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It happens outside the school gym, after the bell rings for lunch.
Tracey’s alone at the vending machine, punching the code for an orange soda she doesn’t really want. Her thoughts are elsewhere; mostly in her chest, still sore and slow from the weight of Kevin's absence, and partly in her ears, ringing from whatever joke Eddy shouted two hallways over.
She hears the footsteps behind her before she hears the voice.
“So, what’s your secret?”
Tracey turns. It’s Marie Kanker, leaning against the wall, one eyebrow raised. Her hair’s been bleached and re-dyed again, streaks of sharp blue contrasting brightly against her skin.
“What?” Tracey says, confused.
Marie gestures at her vaguely.
“You know, the whole little miss perfect thing. Always got a guy, always got friends, always knowing the right thing to say. What’s it like to live in a coming-of-age movie?”
Tracey blinks. Her soda clunks into the tray below. She doesn’t reach for it.
“Is this supposed to be a compliment, or-”
“No,” Marie snaps, too fast. “It’s not.”
The hallway hums with silence.
“Everyone’s so obsessed with you,” Marie continues, her upper lip curling. “Kevin moped around like a kicked puppy for weeks. Nazz defends you like she’s your PR team. And Double D? Don’t even get me started on him. It’s like no one notices the cracks, just the shine.”
Tracey’s mouth tightens. “You think this is easy for me?”
Marie scoffs. “Isn’t it?”
Tracey takes a breath, then another.
And then she snaps.
“I wake up every day wondering if the people around me like me, or just the version I've made palatable. I carry other people’s expectations like a second skin and the second I slip, even a little, I can feel it. You wanna talk about perfect? I don’t even know who the hell I am most days. I just smile, flirt, laugh at the right things, and hope no one notices that I’m drowning in plain sight.”
Tracey bends down, grabs the soda, and stands up straighter.
“So if you’re mad that people see something in me? Get in line. I don’t even see it myself.”
Marie barks a dry laugh, taking a step forward.
“Wow. Must be real hard, being the sun everyone revolves around.” Her voice is laced with venom; but there’s a crack in it now, something bitter, something raw.
“Try being invisible, Tracey. Try being trash before anyone knows your name. Try having people decide who you are before you even open your mouth. You’re not drowning, you’re just annoyed the water’s cold.”
Tracey’s fingers tighten around the soda can. The metal crinkles slightly.
“You think people don't decide who I am before I speak?” she spits. “You think being everybody’s distraction makes me happy? It’s exhausting. I smile for them so I don’t have to scream for myself.”
Marie crosses her arms, jaw tight.
“Yeah, well, some of us scream and still don’t get heard.”
And there it is.
The quiet truth behind the claws.
They stare at each other, the tension crackling like static between them, two different kinds of broken staring across a hallway-sized canyon.
Tracey says nothing.
She just turns and walks off, her heart pounding, skin buzzing.
She doesn’t let go of the soda.
She holds it like it’s the only thing keeping her from falling apart.