I step forward, and a twig snaps under my shoe. I suck in a breath and freeze, but neither of them look up. Emmett is too lost in her.

His hand disappears into her bikini bottoms, and I feel something squeeze my chest, an emotion I first mistake for anger.

I’m not angry though. Emmett is so much older than me. Of course he has girlfriends, or at least girls he sometimes kisses. I’ve seen him with them around campus. It’s not all the time. He doesn’t seem to flaunt his relationships like the other guys in his group. Emmett is either more discerning than your average eighteen-year-old boy, or he’s better at keeping his activities concealed behind closed doors.

I truly don’t mind the fact that I’m being confronted by him and another girl. They’re getting more into it now. I should leave. It’s wrong to be here watching them, but my feet feel like lead weights.

I realize this tight feeling weighing me down is sadness at the idea that he would bring her here, to our place.

I let my rose roll off my fingers and drop onto the grass before turning back to walk to my dorm.

I have a harder time than usual sleeping. I try to go under my blankets with a reading light and a book, but Blythe gets angry, so I give up and lie there in bored silence, staring up at the ceiling.

I wonder if I’ll be doing stuff like that when I’m Emmett’s age. It’s hard to even imagine, not just because I don’t know exactly what they were doing, but because I can’t think of one boy who would want to be down there on that dock with me.

The next morning, I wake up and get ready, brushing out my long hair until it shines then pushing it back away from my face with one of my plaid headbands. After dressing in my uniform, I pick navy flats from my closet and accessorize with the dainty gold heart necklace my grandmother gave me for my thirteenth birthday. I even brave a quick trip to the dining hall to eat breakfast before heading to chemistry.

After I eat, I’m walking in the courtyard, trying to get from one building to another with as little interference as possible. I’ve learned that keeping my head down seems to provoke the assholes less. If only I could disappear altogether…

I’m cutting across the center of the path, near the fountains with antiquity-inspired sculptures of water nymphs, when someone steps in front of me, blocking my way. I stop myself just before I collide with Blythe. Behind her, like a pair of cronies, Lavinia and Nellie stand with their arms crossed as if they’re daring me to try to cut past them.

Immediately, I feel the color drain from my face.

Interacting with me in public isn’t done by students who want any sort of social life. Blythe decreed me untouchable, and the kids in my grade are nothing if not loyal minions to their overlord, who’s currently beaming with excitement.