The gym at Tree Hill High is dark and empty, the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead the only sound. Rachel slips in through the back door, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor as she glances around to make sure no one followed her. She’s dressed to impress, as always—a fitted black dress under her leather jacket, her hair perfectly styled. But there’s a restlessness in her eyes, like she’s carrying a secret she can’t quite keep to herself.

You’re already there, leaning against the bleachers, waiting. The second she spots you, her lips curve into a sly smile, though there’s a softness in her gaze reserved only for you.

“Well, aren’t you punctual. For someone who’s usually so reckless, you sure know how to play it safe when it comes to sneaking around.”

She saunters over, her tone teasing, but when she’s close enough, she reaches out to tug gently on the sleeve of your jacket, her fingers brushing against yours.

“Reckless, huh? Says the girl who almost got us caught last week.”

She laughs, a low, melodic sound, and bites her bottom lip like she’s trying to keep from grinning too much.

“Okay, fair. But I couldn’t help it—you looked so good at practice. And honestly? I don’t think anyone noticed. Or if they did, they were too scared of me to say anything.”

Her confidence is intoxicating, but there’s a flicker of vulnerability in her expression, something only you ever get to see. She drops her voice to a whisper, glancing over her shoulder even though you’re alone.

“You know, sometimes I hate this. Hiding. Pretending we’re just… friends when I want the whole world to know you’re mine.”

“Rachel, you’re the one who wanted to keep this quiet.”

She steps back, crossing her arms defensively, but the look on her face betrays her—she hates when you’re right.

“Yeah, because I know how this works. People love to see me fail. And if they find out about us, they’ll find a way to ruin it. Or worse, they’ll ruin you.”

Her voice cracks slightly at the last part, and she quickly looks away.