I jolted awake, my chest heaving as sweat slicked my skin. Beads of it slid down my face while my eyes darted around the room, desperately trying to make sense of my surroundings,but nothing looked familiar.
"No… no… no!" I screamed, my voice cracking. "This can't be happening. Let me out of here!"
Pure terror bled into every word as hot tears streamed down my cheeks. My breaths grew shorter, more frantic, each one harder to draw than the last, until the world blurred and darkness swallowed me once again.
TWO MONTHS EARLIER
I stared at my reflection, dissatisfaction settling heavily in my chest. The makeup felt excessive, almost like a mask,but without it, I wouldn't have the courage to step outside.
"Cassie, do I look like I put on too much makeup?" I asked.
She was sprawled across my bed, upside down, completely absorbed in her phone, barely sparing the mirror a glance.
"Yeah, you look beautiful," she said but I knew she hadn't even looked up.
My eyes flicked to her reflection in the mirror. Just like I thought, her attention was glued to her phone, fingers moving fast, probably texting Duke. I was happy for her. I really was. Still, there were moments quiet, shameful ones when I wondered what it felt like to be loved like that. To be wanted. To be looked at and chosen without having to try so hard.
I exhaled slowly and turned back to the mirror, studying my face like it was a problem I hadn't figured out yet. Maybe different eyeliner. Maybe more concealer. Maybe if I tried hard enough, I could fix whatever it was that made me forgettable.
Cassie pushed herself off my bed and leaned against my bedroom door, tapping her foot.
"Damie if you're late again, Mrs. Henson is going to lose it."
I glanced at the clock. Junior year. Sixteen. Already exhausted by mornings that demanded confidence I didn't have. I reached for my foundation, smoothing it over my skin, because somehow I felt braver when my face looked less like me.
High school had never been kind to me. No matter what I did, I always felt invisible. Even having a best friend like Cassie didn't change that. She was everything I wasn't blonde, blue-eyed, tall, confident in a way that drew attention without effort. She wore short skirts and fearless smiles, and people noticed. Always.
You'd think standing beside her would make me more visible. Instead, it only reminded me of how easily I disappeared.
"Hey, Cass."
I turned toward the voice just in time to see Duke and his friends approaching.
"Hey, baby," Cassie said, her face lighting up instantly as she skipped over to him. She kissed him without hesitation, like the hallway belonged to them. His friends hooted and laughed.
"Damn," Benson said, grinning. "Should we give you guys some privacy?"
I let out a small giggle, more reflex than humor.
"Oh...hey, Damie," he added, finally glancing my way. "Didn't see you there."
My smile faltered. Of course he hadn't.
"Hey, Ben," I said quietly.
"I've gotta head to the guidance counselor's office," I muttered to Cassie. "Catch you later.
I turned and walked away, my shoulders curling inward as I moved down the hallway, acutely aware of every step. I couldn't shake the feeling that their eyes were on me not because I mattered, but because I was in the way.
I didn't knock. Mrs. Henson's door was already half open, her voice floating out before I even stepped inside.
"Damie, you're late again."
I slipped into the chair across from her desk, folding my hands in my lap like that might make me look put together. Her office smelled like old paper and peppermint too clean, too controlled.
"I'm sorry," I said. I always said that.
She adjusted her glasses, eyes scanning the thin file with my name on it like she expected something new to appear. "Your grades are fine. Attendance is the issue." A pause. "Is everything okay at home?"
I nodded too quickly. "Yes. I just mornings are hard."
She studied me for a moment, the way adults do when they think they're seeing more than you're saying. Then she sighed. "Try to get to class on time, Damie. Junior year matters."
Everything mattered, apparently.
I left her office with the familiar heaviness settling in my chest, the kind that made the hallway feel longer than it was. Lockers slammed. Laughter echoed. People existed loudly, confidently, like they belonged here.
I kept my head down as I walked, counting my steps, when suddenly
"Careful."
I stopped short.
I would have walked straight into him if he hadn't spoken.
He stood just to the side of the hallway, leaning against the lockers like he had nowhere else to be. Tall. Dark hair falling slightly into his eyes. He wasn't smiling, but he wasn't frowning either.just watching me, like he'd been there the whole time.
"I....sorry," I muttered, stepping back.
"It's fine," he said. His voice was calm. Too calm. "You always walk like that."
I frowned. "Like what?"
"Like you're trying not to be seen."
My stomach tightened. "Do I know you?"
"No." A pause. Then, softer, "But I know you."
That should've scared me more than it did.
I glanced around, suddenly aware of how empty the hallway had become. "I have to get to class."
He nodded, eyes never leaving mine. "You're in room 214. English."
I froze.
"How do you..."
"See you around, Damie."
He stepped away before I could say anything else, disappearing into the crowd just as the bell rang. I stood there longer than I should have, my heart pounding for reasons I didn't understand.
No one had ever noticed me like that before.
And I didn't know whether I wanted to run or turn around and look for him.