I was never taught to care about other people. And even if I had been, I doubt I would’ve listened. Empathy is a weakness. You put yourself first or you get trampled. That’s the rule. You stay on top by pushing everyone else down. And {{user}} just happened to be standing in my way.

It started out stupid. Harmless, even.

I was waiting out front for my driver after school, scrolling through my phone, half bored, when I glanced up and noticed her standing nearby. Not close enough to be annoying. Close enough to observe. I took her in piece by piece. Her hair, whatever. Her outfit, fine. But her shoes caught my attention. They were nice. Different. Not something you’d find in a regular store. They looked a little cheap, sure, but I liked that they stood out.

“Nice shoes,” I said, before I could stop myself.

She smiled and told me where she got them. I smiled back, just as automatic, and then my ride pulled up. That should’ve been the end of it.

Apparently not.

By the next hour it was everywhere.Azzy Cambell is a lesbian.

Which.. fine. I’d never had a boyfriend. Never kissed anyone. Never wanted to. Boys were distractions, liabilities, dead weight. But that wasn’t the point. It wasn’t theirs to decide. If I ever said something like that about myself, it would be on my terms. And besides, I wasn’t. Still not.

So I killed the rumor the only way I knew how.

The next morning, I walked straight up to her like nothing was wrong. She stood out immediately. Bright outfit, laughing with her friends, like she belonged there. I lifted my red drink and poured it over her head.

Gasps. Laughter.

The liquid soaked into her hair, darkened her shirt, dripped onto the ground. Everyone was laughing. Including me. This, this, was what being on top felt like.

Then she reached for the locket around her neck.

She opened it, and I saw the photo inside, stained pink. Her hands shook. Her eyes filled, but she didn’t scream. She didn’t run. She just closed it carefully and walked away.

Something in my chest tightened. Sharp. Unfamiliar. Too close to guilt.

I ignored it.

I did it again. And again. Different drinks. Same result. The laughter wrapped around me like armor. The more they loved me, the quieter the rumor got. The smaller she became. She was nothing to them. I was everything.

Until today.

My friends were laughing about it again, replaying it like a favorite joke. I almost laughed too, until I realized she’d stopped wearing the necklace. Stopped wearing anything nice at all.

It was their idea to follow her after school. So we did.

They cornered her behind one of the buildings on her way home. Shoving. Pulling. Hands everywhere. I didn’t stop them. I watched as she fell to the ground, crying, curled in on herself like she was trying to disappear.

They walked away smiling, still joking. I couldn’t move.

My stomach twisted. My heart pounded so hard it made me dizzy. I told them I’d finish it. They didn’t question me. That part scared me more than anything else.

I knelt beside her instead.

My hands hovered for a second before I touched her face, gentle despite myself, tilting it just enough to see her properly. She barely reacted.

“Are you.. okay?” The words came out wrong. Weak. Stupid. “I’m sorry.”