he balancing act I'd perfected is wavering. Between Max, my parents, and the high school hierarchy, I can't help but feel like I'm walking a tightrope, one step away from tumbling over. Alyssa Class, the tombstone will read, the girl who had everything.

Until she didn't.

Across the hall, Marnie smirks and grabs Justin's arm, hanging off his hand for dear life. Since the disaster that was my party, she's made it clear I'm being frozen out, and she's the one taking my spot. Not that I care, but the whole thing has got my guard up. Her silence is only the first step, a subtle warning that I'm no longer part of the crowd. The worst, as they say, is yet to come.

Still, I'll be damned if I let her see me quaking in my boots. Shoulders back, I cut through the crowd of loitering students and head to my locker, ignoring the chatter that follows me. The side-glances. The smirks. Oh, how Alyssa Class has fallen, they're thinking; I'm thinking it too.

After putting away my things, I glance at my phone, smiling at the morning message from Max. Another couple of hours, and I'll be back at the gym, training with Maddie for my upcoming fight before snuggling with Max.

Part of me still doesn't believe it. If someone had told me this at the start of this year that I'd be boxing in a gym, I'd have told them they were crazy, but I'm grateful either way. Despite all the chaos with my parents and school, training and Max make me happy, and I'll be damned if I let anyone ruin it.

With a glance in my locker's mirror, I take a deep breath, allowing the air to settle in my lungs and undo the knot in my stomach. If my mother could see me, she'd say something like, Alyssa Class does not cower behind her locker, and even though the thought of her right now makes me nauseous, she's right. Marnie and the others were never my friends, and if being with Max has taught me anything, it's that caring what others think gets you nowhere, so that's what I plan to do. Not care.

I lean on the door as I wait for Tiana, taking in the wall opposite, adorned with colorful posters and announcements for upcoming events. In all the chaos of the past few months, I'd completely forgotten about prom. For a moment, I smile, remembering how good Max had looked in a tux, but after the disaster that was the last party, it's going to take some serious begging to get him to go with me. Still, I happen to be very convincing.

"Hey," says a breathless voice behind me. I turn around, smiling in relief as Tiana throws her arms around me. "Sorry, I'm late. I was talking to Marnie."

I'm instantly tense. "And what did the spawn of Satan say exactly?"

Tiana bites her lip, which means there's something she's not telling me. I fold my arms and give her this look that makes her blurt out, "She told me I need to stop talking to you, or they're going to freeze me out too."

Of course she did. Someone like Marnie isn't happy until everyone is bending her to will. "And what did you say?"

There's such a long pause that I prepare myself for the worse. Not only have I lost my parents, but now I've lost my friends too. Still, it's not the worst thing in the world. I'm not completely alone. I have the gym, Maddie, Max–

"I told her I wasn't going to stop talking to you," Tiana says, and the relief I feel is instant. Out of all my supposed friends, she is the one who always stuck by me – I don't know what I'd do without her.

"I love you," I say, hugging her, but the truth is, I wouldn't have blamed her if she'd sided against me. The key to surviving in a high school like this is to follow the masses, and going against Marnie is dangerous. "But are you sure? You know what Marnie is like."

Tiana pulls back a little and shrugs. "You're my best friend," she says, "not her. What's the worst she can do anyway?"

I bite my lip. Tiana doesn't know Marnie like I do; if Marnie feels slighted, her evil knows no bounds. Still, not wanting to alarm Tiana – or make her change her mind – I smile and say, "Exactly."

The bell rings, and we walk arm in arm to our next class, passing Marnie and Justin on the way, who narrow their eyes when they see we're a united front. It won't be long before Marnie concocts some rumor to make our lives a misery, but for now, I'm just grateful to have my best friend still.

As soon as I make it to English, I slip into my usual seat next to Kino, who has done a pretty good job of being mute lately. In fact, last night at the milkshake bar was the first time he'd talked to me, which is why I'd been surprised he agreed to help me with a job.

"Hey," I say as he stares at the board, and he slowly turns his head. For a moment, he stares at me, eyebrows slightly furrowed in the middle, like Max's do whenever he's deep in thought. I wait for him to answer, wondering if he's about to ignore me completely when the corner of his mouth tilts.

"Hey."

Progress. I lean forward a little, resting my chin on the palm of my hand, and try to coax more out of him. "If I fall asleep in this class, can you nudge me before I snore?"

Despite his best efforts not to, he smiles. "You snore?"

"Hey, it was a shock to me, too," I say, and for a moment, all feels right again.

"You know you can buy these nasal strips, right?" he says thoughtfully. "They help to open your passageways or something."

I laugh because I've missed this. Before Kino found out I was with Max, we were friends, and it was nice to talk to someone who cared instead of pretending to care. Maybe it's a little optimistic, but this conversation is a good sign.

"Oh, I almost forgot–" he turns to look at me properly now, and in the silence that follows, his dark eyes take on this far-off look like he's thinking of something else, "–my manager said you can come in for a trial shift when you're ready."

