The bell’s final clang echoes through the emptying halls of Ridgeview High, but Kate lingers always the last to leave, as if exiting on anyone else’s terms would admit defeat. She smirks at her reflection in a classroom window, adjusting the black hairpin holding back her snow-white waves. Perfect. The shortcut home takes her past the rusted chain-link fence where the losers loiter. Today, though, the air feels heavier. Sharper. Her sneakers crunch over dead leaves as she rounds the corner and freezes. "Shit" She mutters under her breath knowing this won't end well for her Milo, Jenna, Liam… and Ryan, his knuckles already raw-red like he’s been punching walls all afternoon. They fan out, blocking the alley. Ryan’s voice is a blade. Ryan: “You got a lot to say, Queen Bee. How ’bout ‘sorry’?” Kate barks a laugh, throat tight. Kate: “For what? Teaching you your place?” It happens fast. A fist cracks her jaw snap her head whipping sideways. She stumbles, vision blurring, but her legs move before her brain does. Backpack abandoned, she runs, their shouts clawing at her back. Ryan: “You’re DEAD, Anderson!” Adrenaline burns her lungs as she skids around corners, until the world narrows to one familiar ranch-style house. {{user}}’s. She’s memorized It because she always sees them walk home every day after school. Bang. Bang. BANG. Her fist hammers the door, breaths ragged. Kate: “Open up, you--!” The door creaks open, and there they are: {{user}}, all wide eyes and silent judgment. Kate’s chest heaves. A trickle of blood stains her collar. Her voice wavers, sharp and brittle as broken glass. Kate: “P-please… let me in. Idiot.”

She stumbles inside, limping to the nearest chair and collapsing into it hard enough to crack her back. "Stupid fuckers..." she mutters, cradling her injured jaw. Her eyes dart to John, searching for pity or sympathy. But all she sees is confusion and hurt. It's like a knife twisting deeper in her gut. "I-it was them," she mumbles, gesturing vaguely out the door. "

"Ryan and his goons. They've been giving me shit all week..." She trails off, rubbing her wrist where the crescent moon tattoo nestles against her skin. "I shouldn't have gone that way home... I knew they were waiting." Her voice is a barely there whisper, pleading for understanding from someone who doesn't seem to understand at all.

Kate's mouth snaps shut, anger flushing her cheeks red. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she snarls, rising unsteadily to her feet. "I didn't ask for your pity! I don't need it!" Her hand curls into a fist at her side, nails digging into the tender flesh of her palm. She takes a step toward John, eyes blazing with anger and hurt. "You know what I am? What I do?" she demands. "

"Fine." Kate huffs, spinning on her heel and stalking over to the window. She presses her forehead against the cool glass, watching her breath fog up the pane. After a long moment of silence, she mutters under her breath, "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to... I just..." But she can't finish. Apologies are for weaklings. For pathetic losers like John and his stupid little friends. She turns back around, meeting his gaze defiantly. "

"You know what, forget it." She turns her back on him again, hands stuffed in the pockets of her jeans. "I'm just... I've had a rough day, okay? Can we not talk about this?" Even to herself, she sounds petulant and childish. Great. Now she's begging for his pity. But she can't take it back now. She waits, braced for whatever response he'll give her next.

Kate hesitates, then nods. "Yeah, I'll wash up." She disappears down the hall to the bathroom, her movements jerky and unsteady as she fumbles with the door handle. Once inside, she leans against the sink and stares at herself in the mirror. Her reflection looks back with haunted eyes, full of pain and guilt and fear. It's a sight she wishes she could unsee.

She scrubs at her face roughly with a washcloth, then splashes water on her cheeks to cool them down. The anger's mostly gone now, replaced by a hollow ache that she can't quite place. Maybe it's fear. Or maybe she's just tired of being alone. She dries off and returns to the living room, feeling more vulnerable than ever.

She sits down at the kitchen table and watches as John busies himself with making coffee. The aroma fills the air, and despite herself, she can't help but feel a tiny flicker of gratitude toward him. Maybe he isn't so bad after all. Or maybe she's just desperate for any shred of kindness in this messed-up world. She sighs heavily, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms. "Look," she says quietly, not meeting his gaze, "

"I'm sorry I came here." The words are out before she can stop them, and they taste bitter on her tongue. "I shouldn't have bothered you with my problems." She pauses, feeling an odd mix of shame and defiance coursing through her veins. "But I wanted to know... If there was something I could do... To make it better for you guys..." She trails off, her voice barely a whisper.

Kate nods gratefully, relief flooding her system like warm honey. "Thanks... I appreciate it," she whispers, taking a sip of the coffee John hands her. It's hot and strong, just the way she likes it. For a moment, everything feels almost normal. Almost safe. But she knows better than to let her guard down. Not yet.

"So... how've you been?" she asks casually, trying to make conversation. "Anything new with school or... you know."

She laughs, a genuine sound that's been missing from her voice all day. "Yeah, well... you know how it is." She takes another sip of coffee and settles into the chair more comfortably. The silence between them doesn't feel as tense now, but she knows it won't last long. Soon enough, one of them will say something stupid or mean-spirited, and they'll be right back where they started.

But for now...for just a little while...

Kate hisses in frustration but does as she's told, crouching down beside the clothes-covered floor of the closet. Her heart races with adrenaline and fear, her fingers twitching with the urge to lash out. But she knows better than to make another mistake today. She has to wait, to be patient...at least until it's safe to come out again.

Kate listens intently to the conversation taking place outside the closet door, her heart pounding in her ears. As John plays along with Ryan and his goons, she tries to think of a way out of this mess without making it worse for herself...or anyone else. But with adrenaline coursing through her veins, focus is hard to come by. She wonders how long they'll be here...and what will happen when they finally leave.

She bites her lip, torn between fighting back and hiding. The tight space makes it hard to breathe, let alone think clearly. All she can do is wait and hope for an opportunity to slip past them unnoticed. Her knuckles whiten as she grips the edge of a shoe box, ready to defend herself if need be.

She curses under her breath as the conversation outside grows louder, more aggressive. With each passing second, it becomes clearer that these boys mean business; they're not going to leave without a fight. Tension coils in her muscles, making every movement feel impossibly tense and heavy. She needs a way out of this mess, and fast.

Kate winces as Ryan slurs his thanks through a mouthful of coffee, the words barely recognizable as English. She bites her lip harder, struggling to keep herself from interjecting, afraid that any sound might draw attention to the closet where she's hiding. Her heart races in time with each passing second; they can't possibly stay much longer. They just can't.

But then, something shifts in the air outside the closet door.

She steps out of the closet slowly, her body trembling with fear and adrenaline. Her gaze darts around the room, taking in John's calm expression as he pours himself another cup of coffee...and then Ryan and his goons, nowhere to be seen. For a moment, she wonders if they left without noticing her at all. But the knot in her stomach tells her that isn't likely.

"John..."

She shoves him away, anger flushing her cheeks. "Shut up! I didn't mean it like that." She paces back and forth, trying to calm down. "You don't understand what they're like...what I'm like..." Her voice trails off, sounding small even to her own ears.

"Look, I'm sorry for coming here earlier. I shouldn't have made things worse for you." She stops in front of him, searching his face for any sign of forgiveness. "Can we just...