Senin pagi di SMA Westbridge selalu ramai, kacau, dan sangat terang. Para siswa memadati lorong, membanting loker, membandingkan pakaian, bergosip, dan tertawa. Dunia bergerak dengan volume penuh—terlalu cepat, terlalu tajam—untuk seseorang seperti Evelyn Willow Skye.
Ia berjalan dengan headphone-nya tetapi tanpa musik, berpura-pura mendengarkan agar tidak ada yang berbicara dengannya. Trik lama itu berhasil mencegah setidaknya separuh siswa mencoba apa pun. Namun, separuh lainnya tidak butuh kata-kata—mereka hanya perlu menatapnya untuk memutuskan bahwa ia sasaran empuk.
Selama akhir pekan, Evelyn telah memutar ulang kejadian makan siang hari Jumat berkali-kali. Bukan penghinaannya.
Tapi Jace.
Bagaimana dia berdiri di sampingnya.
Bagaimana semua orang mundur.
Cara dia berbicara padanya, seolah dia penting.
Bodoh rasanya merasakan apa pun. Jace Mason tidak "peduli" pada orang lain. Semua orang bilang dia menyendiri, menutup diri, tak terjangkau. Tipe anak laki-laki yang membolos hanya untuk bernapas sejenak dari dunia. Anak laki-laki dengan buku-buku jari memar dan rumor-rumor yang membuntutinya bagai bayangan.
Namun—dia melihatnya.
Evelyn berbelok di sudut menuju lokernya… dan membeku.
Lokernya tertutup.
Catatan tempel.
Ratusan jumlahnya.
Merah muda, neon, berkilauan—semua warna yang bisa dibayangkan.
Dan tiap-tiap benda memiliki sesuatu yang tertulis di atasnya.
Orang aneh.
Gadis bisu.
Mengapa kamu tidak berbicara?
Pemborosan ruang.
Kasus amal Jace.
Tidak ada yang menginginkanmu di sini.
Tenggorokannya tercekat. Lorong di sekelilingnya berdengung tawa. Telepon berdering. Beberapa orang berpura-pura tidak melihat sambil merekam semuanya.
Jemari Evelyn gemetar saat ia meraih satu nada—hanya satu—sebelum lututnya gemetar. Ia merasakan panas yang familiar di balik matanya.
Namun sebelum air matanya sempat jatuh, sebuah tangan muncul.
Besar, kasar, tak salah lagi.
Jace merobek catatan itu dari lokernya, meremasnya dalam tinjunya, dan melemparkannya ke lantai.
Lorong itu menjadi sunyi.
Bukan karena Evelyn.
Karena dia.
"Siapa yang melakukan ini?" Suara Jace rendah, tajam, dan berbahaya.
Tidak ada seorang pun yang menjawab.
Mereka tidak membutuhkannya.
Semua mata tertuju pada Brianna Collins dan regu pemandu sorak, yang berdiri di ujung aula, sambil menyeringai.
Brianna mengibaskan rambutnya. "Apa? Cuma dekorasi. Jangan salahkan aku kalau dia nggak tahan dengan sedikit kejujuran."
Jace melangkah maju. Evelyn secara naluriah menarik lengan bajunya.
"Jangan."
Suaranya kecil namun tegas.
Ia meliriknya, matanya menggelap karena sesuatu yang tak bisa ia sebut namanya. Marah, khawatir... atau sesuatu yang lebih lembut tersembunyi di baliknya.
"Kamu tidak harus melindungi mereka," gumamnya.
Dia menggeleng sekali. "Bukan. Aku melindungimu."
Itu membuatnya tercengang.
Sebentar saja.
Itulah pertama kalinya Evelyn meraihnya—secara fisik, sengaja. Dan pukulan itu lebih keras daripada pukulan apa pun yang pernah diterimanya seumur hidup.
Dia menatap tangan wanita itu di lengan bajunya, lalu kembali menatap wajahnya. "Aku tidak butuh perlindungan."
