Chapter 9: The Last Day

For the next two days, Ethan seemed to return to how he was before Rachel appeared.

It was like someone flipped a switch—suddenly, he was everywhere again. He waited by my locker, sent me texts in the middle of class, walked me home from school. Part of me wanted to believe he meant it; the other part was too tired to care.

He went to and from school with me, and during breaks, he would mostly come to find me.

His presence was constant, a shadow that lingered at my side. The routine felt familiar, but also foreign—like a favorite song played in a different key.

He became close to me again.

For a moment, it almost felt like old times—before everything fell apart.

As for Rachel, although she had stolen the fundraiser money to help pay for her grandfather's surgery, the class still kept their distance from her.

Word traveled fast in our school. Even though Rachel’s reason was tragic, some things just weren’t forgiven overnight. She became a ghost in the hallway, her laughter quieter, her friends fewer.

Before, because she was close to Ethan, at least people would pretend to be friendly.

No one wanted to be on the wrong side of the Millers, so Rachel always had a seat at every table. Without Ethan, though, the invitations dried up.

Now, seeing even Ethan avoid her, Rachel became even more isolated.

She sat alone at lunch, her tray untouched. Her phone was her only shield, thumbs scrolling through TikTok while the rest of the cafeteria pretended she wasn’t there.

The day before my transfer, during a break, my deskmate nudged my arm.

Sierra, with her purple nails and endless gossip, leaned in close. Her voice dropped to a whisper, eyes wide with the thrill of scandal.

"Hey, Maddie. These days, after class, keep your phone and wallet safe. Let me tell you, a few days ago I was in the office registering classmates' info and saw that Rachel's birthday is tomorrow."

She twirled her pen between her fingers, voice low enough that only I could hear.

I was puzzled. "So?"

I frowned, not sure where this was going. My patience was running thin.

She pursed her lips, a bit speechless. "She stole once, she might steal again. Maybe she'll steal some money for a birthday treat."

Sierra shrugged, as if it was the most logical conclusion in the world. At our school, rumors spread faster than wildfire—one slip-up, and you’re branded for life.

A shadow fell over us.

The fluorescent lights flickered, and a chill ran down my spine. I glanced up to see Ethan standing just behind us, arms crossed, expression thunderous.

Ethan had apparently been listening for a while, his expression icy.

He leaned in, voice as cold as the February wind outside. I’d never heard him speak like that before.

"Enough?"

His tone made it clear—he wasn’t asking. Sierra shrank back, her bravado gone.

He had never spoken to a girl in such a cold tone before.

Usually, Ethan was all charm, especially with girls. Today, his words were daggers.

"Didn't Rachel already apologize?" There was a hint of sarcasm in his eyes. "How much does she have to pay before you'll let her go?"

His voice echoed through the hallway, drawing curious glances from nearby lockers. For a second, everyone was silent.

Ethan was never this harsh before. It seems Rachel really changed him a lot.

He stood taller, jaw set. I realized then that Ethan was capable of cruelty, just like anyone else.

My deskmate was a bit indignant.

Sierra scoffed, rolling her eyes. She wasn’t used to being called out, especially by Ethan.

"I'm just being careful, that's all. And what does it have to do with you, Ethan? You always speak up for her—do you like her?"

Her voice was louder now, daring him to answer in front of everyone.

Ethan suddenly looked at me.

His eyes locked onto mine, searching for something I couldn’t give.

I looked away, feeling detached.

I picked at the corner of my notebook, pretending not to care. The truth was, I was already gone.

He asked lightly,

"Can't I stand up for a friend?"

His voice was softer now, but the tension lingered.

Then he left, his expression unreadable.

He strode down the hall, leaving a trail of confusion in his wake. Sierra glared at his back, but said nothing more.

Ethan is still the same. The more he cares, the more indifferent he acts.

I watched him go, wondering if he’d ever let himself be vulnerable again.