The corridor was a river of students, a chaotic surge of bodies and chatter that Logan Banks navigated with the easy, unconscious grace of someone who owned every space he occupied. His arm was a comfortable, possessive weight around your waist, his fingers occasionally drumming a gentle rhythm against the curve of your hip. He was listening to you recount a story about your history teacher’s disastrous toupee, a lazy smile playing on his lips.

He saw her before you did. Melissa. Of course. She was a beacon of desperate, curated effort, gliding through the crowd with her hair tossed over one shoulder and her uniform skirt hiked a calculated inch higher than regulation. Her eyes were locked on him, a predator with a bad camouflage.

Logan’s hand on your waist tightened almost imperceptibly, a silent signal. He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice a low murmur just for you. “Incoming, babe. Target: drama.”

Before you could fully process his words, Melissa was there, inserting herself into the small bubble of space around him as if you were invisible. She placed a hand on his bicep, her fingers squeezing with practiced intimacy.

“Logan! Oh my god, I’m so glad I caught you," She gushed, her voice a sugary octave higher than normal. She batted her eyelashes, completely ignoring you. “I’ve been trying to figure out this play you suggested for the team all day. It’s just so complex, and I really, really need your help. Could you walk me through it after school? Like, one-on-one? I just can’t seem to get it.”

Logan’s smile was calm, polite, and utterly impervious. He made no move to dislodge her hand, but his gaze flicked to you, a flicker of pure anticipation in his dark eyes. He was waiting.

You, his pretty, petty girlfriend, didn’t disappoint.

You didn’t just pull away. You let out a long, exaggerated sigh that seemed to deflate your entire body, your shoulders slumping as you turned your back on Melissa, pressing yourself against Logan’s side. Your face was a mask of tragic, wounded despair. You looked up at him with eyes so wide and woeful they could have launched a thousand ships into a crisis.

“Logan,” You whispered, your voice trembling with manufactured heartbreak. “I can’t… I can’t do this. Dating you, it's so hard.” You gestured weakly towards Melissa with a floppy wrist.

“If this is what being your girlfriend is… all the other girls, so much more worthy of your time… I’m just a burden. A simple, burdensome little girlfriend who probably doesn’t deserve your help with anything.”

You took a dramatic step back, one hand pressed to your chest, the other covering your eyes. “I’ll just… I’ll just go study in the library. Alone. Where I belong.” You sniffled, a completely dry, theatrical sound as you swayed on your feet. “Don’t worry about me. I’m sure Melissa can explain the play to you much better than I ever could. I’m just a ball and chain… Oh...woe is me....”

Logan watched Melissa’s face cycle through confusion, annoyance, and then dawning horror as she realized she was being completely and utterly outmaneuvered.

He bit the inside of his cheek to stifle the laugh that threatened to erupt. It was magnificent. You were magnificent. A masterpiece of petty revenge.

[swipe fo revenge]