47. Brielle

Water drips down my cheeks, the coolness a stark contrast to the heat flushing my skin. I gaze at my reflection in the foggy mirror, my eyes searching for answers in the green depths that seem as turbulent as the ocean during a storm. My hand rests on my still-flat stomach, a silent promise of what's to come. The weight of my secret presses down on me.

Do I tell them? Can I?

I take a deep breath and straighten up, wiping away the last of the water with the back of my hand. It's now or never.

I leave the sanctuary of the bathroom, feet padding softly across the plush carpet until I reach Levi's door. It's slightly ajar, and I push it open, finding him sprawled across his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling fan circling above.

"Levi?" I step inside, my heart hammering against my ribs.

He doesn't move, just continues to stare upward. Then, without glancing my way, he says, "What do you want, Brielle?"

"Are you okay?" My voice is tentative. He sounds angry, and I'm not sure how to approach him right now.

"Fantastic," he replies, his tone laced with acid. "Never been better."

The sarcasm stings, and I flinch. He finally turns to look at me, his gaze harsh and unyielding. "Why are you here?"

I hesitate, the words I had planned to say evaporating under the intensity of his glare. I came to check on him, to make sure we're alright, but his anger builds a wall I'm not sure how to climb.

"Levi, I—" My attempt to speak crumbles with his dismissive snort.

"Save it." He sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to face me. His eyes are cold, distant. "We've said enough, don't you think?"

I swallow hard, the knot in my throat growing. This isn't the Levi I know—the one who laughs easily and looks at me like I'm the only person in the room. This Levi is a stranger, one wrapped in barbed wire.

"Levi, please," I whisper, my resolve wavering. But he stands abruptly, moving past me toward the door.

"Let's just drop it, Brielle," he says, brushing by me, his shoulder bumping mine. The contact sends a jolt through me, but he doesn't stop, doesn't turn back.

And there I stand, alone in his room, the echo of our argument and the weight of my secret crushing me from the inside out.

Feet planted, I whirl around to face him, the heat of anger flushing my cheeks. "You don't get to shut me out, Levi."

He stops in his tracks, muscles coiled like a spring. "Why?" His voice cuts through the air, sharp and precise. "Because you say so?"

"Because we're in this together! Or have you forgotten that?"

Levi's laugh is bitter, hollow. He rounds on me, eyes flashing with a storm of emotions. "Together? When it's convenient for you, maybe."

"Levi…"

"Everything is falling apart, Brielle." His words slam into me, heavy and suffocating. "And it's all because I was foolish enough to fall for you."

"Levi, no." My voice cracks, heart thudding against my ribs. "Don't say that."

"Why not? It's true, isn't it?" He paces now, a caged animal. "I've never been more confused in my life."

"Levi, please." I reach out, try to touch his arm. He jerks away as if burned.

"Stop." He backs up, shaking his head. "I can't do this right now."

"Please." My plea is a whisper, drowned out by the pounding in my ears.

"I made a mistake," he says, and the finality in his tone terrifies me. "Falling in love with you…I need to think about what I really want."

"Levi—" But he's already gone, leaving me grappling with the void his words leave behind.

* * *

The last bell rings,a shrill sound that slices through the heavy air of the classroom. I gather my books, arms hugging them tight against my chest, heart still pounding from earlier. The hallways flood with students, a river of noise and motion, but I'm anchored in place.

"Hey, Brielle."

I jerk my head up. Grayson leans against the locker beside mine, his posture casual, but his eyes are anything but. Tension knots in the pit of my stomach.

"Grayson, what's up?" I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Need to talk to you." He glances around, making sure no one's within earshot. "About Sierra."

"Sierra?" My pulse quickens, and I drop my gaze, fiddling with the straps on my backpack. "What about her?"

He steps closer, lowers his voice. "She's the one. She's been blackmailing you."

Shock hits me like a bucket of ice water. Sierra? My friend? My throat tightens. "That's…that can't be right."

"Trust me," he says, and there's an edge of certainty that makes it hard to argue. "I've seen proof."

My mind races, conflicting emotions waging war. Betrayal stings sharp and deep, mingling with disbelief. Sierra wouldn't…would she?

"Thanks for telling me," I murmur, though gratitude feels distant, overshadowed by a growing sense of dread.

"Are you going to confront her?" His question is gentle, probing.

I nod, decision made in the span of a heartbeat. "Yes. At her locker."

"Want me there?" There's an offer of support in his tone, a silent promise of backup.

"No." I straighten my shoulders, steel in my spine. "I need to do this alone."

