Chapter 11: The Test in the Hallway

Eleven

After school, Lauren blocked me at the back door of the classroom.

She leaned against the lockers, arms folded, eyes hard. The hallway smelled faintly of bleach; lockers slammed in the distance and the PA crackled with an announcement.

"Let’s talk."

Her tone was all business, no trace of her usual smirk. I rolled my eyes, already tired of whatever drama she was about to bring.

This time, she wasn’t smiling. Her expression was very serious.

She looked at me like she was about to deliver a verdict. I waited, hands tight around my backpack strap, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing me squirm.

I was really annoyed. Why did they all come to find me? Was I part of their drama? They could date as they liked, I could study as I liked—we had nothing to do with each other, so why did one block me today and another want to talk tomorrow?

I was so done with their games. I just wanted to go home, crawl into bed, and watch reruns of old sitcoms with my cat.

...

The silence stretched. Lauren shifted, clearly uncomfortable; she lifted her chin like a dare, then chewed her lip.

Lauren looked at me for a long moment, then said,

She took a deep breath, as if preparing for a speech she didn’t really want to give.

"I really don’t get what makes you worth his constant concern."

Her words were bitter, edged with jealousy. I almost felt sorry for her—almost.

I almost laughed.

It was ridiculous, the way she acted like I’d stolen something from her. I shook my head, trying to keep my cool.

"No need to beat around the bush, just say what you want."

I met her eyes, daring her to be honest for once.

Her face darkened for a second, glaring at me.

Her fists clenched, nails digging into her palms. She looked like she wanted to scream.

"...You’re really proud, aren’t you? Even though Derek is with me now, he still likes you. Seeing you with another guy, he’s about to fall apart. He hasn’t paid any attention to me lately."

Her voice trembled, her confidence slipping. I saw a flash of vulnerability, but it vanished as quickly as it came.

"I really don’t get it. What’s so great about your princess syndrome? He just got emotional and accidentally slapped you, and you cut him off. You just felt embarrassed, right? Just because your pride was hurt, you can throw away a childhood friend you’ve known all your life. You’re just selfish and petty."

She spat the words out, as if saying them would make her feel better. I let her finish, not interrupting; my face stayed impassive.

Lauren said a lot in one breath, as if she was truly upset for me.

She stared at me, eyes wild. I could tell she wanted a reaction, any reaction.

I listened quietly and said,

My voice was calm, almost gentle. "No need to test me. I won’t make up with him."

She froze.

Her mouth opened, then closed. She looked genuinely shocked.

I smiled.

I felt lighter than I had in weeks. For once, I was in control of the narrative.

"Being sent by your boyfriend to test the childhood friend’s feelings is awkward, right? But don’t worry, I said we’re strangers, and we’ll be strangers for life. I, Natalie Carter, never pick up what I’ve thrown away."

I watched her process my words, her face twisting with frustration.

"Go tell Derek, I still say: get lost, the farther the better."

I turned to leave, the finality in my words echoing in the empty hallway.

Lauren’s expression was complicated—part guilt, part humiliation at being exposed, and part confusion.

She hesitated, then slumped against the lockers, defeated. I almost felt sorry for her—but not quite.

As I walked away, her voice came from behind, unwilling to give up.

She sounded desperate, voice cracking. "Natalie, just because of a slap? Just because he hit you that once?"

"Yes, just because of a slap."

I didn’t even look back. My answer was the same as always—firm, unwavering, true.

I answered again, still the same answer.

The words felt like freedom. I walked out into the parking lot, the sun setting behind me, and didn’t look back.