Chapter 1: The Scandal Breaks

When Coach found out what happened to me, his voice thundered through the Silver Hollow Academy PA system:

“Attention staff, we have a security situation in the main quad. All students, please remain in your classrooms until further notice.”

I shrank into the corner of the dorm basement, desperately clutching the torn hem of my skirt to cover my trembling legs.

A cold draft snaked along the cinderblock walls, the faint hum of the vending machine barely muffling the shouts above. My heart hammered as if it might break free from my chest. My palms were slick with sweat. Every time the door creaked, I flinched, half-expecting Coach’s shadow to fill the doorway. I tugged my hoodie tighter, wishing I could disappear into the shadowed corner, just another forgotten sophomore in a battered college sweatshirt.

Coach’s gaze landed on me. Before he could get suspicious, I immediately dropped to my knees:

“Coach, please, don’t kick me out. I’ll take whatever punishment you want—detention, suspension—just please, let me stay.”

“It was my fault she got into your office. I should’ve stopped her.”

My voice shook with desperation, my words tumbling over each other as I tried to shield myself with guilt. The fluorescent light overhead flickered, casting a sickly pallor over the linoleum floor, and I could smell the sharp tang of industrial cleaner lingering in the air.

That wretched girl from the rival school wanted the quarterback’s attention. After getting caught, she slipped out the back like she owned the place, not even breaking a sweat.

She’d come in like a tornado, all perfume and attitude, her Maple Heights letterman jacket practically daring anyone to stop her. Even now, I could remember the mocking arch of her eyebrow as she disappeared down the back hallway.

Because of her, I got dragged into the off-limits equipment room by a crazed Coach and forced to relive that humiliating moment, each memory scraping raw against my nerves.

The memory prickled under my skin. The scratchy rug burns, the echo of slamming lockers, the shame tangled with confusion and the scent of old Gatorade. I hugged my arms tighter, wishing I could scrub it all away with steel wool and tears.

Now my innocence is gone, and there are still marks on my body that haven’t faded…

My knees throbbed from carpet burns. Every step was a reminder, each bruise a secret I had to hide beneath long sleeves and fake smiles. The angry fingerprint-shaped bruises on my arms stayed hidden beneath my hoodie. Every shower brought the sting of regret, the ache of secrets that wouldn't wash off.

If I played the victim, maybe I’d buy myself time. Maybe, just maybe, someone would see past the mess and find the truth beneath all the rumors.