"Okay." He gives me a firm nod, then steps back, melting into the crowd.

The halls clear slowly. I wait, a solitary figure leaning against the cold metal of my locker, watching as Sierra slips her books into her bag, oblivious. My hands clench, nails digging into my palms.

I stride toward Sierra, heart hammering against my chest. Each step feels heavy, like I'm wading through molasses, but there's a fire in my veins that won't be quenched until I get answers.

"Sierra," I hiss, reaching out and grabbing her shoulder, forcing her to face me. My fingers dig into the fabric of her shirt, betraying the turmoil inside me. "We need to talk. Now."

She jerks at my touch, surprise flitting across her features before a mask of scorn settles in. "What's this about?" Her voice drips with disdain, as if she can't be bothered with such trivialities.

"Your little game with that message." I glare into her eyes, searching for a flicker of guilt, but she's a closed book. "You think you can threaten me and not have to answer for it?"

Sierra scoffs, a sharp, bitter sound that grates on my nerves. She shrugs off my hand, standing tall. "Oh, please," she says, rolling her eyes. "Like you're some innocent victim here."

"Excuse me?" I can feel my control slipping, the edges of my composure fraying.

"I've seen how you are with them," she snaps back, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the men in my life. "Conrad…Grayson…in the hot tub, all cozy. What am I supposed to think?"

Her accusation hangs between us, heavy and suffocating. I take a step back, breath catching. So that's what this is about. She saw us together and jumped to conclusions.

"Is that what this is? Jealousy?" I spit the word out like venom, disgust mixing with a deep sense of betrayal.

Sierra just smirks, a cruel twist to her lips that doesn't reach her eyes. "Figure it out, Brielle. It's not rocket science."

I shake my head, anger boiling over. She dares to judge me, to threaten me, based on her own twisted assumptions. Her nerve burns hot in my chest, fueling my next move.

My heart hammers in my chest, echoing in the silence of the locker-lined corridor. Sierra's eyes are cold, calculating, holding mine with a challenge that stings of betrayal.

"Fine," I snap, unable to contain the truth any longer. "I'm with all three of them. Conrad, Grayson, Levi. What's it to you?"

Sierra's face hardens, and her lips twist. "Everything," she breathes out, her voice low and spiked with venom. "You've got them wrapped around your finger, don't you? But why you?"

Confusion mingles with the heat of my anger. "What are you talking about?"

"Levi." She spits his name like it's poison on her tongue, her jealousy tangible in the air between us. "Why does he want you? Why not me?"

Her words hit like a slap. I never noticed Sierra watching Levi with anything more than casual interest. How could I have missed it?

"Levi…" My throat tightens around his name, betraying the soft spot I have for him despite our recent fight. "This isn't about who wants who, Sierra. It's about trust. Friendship."

"Friendship?" Her laugh is short, mocking. "That died the moment you chose them over me."

"Chose?" I shake my head, feeling a sharp pang of regret. "It was never about choosing sides."

"Wasn't it?" Sierra steps closer, her gaze locked onto mine. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you chose pretty damn clearly."

Her words sting, a reminder of the complicated web we've all been tangled in. But through it all, I thought Sierra understood—understood me. Clearly, I was wrong.

"Pathetic," I hiss, the word slicing through the tense air between us. "That's what you are."

Sierra's eyes flash with fury, a snarl curving her lips. In one swift movement, she lunges toward me, her fingers clawing for my face. I sidestep, driven by instinct, and shove back hard against her shoulder.

"Touch me again," I warn, words edged with ice.

She comes at me like a whirlwind of rage, our bodies crashing together in a tangle of limbs. We fall against the lockers with a loud metallic bang. My breath hitches as we grapple, her nails digging into my skin, my own hands pushing at her with equal ferocity.

Pain flares where she strikes, but it's dulled by adrenaline surging through my veins. The hallway echoes with the sounds of our struggle—the thud of our bodies, the raggedness of our breathing, the screech of metal as we slam against locker doors.

"Stop!" I pant, trying to wriggle out from under her weight. But Sierra is relentless, fueled by jealousy and something darker, something desperate.

I manage to push her off, but the effort costs me. My head spins, the world tilting on its axis. The fluorescent lights of the hallway flicker above, blurring into streaks of white. I'm lightheaded, suddenly too weak to stand.

"Brielle!"

The shout pierces the disorienting haze, the last anchor to consciousness before everything slips away. I crumple to the ground, the cold linoleum floor rushing up to meet me.

And then, darkness swallows me whole.