Let's be Together

"That is incorrect. Are you not studying, Grace?"

It's the third time today I'm called out, and not for anything remotely good. I shift on my feet, glancing up at Mr. Harrison, whose look of disappointment is practically etched into his face.
He stares at me like I've committed some unspeakable crime—like maybe I've stolen his lunch and didn't leave a single crumb in return.

A few people around me snicker, and I grit my teeth, trying to ignore them. Being the center of attention has never been my thing, and when I am, it's definitely not for anything noteworthy.
I mutter a quick, half-hearted apology and slide back into my seat, pretending to focus on my home science book, but the words swim before my eyes, making my head pound.

This isn't new; it's been this way all day. First, Miss Rathi, our chemistry teacher, ripped into me for messing up a basic reaction. Then, in English Lit, I zoned out so thoroughly that Miss Harriet had to call my name twice before I even realized she was talking to me. Every class has been a slow-motion disaster, in short.

And honestly, it feels like my head has been stuffed with cotton all morning.

The bell rings, cutting through the tension, and everyone bolts from their desks, chatting loudly, barely giving Mr. Harrison a second glance. I quickly stuff my books in my bag, making a mental note to actually read that home science chapter later.

On my way down the hall, I bump into Jugyoung, who's hanging out with Charlotte, of all people.

Jugyoung's eyes light up when she spots me, waving enthusiastically for me to join them. Charlotte gives me a small, polite smile, and I offer one back.

"Oh, Gracie, you don't know what you missed! It was insane," she says, her eyes gleaming. Charlotte laughs beside her, nodding in agreement.

Jugyoung keeps chattering about how epic everything was, how much fun she had, blah, blah—bits of her words slipping past me like white noise as I focus on twisting open my locker. I toss my books into my locker, barely listening, until Jugyoung drifts off to chat with Charlotte's group of friends.

I slip away, weaving through the crowded hallways, scanning for Millie without even realizing it. Since our talk two days ago, she's been giving me space, just like I asked. And honestly? It was a relief. I need time, I told her, trying to sound more confident than I felt. She agreed, no questions, no arguments. Just this understanding look in her eyes that made me feel lighter and worse at the same time.

I'd gone my whole life assuming I was into guys. I mean, I had crushes—like any other girl—and I thought I knew myself. But Millie's confession...it's like a crack in the wall that's getting wider, making me question everything I thought I knew.

Without noticing, my feet have led me in front of the gymnasium. The double doors are open, and the thud of basketballs and sneakers squeaking against the polished wood floor bounces out into the hallway.

Should I go in, or should I keep walking?

The old me, the me before everything went sideways, wouldn't have hesitated. I'd have marched in without a second thought, flashed her a grin, maybe hollered a loud "Hey!"

But now? I freeze, one foot poised to step forward, the other itching to turn away. My stomach twists with that uncomfortable reminder that things have changed. I know we're not avoiding each other on purpose, but seeing her face brings it all rushing back—the kiss, the confession, the way everything feels like it's balancing on a razor-thin line.

And just like that, I turn on my heel, practically bolting down the hall. My face heats up, cheeks flushing so hard I can feel it prickling under my skin. God, I'm pathetic.

I duck into the nearest bathroom and, without thinking, twist the faucet on, splashing water onto my face. The cold shock cuts through the fog in my head, and I look up, meeting my reflection.

"Get it together, Grace," I mutter, gripping the edge of the sink. This is getting out of hand. One kiss, and I'm practically unraveling at the seams.

I need to get a grip and to stop acting like this. I breathe deeply, letting the cold water anchor me for a second before I straighten up.
The truth is, I need to figure this shit out, and I need to figure it out fast.

____
When I said I needed to "figure this shit out," I didn't mean accepting an invite to a lacrosse game with James.
Seriously, what the hell was I thinking? My subconscious has been interrogating me ever since I sat down. It happened so fast—one minute, I was walking to the cafeteria, the next, James had cornered me like a puppy desperate for company.
"Hey, Grace," he'd said with that charming, boyish grin, and before I knew it, he was leaning close, looking around like he was checking for paparazzi.

"Where's that bodyguard friend of yours?" he'd asked, half-joking. Millie. I shrugged and told him she was at practice, my forced smile barely holding up.

That's when he hit me with it: "Do you like me?"

Cue mental crash. I blinked, then coughed, scrambling for words. "Um... yeah?" I'd said, half-hearted, and before I could fully cringe at the answer I just gave, he clapped and whipped a ticket out of his back pocket. A lacrosse game ticket.

So here I am now, perched awkwardly beside him in the freezing bleachers of Halloway Stadium, watching players I don't recognize throw a ball around a field. The crowd is going wild, totally absorbed, but all I feel is uncomfortable and out of place. I should be happy—I mean, I've had a crush on James, right?

So why doesn't this feel exciting? Why does this feel... like a mistake? I shake the thought off, trying to focus. "What's happening in the game?" I ask, pretending I'm actually interested.
James, still staring at the field, explains something about the teams, but it's all gibberish to me. I'm just trying to get through this, hoping the time will speed up.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the game ends, and the White Tigers beat the Blue Sharks.

 James was rooting for the Blue Sharks, so he's sulking, but honestly, I couldn't care less.
We're on our way out, wading through the sea of fans, when my stomach plummets. There, across the exit, talking with someone, is Millie.

She's laughing with a girl I don't recognize, and I'm pretty sure she hasn't seen me yet. I nudge James, whispering, "Let's take the other way out," but he's not listening. Instead, he looks at me like I'm being dramatic and asks if something's wrong. And that's when Millie's eyes lock onto mine.

Great. Just... perfect. She glances between me and James, taking it all in, but her face remains calm—too calm. No eye-roll, no glare, just a blank expression. I wait for her to toss out the word asshole when she looks at James—but she doesn't. She's just standing there as if his presence doesn't bother her in the slightest.

Meanwhile, the girl next to her, who I don't recognize, lights up and gives us a bubbly "hello" before turning to Millie with a curious glance.

"Do you know them?" she asks.

Okay, who is she?

Millie introduces me as her "best friend, Grace," and when she gets to James, her tone goes flat. "And that's... just some guy."

James, not missing a beat, jumps in, flashing his signature grin and introducing himself to the girl with an extra dose of charm. I half-expect her to roll her eyes, but she actually looks kind of amused.

"So... are you headed home?" Millie asks me, her gaze resting on me briefly before drifting away.
I nod, trying to sound casual, and ask, "What about you?"

Quinn, the girl beside her, chimes in before Millie can respond. "Oh, we were actually here for the game too, but got stuck at the theatre club and ended up being late."
I didn't ask you, Miss.

I clear my throat, trying to sound casual, and ask Millie if she's heading home. She flicks her gaze to mine for a second, but her eyes slide away almost instantly. "No," she says. "I'm actually going to a party with Quinn later."

Something in my chest twists, an ugly heat spreading through me.

Quinn loops her arm through Millie's, throwing us both a cheery "Bye!" before they turn and head in the opposite direction. I watch them go, my stomach churning as they disappear down the corner, laughing about something I can't hear.

My gaze lingers long after they're out of sight, and it's only when I feel a sharp sting in my palm that I realize my fists are clenched, nails digging into the skin. James nudges me, saying something I don't catch, but I just nod absently, forcing a smile, even as that strange, tight feeling settles deeper in my chest.