Lincoln high looked like any other suburban American school - red brick walls, buzzing fluorescent lights, lockers that always jammed on Mondays. But inside, it ran on hierarchy as clear and ruthless as any monarchy. And at the top of it all was Molly Hastings.
Molly - platinum blonde waves, electric blue eyes, and a smile sharp enough to cut glass - was a walking cliché: head cheerleader, homecoming queen, and dating the quarterback, Adam Lockwood. She wore her popularity like a crown, effortless and untouchable. Her entourage followed her everywhere - Ben, her sarcastic right-hand man; Samantha, the queen of gossip; and Amy, the quiet girl who mirrored Molly in everything from her outfits to her laugh.
Jessica Winters, on the other hand, lived on the fringes. Black combat boots, chipped nail polish, and a permanent scowl. She didn't care for the rules, didn't care to belong. Her long, dark hair was always in a loose braid, and her stormy grey eyes could level someone in a stare. Jessica hung out with Hannah, a fiercely loyal art geek with a pixie cut and an oversized denim jacket, and Jake, a lanky film nerd with a camera always slung over his shoulder.
That Friday morning, tension cracked through the hallway like static. Molly has just strutted past Jessica's locker, eyes locked with her target.
"Nice boots, Winters," Molly drawled, flipping her hair. "Did your grandma knit them?"
Jessica smirked without looking up from her locker. "Did your brain take a sick day, Hastings?"
Ben laughed. Samantha gasped. Amy just watched, chewing her gum slowly.
"You've got a big mouth for someone with no social life," Molly said, stepping closer. Her tone was syrupy sweet, but her eyes narrowed like daggers.
"And you've got a big ego for someone who peaks at seventeen," Jessica shot back, slamming her locker shut.
Students paused, watching like they were ringside at a boxing match. The tension between the girls had been simmering for years, but lately, it felt like it was boiling over.
"You're pathetic," Molly hissed under her breath as Jessica walked past her.
Jessica turned, walking backward, hands stuffed in her hoodie pockets, "I know you are but what am I?"
The crowd chuckled as Molly clenched her fists. Behind her, Adam leaned against a locker, unfazed, texting on his phone.
"Damn," Jake said, catching up with Jessica. "You're going to make her explode one day."
"She's already cracking," Jessica muttered. "Just waiting for the fun part."