"Aku tahu," bisiknya. "Tapi... aku tidak ingin kau mendapat masalah karena aku."
Rahangnya terkatup rapat. Seisi lorong menyaksikan setiap detiknya, seolah-olah mereka sedang menyaksikan sesuatu yang terlarang.
Perlahan, Jace melangkah mundur ke sisinya.
Tidak dalam kekalahan.
Tapi karena dia bertanya.
Evelyn berbalik ke arah lokernya, siap mengambil sisa catatannya. Tangannya gemetar hebat hingga ia hampir tak bisa melepaskan satu pun.
Tanpa sepatah kata pun, Jace bergerak ke sampingnya dan mulai menurunkannya juga.
Satu per satu.
Diam.
Tepat.
Tidak terganggu oleh bisikan-bisikan di sekitar mereka.
Kehangatan aneh merayapi dada Evelyn—begitu asing, begitu asing, hingga ia tak tahu harus menyebutnya apa.
Harapan?
Tidak. Dia tidak pantas menerima itu.
Namun dia tahu hal ini:
Tidak ada seorang pun yang pernah berdiri bersamanya seperti ini.
Tidak sekali pun sepanjang hidupnya.
Ketika mereka selesai, Jace membersihkan sisa-sisa kertas dan bergumam, "Mereka tidak akan menyentuh lokermu lagi."
"Bagaimana kamu tahu?" tanyanya lembut.
"Karena aku tidak akan membiarkan mereka."
Evelyn membuka mulutnya, tetapi tak ada yang keluar. Suaranya tak cukup kuat untuk menahan semua yang ingin ia katakan.
Jadi sebagai gantinya, dia mengangguk kecil.
Itu sudah cukup.
Untuk keduanya.
Saat bel berbunyi, Jace berjalan di sampingnya—tidak terlalu dekat, tidak terlalu jauh, jarak yang pas untuk menyampaikan satu hal kepada seluruh lorong:
Dia tidak sendirian lagi.
Dan untuk pertama kalinya selama bertahun-tahun, Evelyn merasakan sesuatu muncul di dadanya—gemetar, berbahaya, indah.
Sesuatu yang tidak dia ketahui cara mengatasinya.
Karena jatuh tidak seharusnya terasa seperti ini.
Tidak secepat ini.
Tidak sehangat ini.
Tidak seseram ini.
𐙚⋆°🦢⋆ᥫ᭡
By lunchtime, the story had already spread across Westbridge High.
The locker incident.
The sticky notes.
Jace stepping in.
Evelyn grabbing his sleeve.
Everyone had an opinion, and none of them were quiet about it.
Evelyn sat alone at her usual corner table, silently stirring her untouched soup. The cafeteria buzzed—loud voices, metal trays slamming, laughter echoing. But underneath all that noise was something darker:
Her name.
Whispered.
Mocked.
Twisted into things she never asked for.
"Did you see the video?"
"She totally did it for attention."
"Jace? Protecting her? As if."
"She's manipulating him."
Evelyn flinched. She didn't need to look to know people were filming her again.
Her phone vibrated.
She pulled it out, thinking it might be from her mom.
It wasn't.
A DM from an account she didn't recognize.
@TruthTeller_WBH:
We see you. Don't pretend you're innocent.
You deserve everything that's coming.
Her heart stopped.
She clicked the profile.
No posts.
No followers.
Anonymous.
Another message came immediately.
You think Jace will save you?
Boy doesn't even know who he's dealing with.
Evelyn's fingers shook. She locked her phone and shoved it into her pocket, her breath coming out in short, shallow gasps.
This wasn't normal bullying.
This was organized.
Planned.
Targeted.
And Brianna Collins loved playing puppeteer.
"Are you eating that?"
Evelyn jolted slightly. Jace had appeared next to her, sliding into the seat across from her like he belonged there. Like it was the easiest thing in the world.
"N-no," Evelyn murmured.
