I shoved Noah's chest with every bit of strength I had left. The "Noah-Haze" shattered instantly, replaced by a cold numbing fear. I stumbled back, smoothing my hair and clothe. When I looked up, he was gone-the mask was back, and already heading out the door, like nothing happened.

 "Damn, Maddie. Give a guy a second," Noah drawled, his voice back to that effortless, gravelly hum. He stepped out of the bathroom, partially blocking her view of me as he moved. "The girl hit her head. Just didn't want her bleeding on the rugs. Mom would kill me."

"Is she okay?" Maddie asked, her voice of mix of suspicion and fake concern as she tried to peer over his shoulder.

"She's fine. Just dramatic,"Noah's tome was cold as he grabbed Maddie, pulling her close like I'd never happened. "I am done here. Let's go." He didn't look back.

 I stood there, hearing them head upstairs- Maddie's voice, his laugh. I looked at the mirror. Swollen lips, messy hair, bleeding head. God I was a mess. I'd been crushing on him since I was ten, and for a fee minutes, I thought maybe-just maybe-he felt it too. But he tossed me aside like a chore, proving what I already knew. Noah Graves was exactly who I thought he was. A jerk. A bully. And a mistake I was going to have to live with.

I collapsed onto the bathtub edge, face in my hands, waiting for my heart to calm down. Just get through the sleepover. Act like nothing happened. I didn't know when I left the bathtub to the room. I dozed off immediately .

 A sharp, electronic chirp followed by a hum woke me up. The Graves' house monitor. God'll never get used to this. In my 8 years of coming to this house, I still haven't gotten used to that system. It was installed in every room, a way for their parents to run the house like a military base even when they weren't actually here.

Usually, it was their mother's voice-sharp and commanding-telling the boys to get moving for some event. She was never home, always stuck in meetings or flying off somewhere. I sat up, head throbbing. My fingers touched the bandage on my forehead – Noah's handiwork from last night.

The memories hit me like a physical blow. The movie. The coffee table. The way his hands felt on my waist. And the way he looked at me like a physical blow. The movie. The coffee table. The way his hands felt on my waist. And the way he looked at Maddie when he walked out of the bathroom. "She's fine. Just dramatic." The words played on repeat in my head.

I stood up and went to the vanity mirror. Pale lips, nasty yellow-purple bruise. I looked wrecked. I pulled on my hoodie, hiding my face. Find Zion, go home, avoid Noah. I could do this; I'd been avoiding his real self for years; one more morning was nothing.

I pulled my hoodie low, hiding the injury. Heart racing, I headed downstairs, hoping to avoid Noah. I found Zion in the kitchen. He was making breakfast – eggs, toast – but I wasn't hungry.

 "Finally, I thought you were going to sleep all day," Zion said, turning around with a smile. But then his eyes landed on my face. "Woah, Khi. What happened to your face?."

I tried turning away, pulling the hoodie tighter. "I am fine, I just fell," I lied.

Zion sighed, reaching to ruffle my hair but stopped when I flinch. His phone pinged loudly, cutting him off. Then another. And another. Zion lunged for it. His face went totally white for a second, then turning bright red. "Khi! The results! The early decisions are out!" He shouted, spatula flying. "I got in! I am in! Harvard, Khi! I am actually going!!"

He grabbed my shoulders, shaking me like crazy – I thought my head would pop off."Go check yours! We are going to be roommates in Cambridge! This is our dream, remember? Eight years of talking about this and it's finally happening."

I forced a huge, fake ass smile and hugged him back, but inside, I felt like I was being crushed. Since we were ten, Harvard had been our "big plan." We used to stay up late talking about moving to Massachusetts and leaving this town behind. But plans cost money.

Zion had a trust fund and a dad who could buy a library if he wanted to. My mom was currently working two jobs just to keep us in our tiny apartment and keep the fridge halfway full. The best she could ever afford me was the local community college ten minutes down the road. The truth was, I hadn't even applied to Harvard.

 I couldn't bring myself to do it, knowing the rejection letter wouldn't be from the school, but from my bank account.

 "I...I'll check mine when I get home," I said, my voice shaking as I pulled away from his grip. "My phone is dead, and I really need to get back. My mom needs the car for her double shift."

 "Are you kidding? Use my laptop?" Zion was already reaching for his bag, his eyes glowing. "I want to see the "Accepted" screen for both of us."

"No, Zi, I really have to go," I blurted out, backing towards the kitchen door. I had to get out. My chest was tight. Our future was a lie. 2 secrets were choking me. I was scared Zion would see right through me. "No, Zi, I really have to go," I blurted out again, my hand fumbling for the door behind me.

 "Wait, Khi, at least let me-" Zion's words were cut short by the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs.

I froze.

My hearts, which was already racing, decided to do a full sprint. Noah walked into the kitchen. You must be kidding me. Why did he have to come down now? He was shirtless, hair messy – looked too good after wrecking my head. The morning light, highlighted his muscles. I forgot how to breathe. Noah ignored me, heading straight for the coffee machine like he owned the place.

