Chapter 38 — Smoke, Mirrors, and Mean Girls
Penelope wasn't used to people staring.
Not like this.
She'd walked into school expecting the usual: a few polite nods, maybe a head tilt from her math teacher who still thought she was someone else's kid.
But today?
Today felt like walking into a party where everyone had read a secret she didn't know she told.
The whispers started by her locker.
"She really thought two guys wanted her?"
"Maybe it's a dare. Like, who can break her first."
"Did you see the painting she posted last year? It looked like a vomit rainbow."
Then came the snickers.
She turned—and locked eyes with Stella Hayes, crowned queen of cruelty since sophomore year.
Stella looked her up and down, then said loud enough for the hallway to freeze:
"I'd cry too if the only boys who liked me were fighting over who got to regret me first."
Laughter.
Ugly, sharp-edged laughter.
Penelope stood there, lips pressed together, heart trying to pretend it didn't care.
But it did.
It always did.
She walked away before anyone saw the shimmer in her eyes.
---
By lunch, the story had evolved.
Now apparently she had cheated on both Julian and Scott.
With each other.
At the same time.
On a boat.
Penelope sighed and stabbed her salad with enough force to alarm passing teachers.
"Don't listen to them," Callie said, sliding into the seat beside her with two milk cartons and an energy only people with a full eight hours of sleep could achieve. "They're just jealous because your life's messier and more interesting than their entire Netflix queue."
"I didn't even do anything," Penelope muttered.
"Exactly. And still, they talk. Icon behavior."
Milo dropped into the seat across from them. "Okay, who do I fight and what's the emotional damage level?"
"Stella," Callie and Penelope said in unison.
"Again? That girl needs a hobby."
"She has one," Callie said. "It's psychological warfare."
Milo turned to Penelope. "Want me to leak that Julian used to watch baking shows and cry when they eliminated the cinnamon roll girl?"
Penelope laughed, despite herself. "You made that up."
"I did. But it feels true, doesn't it?"
She nodded.
And for a minute, it felt okay.
Manageable.
Like the storm couldn't touch her if her friends were funny enough.
Then Scott walked past their table.
No smile.
No glance.
Just a cold, purposeful walk straight through the cafeteria like he was a man with a mission.
Penelope's stomach flipped.
And then the doors opened again.
And he walked in.
Tall.
Tan.
Sunglasses indoors (of course).
A grin like he knew exactly how good he looked and how much trouble he'd cause.
Marc.
Penelope didn't know his name yet. But every part of her spine stood up straight.
"Who is that?" Callie asked, biting into a cookie and forgetting to chew.
"Trouble," Milo said. "With a capital 'Oh no.'"
Marc paused at the front of the cafeteria, pulled down his shades slowly, and smirked right at Scott's back.
Scott didn't turn.
But his shoulders went stiff.
Like someone had just opened a door to a past he'd padlocked and buried.
Marc walked past their table, eyes glancing over Penelope a second too long.
Then he said, smooth as a jazz solo,
"Well, well. This school is more fun than I thought."
And just like that, the game changed.