ZARA'S POV
Tables Turned. That's what I'll call today.
The cafeteria buzzed with the same mundane energy it always had—laughter from the jocks' table, the occasional loud clatter of a tray, and the ever-lingering smell of pizza that somehow made your stomach churn instead of growl. But for me, it felt like everything had shifted. Like I was sitting inside a glass box while the world carried on outside.
Kaylee sat beside me, picking at her fries while shooting me side glances every few seconds. I knew she was worried. Honestly, I couldn't blame her. Even Nick, across from me, had said less than ten words since we sat down. He just sipped his drink and stared daggers across the room at someone I refused to look at.
Someone with brown tousled hair and a smile that once made my world feel weightless.
Liam Hunter.
I pressed the fork into my mashed potatoes like they were responsible for all my pain.
"I think you should eat something," Kaylee said softly, nudging my tray toward me. "Just a few bites?"
"I'm fine," I muttered, even though my stomach twisted at the thought of food.
"Fine looks a little different," Nick muttered, not looking up from his drink.
I was about to shoot back a snarky reply when I felt it—the shift in the air. The kind of change that comes with drama and bad perfume.
Beatrice.
Her laugh came first—high-pitched and venomous—before she and her two ever-loyal minions slinked up to our table like shadows.
"Well, well, if it isn't the prom queen who wasn't," Beatrice cooed, arms crossed, her perfect lip gloss catching the cafeteria lights.
I didn't flinch. I didn't even look at her at first.
"I was starting to wonder when the school ghost would crawl out of her pity corner," she continued, leaning closer, her voice low and taunting. "Tell me, Zara… was it worth it? Giving your first kiss, your heart, your dignity to someone who never wanted it?"
Nick's jaw tensed. His hand clenched the edge of the table.
I opened my mouth to speak, but before a single word could leave my lips, the chair beside me scraped back.
Kaylee stood.
I blinked.
Beatrice smirked. "Oh? The sidekick wants to bark now?"
And then, it happened.
Kaylee's hand flew through the air—faster than I'd ever seen her move—and landed with a sharp, echoing crack across Beatrice's flawless face.
The whole cafeteria went dead silent.
Beatrice stumbled a step back, her hand flying to her cheek, eyes wide with disbelief.
"What the hell—?"
"You're not going to talk to her like that," Kaylee snapped, voice shaking—but not from fear. From fury. Real, unfiltered, long-suppressed fury. "Not after everything you've done. Not anymore."
Beatrice's minions looked stunned—mouths agape, frozen.
I just stared.
My Kaylee—sweet, quiet, always-avoids-conflict Kaylee—had just slapped Beatrice King in front of half the school.
And I'd never felt more grateful in my life.
"I used to be scared of you," Kaylee went on, stepping closer to Beatrice. "But guess what? I'm not anymore. You're just loud. Just mean. And pathetic."
Beatrice, still recovering from the shock, hissed, "You're going to regret that."
"No," Kaylee said, turning and meeting my eyes with a fire I hadn't seen in her since we were kids. "You'll regret underestimating her."
She sat back down beside me, heart racing.
I looked between her and the fuming Beatrice.
The silence didn't last long—gasps, whispers, phones out capturing the moment. Beatrice hissed something under her breath and stormed off, her minions scrambling behind her like confused ducklings.
Nick let out a low whistle. "Damn."
I turned slowly to Kaylee, still stunned. "You… you slapped her."
Kaylee looked at her hand like it wasn't even hers. "I did."
I stared.
Then laughed—really laughed. It was the first time I'd laughed in weeks. And it came with tears. Not of sadness. Of release.
"Guess I'm not the only one changing," I whispered.
Kaylee smiled, her voice quieter now. "I just got tired of watching you bleed alone."
I reached out and grabbed her hand under the table. "Thank you."
And just like that, the ache in my chest loosened—just a little.
I wasn't okay.
Not yet.
But I wasn't alone either.
And that… that mattered more than I could ever say