By the time Monday rolled around, the Dylan saga still clung to Mia like a persistent cloud. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself that her life would go back to normal, it was clear that "normal" had packed its bags and left for good.
The morning was off to a bad start even before Mia set foot in the school building. On the bus ride, she overheard whispers from two juniors sitting behind her.
"Do you think she's his girlfriend?" one of them asked.
"No way. Dylan Westwood doesn't date anyone for long," the other replied with a snort. "She's probably just his flavor of the week."
Mia gritted her teeth and gripped her backpack strap tighter. The more she tried to lay low, the more the rumors seemed to snowball.
As she walked through the front doors of the school, Claire was waiting at her locker, practically bouncing with excitement.
"Mia!" Claire hissed, tugging her into the shadows of the hallway. "Okay, you're not going to believe this. Someone posted a photo of you and Dylan at the basketball court on Saturday. It's everywhere!"
Mia's stomach sank. "What do you mean, 'everywhere'?"
Claire whipped out her phone, showing Mia the offending image on social media. It was a blurry shot of her and Dylan on the court, likely taken from a distance.
The caption read: "Is this Dylan's new muse? The star player's soft spot for the girl-next-door!"
"Oh, come on!" Mia groaned. "Why would anyone care about this?"
"Because it's Dylan," Claire said matter-of-factly, tucking her phone away. "People are obsessed with him. And now you're part of his story. Whether you like it or not."
Mia sighed, leaning her head against her locker. She didn't have the energy to argue.
By lunch, the whispers had grown louder. Mia barely touched her food, keeping her head down as she sat in her usual corner with Claire.
"Mia, you've got to do something about this," Claire said, her tone shifting to one of concern. "If you don't, people are going to keep running with their own versions of the story."
"What am I supposed to do?" Mia asked, exasperated. "Call a press conference?"
"Okay, maybe not that," Claire said with a shrug. "But you could—"
"Hey, Anderson!"
Mia looked up to see Dylan approaching her table. The cafeteria fell silent as all eyes turned to them.
Great, she thought. Just what I needed.
Dylan didn't seem to notice—or care—about the attention. He slid into the seat across from Mia, his easy grin firmly in place.
"Mind if I sit here?" he asked, though he didn't wait for an answer.
"Yes, actually," Mia muttered under her breath, though it was too late to stop him.
Claire, meanwhile, was staring at Dylan like he'd just descended from Mount Olympus.
Dylan leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed. "So, have you heard the latest rumor about us?"
Mia glared at him. "Which one? There's so many to choose from."
Dylan chuckled. "Apparently, we're secretly dating and planning to elope to Paris next summer."
Mia rolled her eyes. "Oh, wonderful. That's exactly what I need right now."
"Relax," Dylan said, his tone surprisingly soft. "People will get bored eventually. Give it a week, maybe two."
"Easy for you to say," Mia shot back. "You thrive on this kind of attention. I don't."
Dylan tilted his head, studying her for a moment. "You know, you're different from most people I know."
"Is that your way of saying I'm a loser?" Mia quipped, raising an eyebrow.
Dylan laughed. "No, it's my way of saying you don't let this stuff get to your head. Most people would be milking this for all it's worth. But you? You just want it to go away."
"Exactly," Mia said firmly. "So maybe you could help me out by not drawing more attention to me."
Dylan held up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I'll tone it down. For now."
Before Mia could respond, a group of basketball players called Dylan over. He stood, flashing her one last grin.
"See you later, Anderson."
Mia groaned as he walked away.
"Okay, I take back everything I said," Claire said, leaning across the table. "He is totally into you."
"He's not into me," Mia said, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Then why does he keep showing up wherever you are?"
Mia didn't have an answer for that.
The final bell couldn't come soon enough. Mia was exhausted by the time she made it to her locker. As she packed up her books, she found herself wondering if Dylan was right. Would people really get bored and move on?
"Hey."
Mia jumped, nearly dropping her notebook. She turned to see Dylan leaning casually against the locker next to hers.
"What now?" she asked, her voice sharper than she intended.
"Relax," Dylan said, holding up his hands. "I just wanted to check on you. See how you're holding up."
Mia blinked. "You...wanted to check on me?"
"Yeah," he said, his tone surprisingly sincere. "I know this whole thing has been...a lot."
"That's an understatement," Mia muttered.
Dylan chuckled. "Look, if it helps, I can clear things up. Tell people there's nothing going on between us."
Mia hesitated. On the one hand, she desperately wanted the rumors to stop. But on the other hand, the thought of Dylan publicly denying any connection to her stung more than she cared to admit.
"No," she said finally. "Let them think what they want. It'll blow over eventually, right?"
Dylan smiled, and for the first time, it felt like they were on the same page.
"Alright, Anderson," he said, pushing off the locker. "But if you change your mind, let me know."
As he walked away, Mia couldn't help but wonder if she'd just made a huge mistake.
That night, as she lay in bed, Mia's mind raced. She thought about Dylan's offer, the rumors, and the way he seemed to genuinely care—at least, more than she would have expected from someone like him.
Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.
But that didn't mean she was ready to let him—or anyone else—turn her life upside down.
For now, all she could do was take it one day at a time.