Tuesday morning was no easier than Monday. If anything, the rumors had multiplied, spreading like wildfire through the school. Everywhere Mia went, someone was either staring, whispering, or flat-out pointing in her direction. By the time she made it to her locker, her nerves were frayed.
"Do you ever feel like you're a zoo exhibit?" she muttered as Claire appeared at her side.
"Not personally," Claire said, popping a piece of gum into her mouth. "But if you are, you're the main attraction. Seriously, Mia, people are obsessed."
Mia groaned. "I don't get it. How does one stupid blog post turn into *this*?"
"It's not just the blog post," Claire said, leaning against the lockers. "It's the fact that Dylan Westwood is involved. He's like... Ridgeway royalty. Anything he does—or anyone he's seen with—becomes headline news."
"Well, they can headline someone else," Mia said firmly. "I just want to get through the day without feeling like I'm under a microscope."
Claire shrugged. "Good luck with that. Oh, by the way, have you seen Dylan yet?"
Mia froze. "Why would I have seen him?"
"Because he's been looking for you," Claire said with a knowing smile. "Word is he wants to talk to you again."
"Great," Mia muttered, slamming her locker shut. "Just what I need—more attention."
"Come on," Claire teased. "Admit it. A tiny part of you likes the attention."
"I don't," Mia said firmly. "Not even a little."
But as she made her way to first period, she couldn't help but feel a flutter of anxiety. She hadn't spoken to Dylan since their brief exchange yesterday, and while she appreciated his apology, she wasn't exactly eager for another round of hallway drama.
---
By lunchtime, Mia had successfully avoided Dylan. She'd kept her head down in class, taken the long way to her locker, and even skipped her usual stop at the vending machine. But her luck ran out the moment she stepped into the cafeteria.
"There you are!" Dylan's voice rang out, clear and confident.
Mia froze. Turning slowly, she saw him standing by the entrance, his usual grin in place. He was holding a tray, and behind him, a dozen pairs of eyes were already watching their every move.
"Dylan," she said, forcing a smile. "Hi."
"Mind if I sit with you?" he asked, already moving toward her.
Mia opened her mouth to protest, but Claire beat her to it.
"Of course, he can sit with us!" Claire said, practically shoving Mia toward their table. "We'd love the company."
"Claire!" Mia hissed as they sat down, but her best friend ignored her.
"So," Dylan said, settling into the seat across from Mia. "How's your day going?"
"Fine," Mia said stiffly. "Yours?"
"Pretty good," Dylan said, unbothered by her tone. "Although I heard some wild rumors this morning. Something about us sneaking off to get married in Vegas?"
Mia's cheeks burned. "Please tell me you're joking."
"Unfortunately, no," Dylan said with a laugh. "But don't worry—I told them it wasn't true. I said we eloped to Paris instead."
Claire snorted into her soda, and Mia shot her a glare.
"You're not helping," she told Dylan.
"Sorry," he said, holding up his hands. "I just think it's funny. People will believe anything."
"Yeah, well, it's not funny to me," Mia said, her voice sharper than she'd intended. "I'm not used to being the center of attention. I don't *want* to be the center of attention."
Dylan's smile faltered, and for a moment, he looked genuinely apologetic. "I get it," he said. "And I really am sorry. I didn't mean to make your life harder."
Mia sighed, feeling a twinge of guilt. "I know. It's not your fault. I'm just... not good at this kind of thing."
"At what?" Dylan asked.
"At being... whatever this is," Mia said, gesturing vaguely. "Popular. In the spotlight. Dealing with rumors."
"You don't have to be," Dylan said. "Just be yourself. Let people talk—they'll move on eventually."
Mia wasn't so sure, but she appreciated the sentiment. "Thanks," she said quietly.
---
By the end of the day, Mia was feeling slightly less like a walking tabloid headline. But her reprieve was short-lived. As she walked to her car, she found a small group of students gathered near the parking lot, all of them whispering and pointing in her direction.
"Ignore them," she muttered to herself, quickening her pace.
"Mia!" a voice called out, and she groaned inwardly. Turning, she saw Dylan jogging toward her, his backpack slung over one shoulder.
"Seriously?" she said as he reached her. "Do you have a radar or something?"
"Maybe," Dylan said with a grin. "Or maybe I just wanted to see if you were okay."
"I'm fine," Mia said, unlocking her car. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"I don't know," Dylan said, leaning against the car door. "You seemed a little... overwhelmed earlier."
Mia hesitated. "I'm not used to people caring about what I do. It's weird."
Dylan nodded. "I get that. But for what it's worth, I think you're handling it pretty well."
"Thanks," Mia said, surprised by the compliment.
"Anyway," Dylan said, straightening up. "I should let you go. But if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm around."
Mia watched him walk away, her emotions a tangled mess. She didn't know what to make of Dylan Westwood. He was confident, charming, and way too comfortable being the center of attention. But he was also kind and surprisingly thoughtful—and that made him even harder to ignore.
---
That night, Mia lay in bed, replaying the day's events in her mind. She didn't want to admit it, but Claire might have been right. Dylan *had* been flirting with her—or at least, it felt that way. And despite her best efforts, she couldn't help but feel a tiny spark of... something.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she grabbed it, half-expecting another message from Claire. But it wasn't Claire—it was Dylan.
Dylan: Hey. Just wanted to say thanks for putting up with me today. Hope I didn't make things worse.*
Mia stared at the screen, her heart doing that annoying little flip again. After a moment, she typed a reply.
Mia: You didn't. But don't get used to it.*
She set the phone down, but it buzzed again almost immediately.
Dylan: Fair enough. Good night, Mia.*
Mia smiled despite herself. She told herself it didn't mean anything—that Dylan was just being friendly. But deep down, she knew that wasn't entirely true. And as she drifted off to sleep, she couldn't shake the feeling that her life was about to get even more complicated.