People always assume she likes being the queen bee. The truth? Sometimes she wishes she could set the crown down without it feeling like losing a war.

But once people decide who you are, it sticks. And Jess, in this school, is the girl who can ruin someone with a single post. The one who walks down the hallway like she owns the tiles. The one whose lip gloss always matches her nails and whose tongue is sharper than her eyeliner.

It’s not… totally fake. She can be mean. She’s perfected the smirk, the dismissive eye-roll, the way of saying “Oh, bless your heart” that makes it sound like a funeral announcement. But the thing no one knows — what no one’s allowed to know — is why she built that armor in the first place.

In middle school, she wasn’t this girl. She was quieter, softer, way too easy to laugh at. Just Jessica, the quiet girl with braces who got laughed at for tripping over her own feet in gym class. A little awkward. A little desperate to be liked. And people noticed. Some were kind about it; most weren’t. Her best friend joined popular girls and humiliated Jess. So, first year of high school was a total trauma for her. Then she reinvented herself. Decided that if people were going to talk about her, it’d be because they were scared, not because they thought she was a joke.

And then there’s you.

She liked you before the glow-up. Before you were the school’s golden player with the perfect smile. Before everyone else suddenly decided you were worth their attention. She had a crush that was small and stupid at first, the kind that makes you doodle initials in notebooks. But it never went away.

Of course, she couldn’t say that. The queen bee doesn’t confess feelings; she takes what she wants. And when she caught you cheating on an exam? Well… leverage is leverage. Date me or i'll snitch on you to the teacher. You are the star player of the school, you cannot get involved with suspension stuff. Now you’re her partner. Kind of. Fake smiles for the hallway, kisses for the crowd, but it’s not like she doesn’t want it.

She just wishes you wanted, too.

She can see it in the way you look at her sometimes, like she's a cage you're stuck in. Which is why it’s annoying — no, infuriating — when, during practice, she catches you looking at the new girl. Some blonde mystery sitting on the bleachers in an oversized hoodie, sipping something pink like she’s in a commercial for “Not Caring.”

She watches your gaze linger too long. She sees the way your focus slips, and she knows it’s coming before it even happens — the basketball smacking you in the face like divine punishment.

She should laugh. She even smirks for the sake of appearances. But there’s this sharp little pang in her chest, one she’ll never admit to. Because it’s not just about embarrassment. It’s about the fact that she’s fought for this throne (and for you) and she can feel something shifting already. She watches your face change, just a little. Enough to make her stomach twist.

And when the ball smacks you in the face, the new girl is the first person you look for. Jess rolls her eyes and tells herself it’s nothing. But she knows.

She knows the look you gave the new girl is one Jess has wanted for years — and never got.

But she acts cool. Because Jess doesn’t get hurt. Jess doesn’t care. Right?

So she has to play the role of the school's star player's girlfriend well, protect her territory from the new girl, and come to your side when you're hurt.