Chapter 2: Broken Aid, Broken Trust

1.

The day the practice test results came out, my class rank jumped from fifth to third.

I could hardly believe it when I saw the list taped to the bulletin board, right next to that faded anti-bullying poster. The girls next to me exchanged glances, whispering in awe. My hands shook as I clutched the results—one step closer to my dreams.

But Aubrey fell from twentieth to below thirtieth.

Her name, once safely in the top ranks, was now buried low on the page. The news spread fast—like wildfire through dry leaves. I felt the eyes on me, a mix of envy and suspicion. The air in the classroom was thick, crackling with tension.

Someone whispered:

"Why did Aubrey’s grades tank so much? And Lillian moved up two spots again."

Their voices were hushed but sharp, the kind of school gossip that could cut you to pieces. My cheeks flamed as the attention shifted my way. I kept my eyes down, doodling on my notebook, pretending not to care.

Aubrey’s eyes immediately filled with tears as she glanced at me.

Her mascara smudged, her lips pressed together to keep from trembling. We’d never been close, but I’d never wanted to hurt her. Still, in that moment, she looked at me like I was her biggest rival.

"Lillian, are you happy now? You study so hard every day—just to make everyone think Caleb had bad taste for choosing me, isn’t that right?"

Her voice was tight, almost shrill, and everyone turned to look. Even the teacher at the podium paused, startled. My heart thumped so loudly I could barely hear anything else.

After blurting that out, she ran out of the classroom. Even when the bell rang, she didn’t come back.

A hush fell over the room. The teacher cleared her throat awkwardly, trying to act like nothing had happened. But everyone’s eyes flickered to me, waiting to see what I’d do next.

The confused teacher asked me, as class president, to go look for Aubrey.

I didn’t argue—I knew it was the right thing. I grabbed my jacket, ignoring the stares, and stepped out into the echoing hallway. My footsteps sounded lonely on the linoleum as I headed toward the basketball courts, where kids usually blew off steam.

Half an hour later,

I found Aubrey sitting on the flowerbed beside the basketball court. Caleb was sitting across from her, bent over, speaking gently to her.

I paused behind a tree, unseen. The afternoon sun painted golden stripes through the maple leaves, and the whole scene felt weirdly cinematic—like something out of a Netflix coming-of-age movie.

I couldn’t hear what Caleb said, but Aubrey broke into a smile through her tears.

Watching her cheeks flush pink as she laughed, I felt something twist inside me—relief, jealousy, and exhaustion all tangled up.

Sunlight filtered through the maple trees, falling on the two of them like a scene from a teen movie.

The bark scratched my palms as I pressed against it, holding my breath so they wouldn’t notice me. The sharp smell of grass mixed with the warm air, and for a moment, I just watched, caught between wanting to disappear and needing to be seen.

When Caleb saw me approaching, he narrowed his eyes. As if venting for Aubrey, he tossed the basketball in his hand at me.

It was so sudden I didn’t have time to duck. The ball spun through the air, hitting me square on the side of my head.

Unexpectedly, it hit my hearing aid.

A metallic crack echoed in my good ear. The device jerked, and then the world went muffled and lopsided, like someone had stuffed cotton in my ear. My heart hammered as I realized I couldn’t hear my own breath. Panic seized me as the familiar comfort of sound vanished in an instant. It was like half the world had shut off.

Caleb obviously hadn’t meant for that to happen—a flash of surprise crossed his face before quickly fading.

He froze, guilt and worry battling on his features. The bravado faded, and for a second, he just looked like the lost kid I’d known forever. Then he masked it, stepping forward as if nothing had happened.

He walked toward me.

"Lillian, you should transfer schools. Aubrey has a big temper, and because of you, she keeps fighting with me."

His voice was softer now, almost pleading. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. I gripped my backpack strap so tightly my knuckles turned white.

Just a month ago, he had asked me:

"Lilly, after the SATs, will you be my girlfriend?"

His question had come out of nowhere. We’d been studying late at the library, his hand brushing mine over an open calculus textbook. My heart had hammered, but I’d been too stunned to say anything.

……

With the test coming up, I’d instinctively wanted to turn him down.

The pressure was already suffocating. Dating Caleb would mean even more drama, more eyes on me. I’d hesitated, wanting to protect both of us from the fallout.

But Caleb said, "Lillian, don’t make this hard for me. As long as you’re here, Aubrey’s upset every day. You don’t want to make things tough for my uncle either, right?"

He said it in a low, almost threatening tone—using my dad’s job as leverage. For a moment, I just stared at him, stunned. My heart felt like it had dropped into my stomach.

My dad’s worked for the Prestons since before I was born. Around here, that means you don’t rock the boat—especially not over high school drama.

For Aubrey, he threatened me with my dad’s job.

That day, under the open sky, with the basketball court lines blurring before my eyes, I realized just how much was at stake. I couldn’t let my family suffer because of my teenage heartbreak.

I knew my dad had worked at the company from age twenty-two to forty-five. I couldn’t let him lose his job in middle age because of me.

My dad’s hands were callused, his back bent from years of hard work. Every story he told me over dinner was about sticking it out, about not quitting. If he got laid off now, what would we do?

"Okay."

It came out barely more than a whisper, but it was enough. Caleb looked relieved, even grateful, which only made it hurt more.

Caleb seemed relieved:

He let out a slow breath, raking his fingers through his hair like he always did when he was nervous. "Once she cools off, I’ll let you come back."

Aubrey seemed to hear this, strutted over, and arrogantly grabbed Caleb’s hand:

Her nails were painted cherry red, and she smirked at me, chin tilted high. "Caleb, I think Maple Heights High sounds pretty good."

Maple Heights High was the lowest-ranked in town, and Caleb knew that.

Everyone did. The stories about fights and failing grades were legendary. It was where parents threatened to send their kids when they wanted to scare them straight.

He just smiled lazily:

Caleb shrugged, all fake indifference. "Alright, whatever you want."

I clenched the broken pieces of my hearing aid in my palm. The sharp edges dug into my skin.

Each jagged edge pressed a reminder into my flesh: things break, and sometimes, they don’t get fixed. I bit down hard on my lip, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill.

It hurt, but it kept me from crying.

I focused on the physical pain—on the sting and the metallic smell of the battery—as a way to drown out the ache in my chest.

After a long time, I threw the broken hearing aid into the trash can, then turned and left.

The metal lid clanged shut behind me, echoing down the deserted hallway. I didn’t look back.