wouldn’t stoop to this.
And Rin... he didn’t seem like the type either.
He had too much pride to pull something this underhanded.
Which left only one suspect.
That bitch.
The sharp-eyed girl who had been clinging to Leo yesterday.
The one who acted all righteous and proper, like she was better than everyone else.
A snake, just like Kiera herself—only smarter.
Kiera gritted her teeth, her fists clenching at her sides.
She wasn’t about to cry.
Not here.
Not in front of all these people.
But deep inside, a bitter, ugly feeling began to fester.
It was the same feeling that she was feeling yesterday when Leo humiliated her.
Still this time she would not let her emotions get her best of her.
Kiera stood frozen for a moment in front of the blackboard.
Her chest tightened as the whispers grew louder behind her.
She could hear them.
She could feel their smug grins, their amusement.
She turned around slowly, forcing a mocking smile onto her face.
"Seriously?" she scoffed, tossing her hair back like it didn’t bother her.
"You guys believe this crap?"
Some of them flinched slightly at her raised voice, but none of them defended her.
Not a single one.
The smile wavered for a split second before she plastered it back on even harder.
"This is obviously fake. I mean, come on. Who even believes anything posted anonymously?"
She laughed, a hollow sound that echoed awkwardly in the classroom.
Silence.
Their stares were cold.
Some even looked bored.
It wasn’t working.
The confidence, the bravado that used to make everyone listen to her—It didn’t land anymore.
She was just... pathetic now.
Kiera’s hands trembled slightly as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, trying to act normal.
She bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to taste blood.
The heavy silence in the classroom pressed down on her, suffocating.
Just then, the classroom door creaked open.
Everyone’s heads turned briefly—and in walked a boy with messy, long hair tied loosely at the back and a pair of thick glasses perched awkwardly on his nose.
He looked a bit disheveled, out of place even, but he didn’t seem to care about the way the others stared at him.
Unlike how they looked at her—with open disdain—he was met with a kind of indifferent curiosity.
A few people even nodded at him in acknowledgment.
He crossed the room casually and dropped into his usual seat without a word.
And then, his gaze flickered toward her.
Their eyes met.
Instinct kicked in before Kiera could even think.
"Wh-what are you looking at, loser?" she snapped, harsher than she intended.
The words echoed awkwardly in the quiet room.
For a second, the boy simply blinked at her from behind his glasses.
And then, with the faintest hint of a smirk, he replied,
"You’re really consistent, you know that?"
For the first time all morning, someone spoke to her like she was still a normal person.
Not like she was trash.
Not like she was invisible.
Just... like Kiera.
She didn’t know whether to feel relieved or even more miserable.
The casual way he said it—without anger, without mockery—made her chest tighten strangely.
She opened her mouth to snap back, but no words came out.
The boy didn’t seem to expect an answer anyway. He simply leaned back in his chair, pulling out a worn notebook and flipping it open lazily, as if their exchange hadn’t happened at all.
Kiera bit down harder on her lip.
"...You’re not going to mock me too?" she mumbled under her breath, almost too quiet for anyone to hear.
But somehow, he did.
He glanced up, his eyes hidden behind the glare of his glasses.
"No point kicking someone when they’re already on the ground," he said simply. "Besides, you kind of do enough of that to yourself."
It wasn’t said with pity.
Just... as a fact.
Like he wasn’t interested in dragging her lower, but he also wasn’t going to pretend she hadn’t helped dig her own grave.
Kiera clenched her fists under the desk.
Her pride bristled at the honesty, but a part of her—the part too exhausted to keep lying to herself—knew he was right.
"...Tch." She clicked her tongue and looked away, feeling exposed.
The boy didn’t push her further. He just went back to scribbling something in his notebook, the faint scratching of his pen filling the silence between them.
Kiera stared out the window, trying to focus on anything but the heavy feeling in her chest.
For the first time in a long time, she didn’t know how to act.
She didn’t know how to fix this.
And worst of all—
She didn’t know if she even could.