 "What's all the shouting about?" He drawled.

Zion, still buzzing with excitement, didn't notice how stiff I became. He practically lunged at his brother. "The results, Noah! I'm in! I got into Harvard!"

Noah paused, his mug halfway to his lips. He looked at Zion, a small smirk tugging at his mouth. "Damn! Congrats, little brother. I guess one of us actually has brain."

 He looked at me with eyes that could drown me. He took in my hoodie, shaking, bandage, and lingered on my lips. His smirk changed – he remembered the kiss. "And what about you, Khione?" Noah asked, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms over his bare chest. "Did you get your big ticket out of here too? Or are you staying behind?"

 I felt the blood drain from my face. My mouth went dry. Zion was looking at me with a huge grin on his face, waiting for my reply, while Noah was watching me like he knew I was a fraud.

 "I......I haven't...." I stammered, the word's getting stuck. I tried to swallow but my throat felt dry. "I...I mean, the website was....I'll check later." I was stammering like an idiot. I totally lost my words.

 All I could think about was the community flyer hidden in my room and the way Noah was looking at me-like he knew exactly how much of a liar I was.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, a welcome distraction.

"See? Not dead," Zion teased, but his smile faded as he saw my expression.

I stared at the screen. It wasn't my mom. It was a local number I didn't recognize.

 "Hello," I whispered.

 "Is this Khione Kay?" A deep, offical voice asked.

"Yes." The room went silent. Even Noah straightened up, his smirk flickering.

"This is the County Police Station. We need you to come down here immediately."

" i have to go," I choked out, already halfway to the door.

"Khi, wait! I'll come with you," Zion said, dropping the spatula. He looked genuinely worried, his Harvard high completely gone.

"No, It's fine! Stay, eat," I yelled, not looking back. Ran before Zion could move. I practically dove into the car. It looked like it had seen better days. I turned on the car, the engine purring to life as I zoomed off. My mind was spinning. 20 minutes later, I pulled up the station. My hands were shaking so bad I could barely turn the key off.

I walked inside, the smell of stale coffee and floor cleaner hitting me.

 "Khione Kay," I told the front desk. "I was asked to report."

A police officer stepped out, his voice matching the one on the phone. "Ms. Kay. Your brother was arrested for-"

"Cousin," I corrected him quickly, my voice sharp. Keisel. Here we go again. He was older but apparently needed saving than I did. I hated how reckless he was. His name on that report made me mad at mom for being so nice. He was her sister's son.

Her sister treated her like trash, but when she died, my mom took Kiesel anyway. She did it knowing we were barely surviving, working herself to the bone while this idiot- who was supposed to be grateful-just kept dragging us down. Standing there, bruise on my head, lies in my pocket – how much more? Didn't want to know what he did -another bar fight, something stupid. Called me, not mom, so it couldn't be that bad. If it were truly life-ending, they would've tracked her down at the hospital where she was pulling an extra shift.

 This was just another "minor" fire I had to put out so she wouldn't have to. "How much is the bail?" I asked, my voice sounding hollow in the quiet station.

The officer looked down at his clipboard, flipping a page. "Five hundred dollars. Cash. Since he's a repeat offender, the judge wasn't feeling very generous today."

 Five hundred dollars. I almost laughed, but it felt more like a sob. To the Graves, five hundred bucks was a pair of sneakers or a nice dinner out.

 To me, that was the money I'd been secretly saving for my community college textbooks. It was 2 weeks of groceries. It was everything. I leaned against the wall, head throbbing. 300 naira in my account – if I used it, no rent. If I didn't, Kiesel's in a cell, mom's heart breaks.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it put expecting Zion to be blowing me up with "Where are you" texts.

But it wasn't Zion. It was a text from an unsaved number I knew by heart. Noah: How much do you need? My heart stopped. I looked around the station like he was standing right there, watching me drown. He knew. Of course he knew. He'd figured it out. I stared at my screen, thumb hovering. Replying meant owing him – after that bathroom, no way. I wasn't going to reply. I couldn't.

 "I'll figure it out myself," I whispered to the empty, depressing air of the waiting room. I'd sell my old guitar, or maybe pick up extra shifts at the dinner-anything but becoming another thing Noah Graves owned.

 I opened my messages, my thumb trembling as I searched for Xailia's number. She didn't have much, but maybe she could lend me the two hundred I was missing.

 I started typing, my vision blurring with frustration tears. Hey X, I am in a really tight spot and- Before I could hit send, Phone vibrated hard. Green banner popped up. A banking alert. Zelle: You have received $5,000.

My jaw literally dropped. Five thousand? That wasn't just bail money. That was rent, groceries, and a whole year of community college tuition. It was a lifeline and a noose, all wrapped in one.

I started at the money on the screen, my stomach turning over. He hadn't even waited for me to ask. He hadn't even given me the chance to say no.

I looked at the officer, who was watching me with a boredom expression. I had the money. I could get Kiesel out right now and keep my mom's world from crashing down.

But as I looked back at the text from Noah- the one I still hadn't answered-I realized the price of this cash was going to be way higher than five grand.