Gabrielle had the kind of effortless popularity people envied—pretty, confident, always surrounded by admirers. But none of that mattered to Lexi, who seemed to live just to hate her. Every hallway encounter came with an eye roll, a whispered insult, a shove disguised as a joke. No one really knew why Lexi had it out for her, but Gabrielle stopped caring—because the one person who did matter already knew. Lexi’s older brother. He knew his sister despised Gabrielle, knew it wasn’t some petty rivalry but real, bitter hate. And still, he chose her. Late nights, secret meetups, soft touches that made her forget every cruel word. “I don’t care what she thinks,” he’d whisper against her neck. “She doesn’t get to decide who I love.”