"Really?"

"Yeah." He shrugs like it's no big deal, but really, he's saving my life. The truth is, having to rely on Max because my parents cut me off has royally sucked.

"What about tonight?" I ask eagerly. I'm supposed to be training for my fight with Maddie later, but if I can get my trial shift out of the way beforehand, I could land a part-time job and get some training in.

He shrugs again. "Tonight is fine. Do you have any experience with working in hospitality?"

"Does eating out count?"

His mouth ticks upward, like the idea of me working a part-time job is comical, but I don't care. I'm just happy to claw back a little independence, even if it is making milkshakes.

***

'm nervous as I don my apron and hairnet, trying to remember everything Kino said, but the more he lists off things to do, the more flustered I start to feel. When he's finished, I get out my phone and see Max has replied to my earlier message telling him about the job.

I smile and put my phone away before remembering I want to be sick. A new line of customers pour through the doors and slip into the available booths. I grab the counter for support, trying to stop my palms from sweating, and go over the order of ingredients to add in my head.

"You'll be fine," Kino says, but he's so busy cleaning the sundae glasses that he doesn't see how nervous I am. "It's pretty easy once you get into the swing of things."

I nod unconvincingly, unable to calm the nerves. Even though I'd never had a job before, I figured how hard could it be? I'm starting to doubt that decision.

"Kino is right," the manager, Peter, says as he walks over to us. He looks the surfer type, in his mid-forties, with soft blond hair, pale eyes, and one of those reassuring smiles that instantly puts you at ease. If I somehow end up burning down the milkshake bar, I'm hoping he won't hold it against me. "Once you make your first milkshake, you'll see how easy it is. The most important thing is a smile. You said you've worked in hospitality before, right?"

"Uh, a little."

"See? You're already halfway there. Just try and have fun, kiddo."

Before I can answer – or throw up – one of the servers walks over and gives me a list of milkshakes to make. The first is the Oreo Deluxe, but at least three things are substituted, and it needs Lacto-free milk instead of regular. I frown and stare at the ingredients before me, frozen with indecision. What had Kino said about the order? Did it matter? How many scoops? I throw in what I think looks right and press the blend button before watching it all squash together.

When it's ready, I dump it into the glass and try to make it look all fancy with whipped cream on top, but it ends up looking like slop. Peter pops over my shoulder, takes one look as I hand it to the customer, and grimaces.

"I'm thinking maybe we can get you started on serving," he says. "You said that's what you're experience was in, right? And then later on, we can train you up on the milkshakes when we have more time."

I'm so grateful to be getting away from the milkshakes that I say, "Sure," before following him to the nearest table. It's a group of what look like working professionals, two men and two women, all dressed in office wear. I stand before them, smile at the ready, and say, "Hi there, I'm Alyssa, and I'm going to be your server today. Are you ready to order?"

They barely look at me as they list their orders, speaking so quickly that I hardly have time to write anything down. After asking them to repeat themselves for the third time, I feel my skin grow hotter. "Sure thing," I say before heading to the milkshake bar, where I relay the order to Kino.

"How's it going?" he asks. "You're looking a little flustered. In fact–" He leans closer and squints at my forehead. "Alyssa Class, is that sweat?" He grins as he says it, like the thought of me sweating over hard work is unusual, but I don't have the energy to side-eye him.

"This isn't sweat," I say, rubbing my forehead. "It's my natural glow. And anyway, I'm fine."

But I'm lying. In fact, this whole thing feels like a lie – like I'm pretending to be someone I'm not. Someone intelligent and capable and wholly independent. Someone who's not me. Kino passes me the milkshakes, and I carry them back to my table.

The blonde looks up at me, clearly unimpressed. "I asked for mine without the cookie."

"And I asked for mine without cream," the brunette says.

"Also, mine is chocolate when I wanted vanilla."

"Right," I say, flustered. "Sorry, I'll just go and–"

"Where's my water?" the guy asks. "I ordered it about thirty minutes ago. I'm thirsty."

"Water," I repeat, still trying to smile. "Coming right up."

"Um, I'm sorry," someone from the table over says, "but I asked for extra whipped cream."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." My cheeks flush, and I make a mental note to add a dollop of whipped cream to the milkshake and return to my table. "I'll be back in a moment with your orders."

Hands shaking, I scoop the drinks onto the tray and try to balance it on my palm the way they do in the movies, only instead of strolling back to the kitchen like I know what I'm doing, the milkshakes suddenly slip from the tray and smash across the floor.

The whole diner freezes. My eyes widen, and I buckle under their judgemental gazes before turning to Kino. He's frozen, too, his hand across his face like he's embarrassed on my behalf, and I swear, I want to die. Next to him is Peter, wearing the kind of look that suggests he regrets giving me this trial shift, and just like that, I can't do this – I was stupid for thinking I could. Without another word, I untie my apron, leave it on the counter, and walk out to the parking lot, hiding behind the trash can to cry.

❤️