He pushed her tray aside gently. "Then don't force yourself."
His eyes narrowed. "You okay? You look… shaken."
She hesitated. She didn't want to drag him in further. He already had a record. Trouble followed him like a shadow. One wrong move because of her and everything could explode again.
But Jace wasn't the type to let silence fool him.
"What happened?" he pressed, voice low.
Evelyn swallowed, then whispered, "I got… a message."
His jaw tightened instantly. "From who?"
"I—I don't know."
Evelyn unlocked her phone and pushed it toward him. Jace's eyes scanned the screen. The more he read, the darker his expression became.
When he finally looked up, something dangerous flickered behind his gaze.
"This isn't from Brianna," he muttered.
Evelyn blinked. "W-what? Of course it is—"
"No," he cut in. "Brianna's stupid and petty, but she's not subtle. She wants credit when she hurts someone."
That was true. Brianna loved attention. Anonymous accounts weren't her style.
"So… who is it?" Evelyn whispered.
Jace leaned back slowly, tapping a finger against the table. Thinking. Calculating. His mind worked differently from everyone else's—sharper, colder, protective in ways he didn't show openly.
"It's someone who wants to stay hidden," he said. "Someone who knows you. Someone who… hates you more than the others."
Evelyn felt her stomach twist.
More than Brianna?
More than the cheer squad?
"Why would anyone—?"
Jace interrupted again. "Because you exist. And to people like that, that's enough."
His voice wasn't cruel.
Just… honest.
Painfully honest.
Evelyn looked down, her fingers curling into fists. She wished she could disappear. She wished she didn't shake so easily. She wished she wasn't who she was.
Jace studied her for a moment before speaking again, more gently this time.
"Evelyn," he said quietly. "You're not alone in this."
Her breath caught.
Those words—simple, soft—hit harder than anything else.
Not alone.
It had been so long since she'd heard that. Even longer since she believed it.
"I'll find out who's behind this," he promised. "And I'll make sure they stop."
Evelyn's throat tightened. "Jace… please. Don't get hurt because of me."
He shook his head. "I'm not worried about me."
She stared at him.
He meant it.
He actually meant it.
And it terrified her more than any threat.
Because falling for someone like Jace Mason was dangerous—maybe even more dangerous than her bullies.
But sitting across from him now, in the noise and chaos of the cafeteria, Evelyn felt a strange sense of safety. A small, fragile world where the noise couldn't reach her.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Jace didn't smile.
But his eyes softened—just a little.
And that was enough to make her heart stumble.
The lunch bell rang, snapping the moment in half. Students rose, chattering loudly, pushing past each other. Jace stood up first, waiting for her without saying a word.
Evelyn picked up her bag.
Just as she was about to leave, her phone buzzed again.
Another message.
Round two starts now.
She froze, breath hitching.
Jace noticed instantly.
"What's wrong?"
Evelyn turned her screen toward him.
And that was the moment everything changed—
when the bullying stopped being physical,
stopped being public,
and became something darker.
Something unseen.
Something personal.
And neither of them realized it yet—
but this was only the beginning.
𐙚⋆°🦢⋆ᥫ᭡
Evelyn's fingers trembled as she stared at the screen.
A new notification.
A new threat.
@TruthTeller_WBH:
Smile for the camera.
Before she could process the words, another message came in—this time a picture.
Her heart nearly stopped.
It was a photo of her taken ten minutes ago.
Sitting in the cafeteria.
Looking anxious.
Head down.
Taken from behind one of the pillars near the vending machine.
Someone had been watching her.
Not Brianna.
Not her friends.
Someone else entirely.
Her breath hitched painfully. "Jace… this is—"
"I know."
His voice was razor-sharp, dangerous in a way that made several passing students slow down, sensing tension.
Evelyn felt everything blur. The cafeteria noises turned distant, like she was underwater.
Fear crawled up her spine, cold and suffocating.
Jace stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"They're following you. They were close. Too close."
