Roxy Song's wistfulness ignited Vivian's curiosity. The bell's echo still trembled in the air as she pounced: "Spill. Who was he?"
"He wasn't anyone," Roxy muttered, stuffing trig notes into her bag. "Just... Parker."
"Parker Vance?" Bryce leaned against the doorframe, smirking. "That burnout? He got expelled from Ridgewood Prep for—"
"Shut it, Sterl!" Roxy snapped, face flushed.
Vivian recognized the telltale signs—white knuckles on backpack straps, quickened breath. She steered Roxy toward the stairwell as Bryce raised mocking hands in surrender.
Under the stairwell's dusty fluorescents, Roxy relented: "Sixth grade. First code red. I thought I was dying." Her laugh sounded brittle. "Parker tossed me his varsity jacket. Said: Get home, Song. Crying's useless."
Vivian visualized it: young Roxy drowning in oversized sleeves, Parker's faded #8 jersey swallowing her frame. A hero moment preserved in amber.
"So you stalked him?" Vivian teased.
Roxy's smile turned soft. "Stayed late doing homework while he shot hoops alone."
Vivian thought of Bryce finding excuses to linger by her locker each morning. "Why'd it end?"
"Graduation." Roxy shrugged. "Some stories don't get endings."
Vivian: "Bryce gave me his hoodie freshman year. Remember? That monsoon Monday?"
Roxy: (Rolling eyes) "And you mopped chem lab with it after Dylan spilled acid."
Vivian: "Priorities! His hoodie vs. Mr. Mac's wrath?"
Roxy: (Shaking head) "You're hopeless."
At Dylan's approach, Roxy stiffened. "Later, Vixen."
Dylan cornered Yueling Shan at her desk. "C'mon! Szechuan Palace's kung pao could revive the dead!"
Yueling shrank behind her calculus text. "I've meal vouchers for the dining hall—"
"Vouchers?" Dylan scoffed. "We're talking chili-oil heaven! My treat!"
Bryce intervened, tugging Vivian's sleeve. "Stop torturing the prodigy, Rhodes. Starve if she prefers."
Yueling's eyes darted between them. Bryce's dismissiveness seemed kinder than Dylan's enthusiasm.
"Fine," she whispered. "Once."
Autumn sunlight gilded Eldenwood's quadrangle as they descended granite steps. Vivian's gaze swept toward the Senior Pavilion—and locked onto Adrian Stone emerging with his inner circle: Simon Kent, debate captain with wire-rim glasses, and Finn Shaw, crew-cut hockey star.
Before logic intervened, Vivian's fingers flew to her lips. A sharp whistle split the air.
Finn grinned, elbowing Adrian. "Wildcat's waving, Stone."
Adrian's gaze slid past Vivian like winter fog. Undeterred, she bounded toward them. Her rolled plaid skirt swung defiantly above regulation knee-length—a sartorial mutiny MacAllister pretended not to notice.
"Grabbing lunch?" Vivian tilted her head, dimple flashing.
Adrian's eyes skimmed her bare knees before flicking away. "Move."
Vivian planted herself in his path. "Asked a question, Stone."
Simon Kent adjusted his glasses. "He's got Model UN prep, Vaughn. Priorities."
Bryce materialized, fingers closing around Vivian's wrist. "Yueling's waiting, V." His grip tightened—a warning.
Vivian wrenched free but relented, shooting Adrian a look that promised this isn't over. As Bryce steered her toward the gates, she called back: "Remember what I said! I keep promises!"
Finn watched them go, chuckling. "Regina George complex meets Everest."
Simon nodded. "Sterling's been her footstool since middle school. Now she wants to climb a mountain?"
Adrian remained silent, striding toward the parking lot. Yet Simon noted the fractional pause when Vivian's laugh echoed behind them—a crack in glacial composure.
Bryce: (Through gritted teeth) "You enjoy public humiliation?"
Vivian: "He looked at my knees!"
Zane: "Correction: he avoided your knees. Big difference."
Dylan: "Dude's colder than my ex's heart. Give up already!"
Yueling trailed behind, wide-eyed at their bickering. Bryce thrust a menu at her. "Order anything. Rhodes pays for his stalker phase."
Yueling: (Timid) "Mapo tofu? Medium spice?"
Dylan: "Medium? LIVE A LITTLE!" (To waiter) "Make it volcanic! Extra chili crunch!"
Bryce: (Watching Vivian sulk) "Forget Stone. Debate fundraiser's Friday. He'll be trapped for three hours."
Vivian: (Perking up) "Details. Now."
Bryce: (Stabbing his lemonade) "If I tell you, you're sitting with me."
Vivian's grin returned—sharp and gleaming. "Deal."
Bryce's smile didn't reach his eyes as Yueling coughed violently on Sichuan peppercorns.