Westbridge was bad, Elena had known that going in. The flaking paint, the lopsided hallways, the cafeteria that smelled a foul mix of bleach and rotting fries. But what Elena hadn't expected. What she hadn't been prepared for. It wasn't the building.
It was the people.
Especially Maeve.
"You're not listening," Maeve hissed, pressing against her at the back of the library lockers, eyes dark and voice low."Liam's not a project. He doesn't need to be saved. Especially not by some spoiled St. Claire's princess."
Elena didn't flinch. "I never said he did."
"Oh, but that's what this is, isn't it?" Maeve leaned in, arms crossed. "Rich girl slumming it with the school's most popular stray? Thinks she's special because he didn't push her away yet?"
Behind them, a few of the other students drifted close by, ostentatiously checking their phones, but very much listening in.
Elena's voice didn't waver. "If you care so much, maybe you should talk to him instead of stalking me.
"Maeve's lip curled. "You think I haven't?"
That stopped Elena.
Maeve noticed, and the smirk in her eyes deepened."You're not the first girl to fall for Liam Reyes. But here's your warning, he breaks everything he touches. Including people."
Elena crossed her arms. "Maybe he just needed someone who wouldn't run away."
Maeve blinked. Just once. But it was enough. Then she straightened, her voice going flat. "Then good luck. Let's see how long you last."
Lunch that day was silent. Elena sat under the old tree in the courtyard, the same one from the day before. She opened a book, but didn't read. Maeve's words echoed in her head on repeat.
He breaks everything he touches.
But Elena knew that wasn't true. He hadn't broken her, not even when life had. In the end, it had been Liam who stayed. Liam who held her through the worst of their future. Before he left too young, too soon.
She turned a page just to distract her hands.
"Is that seat taken?" a voice said.
She looked up.
Liam.
"No," she said, surprised.
He sat down next to her, opened a juice box with the force of a fist, and went quiet.
Elena waited.
After a long time, he muttered, "You shouldn't talk to Maeve."
"I didn't exactly ask for that conversation."
"She's... complicated."
"So are you."
He snorted, just lightly. Just once. "You don't give up, do you?"
"Nope."
They sat, quietly, in a bubble in the middle of the clamor of lunchtime.Then, almost inaudibly, he asked, "Why do you care so much?"
She looked at him. At the tension in his jaw. The way he always looked like he was about to either defend her or disappear. The way his eyes never stayed soft for long.
"I just do."
Liam said nothing.
But he didn't move away either.
That night, as Elena walked home, there was a flicker of warmth uncurling in her chest. Not victory. Not even hope. Just... progress. A breath of closeness. He'd sat with her. He'd asked her why.
It was more than nothing.
She ducked into the corner store, buying a bag of sour candy and a bag of sunflower seeds, things he'd gotten her in the life that she lost with him. She put them in her desk drawer when she got home like they were something holy.
They weren't there yet.
But they were closer than yesterday.
The next morning, Westbridge went sour.
Elena could feel it as soon as she entered the hallway. Whispers became laughs. Glances turned into sneers. Someone had written a heart on the whiteboard with her name and Liam's inside. Her history teacher stumbled over her name during roll call. Someone else whistled as she passed.
Liam didn't look at her.
Liam didn't talk to her.
But Liam didn't stop her, either.
At lunch, she avoided the courtyard and went to the back of the gym instead. The benches were all wonky and the tree was bare, but it was quiet. She pulled out her sketchpad and tried to center herself.
It was only day three.
And it already felt like the school was trying to spit her out.
"Still here?"
Maeve's voice sliced through the air again.
Elena looked up. "Do you always walk the school halls in case any girls talk to Liam?"
Maeve's eyes narrowed. "You didn't get the memo yesterday?"
"You mean the one where you publicly shamed me in front of half the school?"
Maeve stalked closer. "You think you're tough?"
"I think you're afraid."
That landed.
Maeve's mouth snapped into a line. "You don't know anything about him. You don't know what he's been through. What we've been through."
We.
So it was true.
Elena rose slowly. "So you are in love with him."
Maeve rolled her eyes. "Not that it's any of your business. But yeah. Maybe I was. Maybe I still am."
"And you think I'm a threat."
Maeve leaned in, eyes glittering with something fragile. "He'll never choose someone like you. So save yourself the trouble. Go back to your perfect life. Before this place devours you."
Then she turned, and left.
Elena didn't follow her. But her hands were shaking again.
Only this time—from anger.
That afternoon, Liam found her by the bike racks.
"You're really everywhere," he muttered.
"I was waiting."
He raised his eyebrow. "Why?"
She looked at him. "Were you friends with Maeve?"
His expression closed.
"She said you've been through a lot. That she's been through it with you."
Liam's jaw clenched. "She's just someone from the neighborhood."
"Did she care for you?"
He looked away.
"If you care about her," Elena said quietly, "I'll back off. I'm not here to make your life harder. But if you really want me gone… say it. I want to hear it from you."
He stared at her.
Long enough that her heart started to hurt.
Then he sighed and said, "Just don't make your life harder than it needs to be."
Elena smiled slightly. "Too late."
He didn't smile back.
But when she turned to walk away, she caught him watching her.
That night, Elena opened her sketchpad again.
And this time, she didn't draw Liam.
She drew Maeve.
Not to mock her.
But to understand her.
Maeve wasn't just a jealous girl. She was a part of Liam's past. Maybe even someone who'd bled for him.
But Elena had bled for him too.
In a lifetime he didn't remember.
And she wasn't leaving.
Not again.