The Quarterback's Favorite Girl

Avery's POV

Madison Thorne stepped into my path before I made it three steps inside the door.

"Well, well. The scholarship infestation has arrived."

Four girls spread out behind her. Gold dress, expensive perfume, smile already decided. The ballroom was packed behind them, chandeliers and marble and two hundred seniors in silk, and none of it mattered because Madison had already locked onto me like I was the only person in the room worth destroying tonight.

I kept walking. "Love what you've done with your face. Did the filler settle?"

Shock moved through the group. I felt it without looking.

She stepped into my path again. "Still in the thrift store dress? I saw that exact one on a woman outside the pharmacy last week."

"Then she had excellent taste."

"I heard your mother started cleaning for the Ryders." Her voice dropped, just between us. "Mopping their floors. Scrubbing their toilets. How does it feel, knowing your family's survival depends on wiping up after people who actually matter?"

My mother had taken the job three weeks ago. Come home with red-rimmed eyes and told me it was temporary, just until something better came through. I hadn't told a single person at school. I hadn't thought I needed to.

"At least my mother works for a living." I held her eyes. "What do you do, Madison? Besides spending your father's money and peaking at 18?"

Her smile came back wider than before. That was when I knew I'd made a mistake.

A phone appeared from somewhere in the crowd. Her girls closed into a half circle behind me, cutting off the exit. The people who had been pretending not to watch stopped pretending. The string quartet kept playing. Nobody looked at them.

"She thinks she's too good for us." Madison's voice carried easily now, pitched for the room. "Little Miss Coding Genius. The fat scholarship girl who builds video games in her bedroom because she can't afford to go anywhere real."

Laughter from the nearest cluster. Then wider, spreading back through the crowd like something catching.

"She lives in a shed. Her mother's bedroom is a converted closet. They share a bathroom with their landlord."

None of it was true. It didn't matter. I stood at the center of it with my hands pressed flat against my thighs and my jaw locked and my throat doing something I refused to let it finish.

Not here. Not in front of them.

"Excuse me."

The voice came from behind the circle. Calm. Not loud. The crowd shifted before I even turned.

Jaxon Ryder walked through like the space had cleared just for him. 6 foot 3, dark jacket, pale gray eyes already done with everything. He stopped between me and Madison without looking at either of us for more than a second.

I noticed how good looking he was. I hated that I noticed.

"Thorne. Party's that way."

"Jaxon, I was just—"

"Leaving." He stepped forward. The crowd stepped back. "Go on."

Madison flipped her hair, laughed like nothing had happened, and walked. Her girls followed. The circle broke apart. The quartet filled the silence back in like it had never left.

I stared at the floor and breathed.

"You okay?"

I looked up. He had a slight frown, like I was a problem he hadn't signed up for.

"I didn't need your help."

"Didn't say you did."

"Then why."

"She was getting loud. I share a locker room with half those guys." A shrug. "Wasn't about you."

"Thanks for the rescue, quarterback." I turned. "I'll try to be less inconvenient next time."

I walked off before he could answer. Behind me, a short breath out. Then nothing.

I found the dessert table, ate a cheesecake because I'd earned it, and counted down to 9:45. The cold air hit my face when I stepped outside. I pulled out my phone to call a ride.

The notifications were already flooding in.

Instagram. TikTok. Snapchat. Group chats I'd never been added to, all going off at once. The video was up. The whole thing. Madison performing, the crowd laughing, my face while everyone pressed in close. The view count kept climbing.

60,000. 78,000. 93,000.

Charity case thinking she belongs here.

Someone get this girl a diet plan.

Wait is she actually living in a shed??

I locked my phone. Breathed. Unlocked it.

112,000 views.

My mom was going to see this. My teachers. The scholarship committee. Everyone who'd ever signed a document for me was going to watch my face frozen in that moment while strangers picked me apart in the comments.

I sat down on the cold pavement outside the ballroom and didn't get back up. 3 years of staying invisible. 3 years of being careful. 90 seconds to wreck all of it.

My phone buzzed.

Mom: Baby I just saw it. Leaving now give me ten minutes.

She was supposed to be working at the Ryder mansion right now. Which meant she'd been checking her phone between rooms and had seen every comment anyway. Every laughing emoji. Every stranger deciding what I was worth from a 60 second clip.

I stopped fighting it.

Her Honda pulled in 9 minutes later. No words, just an unlocked door and her arms around me. The hug smelled like lemon cleaner and a long shift and everything she never once complained about.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't." Both hands on my face, eyes wet but steady. "You stood up for yourself. I did not raise a girl who stands there and takes it."

The drive home was quiet. I went inside, changed into my oldest sweatshirt, and lay on my back in the dark.

230,000 views. Someone had already made a meme out of my face.

I turned off my phone and let myself cry. Three years of careful, and one night had been enough to erase it.

By morning, it was going to get worse.