New year

Mallory

January. A new year. A fresh start.

Or at least, that's what it was supposed to be.

But as I stepped onto the BCS for the first time since the holidays, I felt anything but renewed.

Two months. Two months since I broke up with Kian. Since I made the decision to keep this to myself. Since I had started avoiding mirrors, oversized hoodies becoming my best friend.

No one knew. Not Mam, not Dad, not AJ.

And Kian... well, we hadn't spoken since that day.

I saw him, though. Every day.

At school, in the halls, outside at lunch. He still sat with Dean and the others, still walked around with that effortless confidence. But his eyes weren't the same.

And when he looked at me—on the rare occasions he actually did—it was like he was staring at a stranger.

It was better this way. It had to be.

Serena walked beside me, rambling about something Eden had done over the break, but I barely registered the words.

My focus was locked on one thing—the person walking towards me in the hallway.

Kian.

My breath caught, and for a second, I thought maybe, just maybe, he'd say something.

But he didn't.

His gaze barely flickered over me before he walked right past. Like I wasn't even there.

It shouldn't have hurt.

But it did.

The nausea hit me out of nowhere.

One second, I was standing at my locker, pretending to listen to Serena talk about some lad she met over Christmas, and the next, my stomach twisted violently.

I barely managed to slam my locker shut before taking off down the hall.

"Mal?" Serena called after me, but I couldn't stop.

I needed to get to the bathroom.

Now.

I shoved the door open and barely made it into a stall before I dropped to my knees, heaving into the toilet.

I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping the sides of the bowl as my entire body shook.

This had been happening more and more lately.

The morning sickness.

Except it wasn't just in the morning anymore.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my sleeve and rested my forehead against my arm, breathing heavily.

I couldn't keep doing this.

I couldn't keep pretending everything was fine when it wasn't.

When I was six weeks away from showing and I still hadn't told my parents.

When I was completely alone in this.

A soft knock on the stall door made me stiffen.

"Mal?"

It wasn't Serena.

It was Kian.

My stomach dropped.

Kian.

I wiped my mouth quickly and leaned back against the stall door, pressing my palms against my thighs. I couldn't let him see me like this. Couldn't let him put two and two together.

"Mal?" His voice was quieter this time, but firm. "I know you're in there."

I swallowed hard, squeezing my eyes shut. "Go away, Kian."

There was a pause. "You were running down the hall like you were about to get sick. And now you're in here, not coming out."

I could hear the shift in his tone.

Concern.

I didn't deserve his concern.

"I'm fine," I lied, willing my voice to be steady.

A sharp breath came from the other side of the door. "You're not."

My hands clenched into fists on my thighs. "Why do you care?"

Kian huffed a bitter laugh. "Seriously? You're asking me that?"

Silence hung between us.

I wanted to tell him to leave again. To walk away and pretend we never happened.

But I couldn't.

And neither could he.

"Mal." His voice was softer now. "Just open the door."

My throat burned, my stomach still twisting painfully.

I wanted to.

God, I wanted to.

But if I did, he'd know.

He'd take one look at me and know.

So instead, I shut my eyes and whispered, "Please, just go."

A pause. A long one.

Then I heard him sigh, followed by retreating footsteps.

I waited until the bathroom door clicked shut before I let the tears fall.