Well, that was an unexpected bonus.

The portly security guard and his equally portly nephew, Arthur, followed me as I led them on a zigzag path behind the school buildings toward the woods.

We fanned out and crept into the dense trees with Arthur moving surprisingly lightly like a wild cat.

"He must've done this before." I thought.

Without my interference, things between Tinsley and Asher had clearly escalated.

Soon, he appeared in front of us with his pants off and impatiently rubbed his hands over Tinsley's gorgeous lace lingerie, while she was facing us. Her eyes went wide, and her entire body stiffened.

This was fun.

As the security guard roared and covered my eyes, a wicked smile spread across my face. The star-crossed lovers were about to have their day under interrogation.

Tinsley was best at crying. Right on cue, tears streamed down her beautiful eyes like a summer downpour.

As she cried, so did I.

She pointed at me and yelled, "Gia, explain! Why are you doing this to harm me?"

"Oh, Tinsley," I said. "Why would I ever harm you? I'm your best friend!

"You always told me Asher's just a rich idiot and that you didn't like him at all. You've always said that you hated him for bringing up the fact that your mom's a bar hostess…"

"...Stop talking!" She tried to stop me.

Asher's and Arthur's expressions grew darker with every word we said.

Finally, Asher snapped, "I didn't harass Tinsley, and she came with me of her own free will! This is just a school crush at most, so why am I the only one taking the fall!"

I wiped my tears and bit my lip to keep myself from laughing out loud.

"Oh, look at your male lead, Tinsley. Look at all that manly responsibility," I thought ironically.

When Arthur looked over at me, I asked, "If you didn't force her, why would she go to the woods with you when she hates you so much?"

Asher sneered. "Mind your own business, Gia. When have I ever forced her?"

I pointed at Tinsley and replied, "You bought her expensive lingerie and forced her to make out with you. Doesn't that count?"

Tinsley didn't have a dad. Her mom was a bar hostess, one before she was born, and she still was now. They lived in a cycle of mutual shame.

Every bra she'd ever worn through puberty had been a gift from me. But one day, she flicked the clasp on my bra and laughed at how old-fashioned mine was.

I never asked how Asher knew her size.

He arrogantly lifted his chin and snapped back, "Who said I bought those? Do you have proof?

"She's a slut, so maybe she begged some other guy to buy them.

"She's just as cheap as her bar hostess mom and comes crawling to me with a single snap of my fingers. Why would I even need to force her?"

Arthur had heard enough. He slapped Asher's face and told him to shut up, while Tinsley lowered her head and stared at her shoes, twisting her fingers in silence.

There it was again, the same old act.

Whenever things got messy, she went mute and acted as if I were her designated spokesperson. She probably had no idea how much trouble I could stir with my mouth.

"In that case, why is your backpack full of the same tampons Tinsley just used?"

Asher went pale. Something seemed to cross his mind, but he quickly spread his hands and scoffed. "What backpack? What are you talking about?"

"Excuse me."

A teenager suddenly appeared at the door, leaning against the frame and bent slightly over as he gasped for air. His pale face was flushed from intense running.

"Mr. Biggs, I found two backpacks near the woods," Henry said.

The two backpacks thudded onto Arthur's desk.

He lunged and unzipped the designer one, but Asher, who decided to give it all up, grabbed the shoulder strap.

They began yanking back and forth in a frantic, ugly tug-of-war.

One by one, the scented tampons spilled out and fluttered through the office air like a stranger, floral rain.

I looked up and smiled, only to meet Henry's gaze behind his half-rim glasses. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Yes, Mr. Biggs! I admit it! Asher used those things to give me pressure!

"He forced me, harassed, and made me do those things with him!"

Tinsley suddenly burst into tears, while Asher gawked at her in pure disbelief. There was fury blazing in his eyes.

"Tinsley, you absolute bitch!"

I let out a soft scoff and muttered to myself, "Well, check out your female lead, Asher. That's some incredible acting."

Leaning against the doorframe, Henry whispered, "What are you laughing at, Gia?"

"There's a tampon stuck on Arthur's head," I whispered back.

It was a perfect fit for where his receding hairline used to be.

"Pfft—" That did it. Even Henry had to stifle a laugh.

In the end, Asher pulled some family strings and escaped with nothing more than a formal warning. But the fallout between him and Tinsley came quickly.

When Tinsley started skipping classes out of spite, she ended up meeting the second most important man in her life, Kieran Gallagher.

He was the thug who, in my past life, drove a knife into my stomach and stabbed me hard.

With Tinsley busy juggling her new social life, I finally had some peace to bury my head in my books and focus on studying.

I counted the days. There was one more year until the SAT.

In my past life, I'd straight away enrolled in a vocational school and never seen what a real SAT-level paper looked like. This time, there would be no shortcuts.

When Mom saw how hard I was studying, she started saving the freshest catch for me and switched between pan-searing, grilling, and poaching methods daily.

She was worried I'd get tired of fish and had no idea that this was the taste I'd missed for over a decade.

When my homeroom teacher, Truman Hayes, called to compliment my progress in the midterms, Mom actually broke down in tears.

She'd tried to stop me from hanging out with Tinsley, but I hadn't listened. As a widow who'd lost her husband young and her job in middle age, she lost the strength to fight fate and decided to recklessly spoil me instead.

When she heard from Truman that Henry, my seatmate, was a top student who'd been helping me with school, she made a pot of fish chowder and told me to bring it to him.

At the intersection where he waited for me every morning, I tossed the thermal flask and my backpack over.

"Wow, Gia. Your true colors are really starting to show."

"There's fish chowder in the flask. My mom made it specially for you," I said, pointing at the container.

Ever since the day he appeared out of thin air with Tinsley's backpack, we'd formed a silent, tactical alliance.

"For what?" He lifted the flask and raised an eyebrow.

"It isn't because I noticed you only eat plain toast for lunch. My family can't afford your tutoring fees, so this is a bribe."

As poor kids clinging to shreds of pride, we exchanged a smile.

As we walked out of the alley into the morning mist of our small coastal town, a figure stood in the fog waiting for me.

With a cigarette between her fingers, Tinsley exhaled a plume of smoke. When she saw Henry beside me, she froze briefly before saying, "Gia, I need to talk to you."