Eve's POV
I went to the girls' restroom after first period because my chest felt too tight to breathe through.
I slipped into a stall, locked it, and sat down, staring at the scratched door in front of me.
My knee bounced as I tried to slow my thoughts.
For a second, it was quiet.
Then the door swung open.
Laughter spilled in first. Then voices….three of them, maybe four.
I stayed still.
"Oh my God," one of them said, sounding amused. "Did you hear about Owen and that ginger junior?"
Another voice chimed in. "Evelyn? Yeah. Unfortunately."
My stomach dropped hearing my name.
I recognized their voices instantly.
Girls who always lingered too close to Owen in the halls. Always twisting their hairs, and giggling whenever he passed by.
"What about them?" another girl asked, already excited.
My ears rang.
"Jason said Owen was complaining after practice," the first girl continued. "Like….he's been dating her for months and she still acts like she's scared of boys."
"What?" someone scoffed. "Are you serious?"
"Dead serious. He said they haven't even gone past first base."
"What?" someone gasped. "No way. You're kidding."
I sucked in a breath and pressed my hand over my mouth.
Why would he say that?
Why would anyone say that?
They laughed again.
"And honestly," the first girl continued, "what does he even see in her? She's not even that attractive. A junior that acts, and dress like a middle scholar."
They laughed mockingly.
"She's actually kind of pretty," someone said, but it sounded annoyed, like it hurt her to admit it. "I guess. In a baby way."
"Yeah," another agreed. "Like, she's cute if you're into fragile-looking girls."
"Please," someone else said. "She hides behind that innocent thingy. Bet she's lying about being a virgin too."
How could they say all of that.
How did they know?
Did Owen really say all that to the guys?
"That's what I'm saying," another voice chimed in. "Girls like her always do that…..act shy so guys don't expect anything. It's fake."
"And the red hair?" someone snorted. "She acts like it makes her special. It just makes her look like she's trying too hard."
My hands curled into fists in my lap.
My chest tightened painfully.
"Honestly," another voice said, "I think Owen just picked her because she's easy to impress. No pressure, or expectations."
"That makes sense," someone laughed. "Bets she probably worships him."
"And meanwhile," the first girl said, "half the girls in our grade would actually know what to do with him."
They giggled.
"He could literally have anyone. Even college girls. Or girls that are not afraid of a guy's touch."
"And instead," another scoffed, "he's stuck with a junior who doesn't want to grow up."
I closed my eyes as my chest started to ache.
They giggled again.
The laughter echoed against the walls.
That was enough.
I stood up so fast the stall door rattled.
I yanked it open and stepped out.
Every single one of them went quiet.
They were all by the mirrors, applying their lip gloss and mascara. The eyes widened when they saw me.
I walked past them slowly and turned on the sink, washing my hands like I wasn't shaking.
Confidence is a performance.
And I forced every ounce of it.
Only then did I look up at them.
"You know," I said calmly, "it's really interesting how much time you spend talking about me."
One of them rolled her eyes. "Relax. It's not that deep."
"It is," I said. "Because if I didn't matter, you wouldn't care."
Another girl scoffed. "Please. He's just dating you because you're convenient."
I chuckled. "And yet….he's still dating me."
Their faces turned red.
"So maybe," I smirked, "the real question is 'why he didn't choose any of you.'"
One of them snapped, "That's disgusting."
I shrugged. "What's disgusting is standing in a bathroom tearing down a junior because you're mad a boy didn't pick you. That's low."
"And for the record," I added, fixing my lip gloss, "you can't say anything bad about me, but you can't call my ugly."
I shoved past them, pushing the bathroom door open hard enough for it to slam behind me.
My hands were still shaking.
But my head was high.
My heart pounded as I stormed down the hallway.
Second base?
That was what they were measuring me by.
Fine.
I wasn't staying home tonight.
And I wasn't letting a group of bitter seniors decide what I was worth.