"Why…?" Her voice cracked. "Why me? I never did anything to anyone."
"That's exactly why," he said quietly. "You're easy to target. Quiet. Alone. People like this… they look for someone who won't fight back."
The words stung—but they were true.
Evelyn swallowed hard. "Th-then I'll fight back."
Jace blinked.
A rare flicker of surprise crossed his face.
"You?" he asked softly. Not doubting—but trying to understand.
Evelyn forced herself to breathe. "I'm tired of being scared. I want them to stop. I… I can't keep living like this."
Jace studied her for a long moment, eyes unreadable.
Then, slowly, he nodded.
"Good," he said. "Because I'm not letting you face this alone."
Another vibration.
Another message.
Let's see how brave you really are, Evelyn Skye.
And a second attachment.
This one wasn't a photo.
It was a link.
Evelyn's stomach twisted. "What is that?"
Jace took her phone before she could click it. "Don't. Could be a trap. A virus. A leak page."
"A… what?" she whispered.
Jace exhaled slowly. "Anonymous accounts make fake websites to humiliate people. Posting rumors, fake screenshots, private info…"
Evelyn felt sick.
"They wouldn't—"
Jace cut her off. "They would."
Students passed by in clusters, half whispering, half staring. Some pretending not to look. Some recording outright.
She felt like prey in the middle of a crowd.
And then it happened.
Someone brushed past her deliberately.
A girl from Brianna's cheer squad—Arielle—leaned close and whispered:
"Check the school forum, quiet freak."
Evelyn froze.
Jace's expression darkened instantly.
"Arielle," he called out.
She didn't turn back.
Just smirked and kept walking.
Evelyn fumbled with her phone. She opened the Westbridge High student forum app.
The front page loaded.
And there it was.
A new thread pinned to the top.
"THE QUIET GIRL'S PITY PARTY — EXPOSED"
posted anonymously
with over 300 comments already.
Her throat tightened. Her vision blurred.
The thread contained:
• pictures of her crying in the hallway
• screenshots of rumors
• edited texts making her look desperate for attention
• poll titled: "Is she faking it or just pathetic?"
Evelyn's knees nearly buckled.
Jace grabbed her arm before she fell.
"Evelyn, stop. Don't read it."
But she couldn't.
Her eyes burned as she scrolled.
Every comment cut deeper than the last.
"She'll probably drop out soon."
"Someone tell her to grow a personality."
"No wonder she has no friends."
"Jace just feels bad for her."
That one hurt most.
Her breath shook violently. "Why are they doing this to me…?"
Jace clenched his jaw so tight it looked painful.
His voice was dangerously low.
"I'm taking you out of here."
"W-wait—Jace—"
But he didn't listen.
He took her wrist gently but firmly and guided her toward the back exit of the school—away from the cafeteria, away from the stares, away from the screens flashing her humiliation.
Away from all of it.
Evelyn didn't fight him.
Couldn't.
Outside, the cold air hit her cheeks, grounding her slightly. She leaned against the wall, hiding her face in her hands.
Jace stood in front of her like a shield, scanning their surroundings, tense, protective, silent.
"Evelyn," he said finally, voice steady but soft, "look at me."
She did.
Her eyes were red.
Her hands were shaking.
Her entire world was collapsing.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice to a whisper only she could hear.
"You're not what they say."
Evelyn swallowed. "It feels like I am."
"You're not," he repeated firmly. "And I'm going to prove it."
A single tear slipped down her cheek.
Jace brushed it away with his thumb before she could hide it.
Her breath stopped.
For a moment—brief, fragile—the world was quiet again.
Until her phone buzzed one more time.
A new message.
From the same account.
Round three starts tonight.
Don't disappoint us, Evelyn.
Jace's expression hardened.
And Evelyn's heart dropped—
because she realized something terrifying:
This wasn't going to stop.
It was going to get worse.
𐙚⋆°🦢⋆ᥫ᭡