Maya's POV
The card burned in my hands as I marched toward the ice rink.
My heart pounded so loud I could barely hear the sounds of skates cutting across the ice. Through the glass, I saw Jake practicing with his hockey team, moving fast and graceful like always.
I'd spent all night thinking about the fire, about Mr. Henderson being arrested, about how life was too short to hide my feelings anymore. If a chemistry teacher could go crazy and burn down a Christmas party, then nothing was certain. Nothing was safe.
So I had to do this now. Before I lost my nerve again.
"Maya, wait!" Sophie's voice called from behind me.
But I couldn't wait. Not anymore.
I pushed through the rink doors, the cold air hitting my face like a slap. The hockey team was taking a break, gathered near the benches and laughing about something.
Jake stood in the center, his helmet off, his face flushed from practice. He looked happy. Confident. Perfect.
My feet carried me forward before my brain could stop them.
"Jake?" My voice came out smaller than I wanted.
He turned, surprise crossing his face. "Yeah?"
His teammates went quiet, all of them staring at me. I felt my cheeks burn hot, but I forced myself to keep going.
"I... I made this for you." I held out the card with shaking hands. "I know it got a little damaged, but I wanted you to have it."
Jake took the card slowly, like it might explode. He opened it, and I watched his eyes scan the words I'd written: You make every game worth watching. You make me believe in magic. I think you're amazing, and I've felt this way for three years.
The silence stretched on forever.
Then Jake's mouth twitched.
And he started laughing.
Not a small chuckle. Not a polite laugh. A loud, mean laugh that echoed through the rink and stabbed into my chest like broken glass.
"Are you serious right now?" Jake said, holding up the card for his teammates to see. "This is like something from a bad movie."
His friends crowded around, reading my words, and their laughter joined his.
"Three years?" one of them howled. "Dude, she's been stalking you for three years!"
"Look at this drawing," another said, pointing at my sketch of Jake skating. "It's actually kind of creepy."
My throat closed up. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening.
"Maya, right?" Jake said, and the way he said my name—like he wasn't even sure—made everything worse. "Look, I appreciate the... enthusiasm. But you're just a fan. You don't know anything about real hockey, about what it takes to actually be good at this."
"I come to every game," I whispered. "I know your stats, your best plays—"
"That's not the same as understanding." Jake crumpled my card in his fist. "You sit in the stands and dream about stuff that isn't real. You don't know me. You don't know anything."
Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of them.
"I just thought..." My voice cracked. "I thought maybe you'd give me a chance."
"A chance?" Jake laughed again, and this time it was even crueler. "Why would I date someone like you when I have Brittany? She's beautiful, popular, and she actually gets my world. You're just... you're just some quiet girl who lives in fantasy land."
His words hit me like punches. Each one left a bruise I knew would never fully heal.
"The drawing is actually decent though," one of his teammates said, examining the crumpled card. "In a sad, desperate kind of way."
They all laughed again.
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. My vision blurred with tears I couldn't hold back anymore.
"I'm sorry," I choked out. "I'm sorry I bothered you."
I turned and ran, their laughter chasing me out of the rink. Behind me, I heard Jake say something else, something that made his friends laugh even harder, but I couldn't make out the words over the rushing in my ears.
I burst through the doors and kept running. Past Sophie, who tried to grab my arm. Past students who stared as I sobbed. I ran until I reached the parking lot, until my lungs burned and my legs felt like jelly.
Then I collapsed against someone's car and let myself break apart.
All those years. All those dreams. All that hoping and wishing and believing that maybe, just maybe, Jake would see me the way I saw him.
And he'd crushed it all in less than five minutes.
"Maya?"
I looked up through my tears.
Ethan stood there, concern written all over his face. He held his art supplies, like he'd been heading to class.
"I heard what happened," he said softly. "Half the school heard. Jake was being a jerk on purpose—he left the rink doors open so people would hear him humiliate you."
Fresh pain stabbed through my chest. "He wanted people to hear?"
"His friends were recording it." Ethan's jaw tightened. "They're probably posting it online right now."
The world tilted sideways. My humiliation wasn't just private—it was going to be everywhere. Everyone would see me get rejected, hear Jake call me a stalker, watch me cry and beg for a chance.
"I want to disappear," I whispered.
"Don't." Ethan sat down beside me. "Don't let him make you disappear."
"Why not? He's right. I'm just some stupid girl who—"
"Stop." Ethan's voice was firm. "Jake Morrison is a bully who gets off on making people feel small. That says everything about him and nothing about you."
I wanted to believe him. But Jake's words kept echoing in my head: *You're just some quiet girl who lives in fantasy land.*
My phone buzzed. Then again. And again.
With trembling hands, I pulled it out and opened social media.
The video was already there. Already going viral. Hundreds of views, dozens of comments.
"This is so sad"
"She's delusional lol"
"Jake handled that well tbh"
"Imagine being this desperate"
I dropped my phone like it had burned me.
"I can't do this," I said. "I can't go back to school. I can't face everyone. I can't—"
A black car pulled into the parking lot, moving too fast. It screeched to a stop right in front of us, and the passenger window rolled down.
Inside sat a woman I'd never seen before. She wore dark sunglasses even though it was cloudy, and her red lipstick was perfect.
"Maya Chen?" she asked.
"Who's asking?" Ethan said, standing protectively.
The woman smiled, but it wasn't friendly. "Someone who can make all your problems disappear. Someone who can make Jake Morrison regret everything he just did." She leaned forward. "Get in the car, Maya. I promise you won't regret it."
"Don't," Ethan warned. "We don't know who she is."
But I was already standing up. Already moving toward the car.
Because right now, disappearing sounded like the best option in the world.