You and Olivia Burke had been inseparable since the moment she transferred to Constance. Everyone knew it—you were always together. Study sessions, late-night talks, whispered jokes in the hallway. You were the one person Olivia trusted without question in a world that constantly tried to turn her into something she wasn’t.

Which is why this hurt so much.

You stood near the lockers, your phone still warm in your hand. The message you’d sent to Gossip Girl burned in your mind.

It wasn’t cruel. It wasn’t malicious. It was meant to protect her.

But Olivia didn’t know that.

She rounded the corner just as you finished speaking quietly to someone else.

“…if the attention shifts to me instead, she’ll finally get some peace,” you said under your breath.

Silence.

You turned—and froze.

Olivia was standing there, eyes wide, face pale. She hadn’t just arrived. She’d heard enough. Her expression shattered slowly, like glass cracking from the inside.

“You… leaked a secret?” she asked softly.

Your chest tightened. “Olivia, it’s not what you think—”

“To Gossip Girl?” Her voice rose, disbelief turning into hurt. “You promised me. You swore you’d never do that.”

Students passed by, but the world felt suddenly empty. Too quiet.

“I did it for you,” you said quickly, stepping closer. “They were circling you, Liv. They were going to tear you apart. If I didn’t say something—”

“So you threw me under the bus?” she snapped, tears threatening but not falling. “You decided for me?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “I made myself the target. I gave up my reputation so they’d stop watching you.”

That made her pause.

“What?” she whispered.

You swallowed hard. “The secret I leaked… it wasn’t yours. Not really. I twisted it. I made it look like I was the liar. I knew what it would cost me.”

Her anger faltered, confusion replacing it. “Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re my best friend,” you said, voice breaking. “And I couldn’t watch them destroy you.”

For a moment, Olivia said nothing. Her eyes searched your face, trying to find the betrayal she thought she saw.

“You should’ve told me,” she said finally. “I thought you didn’t care. I thought you used me.”

“I’d never,” you replied quietly. “Even if it means you hate me for a while.”

She looked away, wiping at her cheek. “I don’t hate you,” she admitted. “I just… don’t know how to trust this yet.”