The school commons was buzzing in that loud, tired way it always was on a Monday morning—especially the first one back after Christmas break. The heaters clicked faintly against the windows, and someone was already blasting music from a speaker tucked in their bag.

She spotted them instantly—her friends, their usual corner crowded with backpacks and takeaway cups. Johnny slouched with his hood up, Lizzie throwing grapes at Patrick, Shannon rolling her eyes at something Joey said.

And Hughie.

Hughie Biggs was right in the center of it, just like always.

But this time, he wasn’t alone.

His girlfriend was curled up beside him, legs draped across his lap like she belonged there, her perfectly painted nails tracing circles on his chest. He was smiling at something she whispered in his ear, and before she could even blink, the girl leaned up and kissed him—full on the mouth. Slow. Familiar.

Her boots suddenly felt too heavy. Her heart a little too loud.

Because a week ago—New Year's Eve—Hughie had kissed her.

Outside. Under the fireworks. In the freezing dark where the sky split with light and he held her face like she was the only girl in the world. His lips had tasted like cider and sugar and promises he never said out loud.

She hadn’t stopped thinking about it.

And now he was acting like it hadn’t happened.

He looked up just then—maybe a flicker of instinct, or maybe guilt—and saw her across the room. He froze. Completely.

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes as she walked past the table. She didn’t say hello. Didn’t sit beside him like she always did. Instead, she shot him a look—a glare sharp enough to slice. It was small, quiet, but it burned.

She didn’t need to say a word.

Because Hughie knew exactly what it meant.

He’d kissed her under fireworks… And kissed someone else under fluorescent lights.