Tate shifted on her feet, glancing around the bus stop as she waited for Martha. She still couldn't believe this was actually happening. This morning, she'd set out with a goal—to talk to Martha. And now, she was meeting up with her for a tutoring session.
When Martha arrived, she gave Tate a small smile. "Hey, ready?"
"Yeah," Tate said, pushing her nerves down. "Where are we going?"
"There's a library not too far from here. It's quiet, and we can actually focus."
A library? Tate frowned. She'd been going to this school for years and had no idea there was a library nearby. How had she never noticed it?
Maybe she really did spend too much time in her own head.
The walk was short, just five minutes, but it felt even shorter because, surprisingly, it wasn't awkward. Martha didn't feel the need to fill every silence with small talk, and Tate appreciated that.
When they arrived, Tate blinked up at the small, unassuming building. It wasn't flashy or grand, just a quiet place tucked away from the busy streets.
"How have I never noticed this before?" she muttered under her breath.
Inside, the air was cool, carrying the faint scent of old books and paper. It looked exactly how a library should. They found a table near the back, away from distractions, and Martha pulled out her notebook.
"Alright," Martha said, flipping through a page. "Let's start with what you don't understand."
Tate wanted to say "everything" but decided to play it cool. She didn't want to look like a complete loser to a girl she wanted to befriend. Instead, she casually said, "The last topic Mr. Matthew taught us."
Martha chuckled but didn't make her feel stupid. Instead, she started breaking things down, explaining in a way that actually made sense. And for once, the numbers didn't feel like a foreign language.
"Oh," Tate said after a while, her eyes widening as something clicked. "Wait… I get it now."
Martha grinned. "See? It's not as bad as you think."
An hour passed faster than Tate expected, and before she knew it, they were packing up. She actually felt… good. She had learned something today—really learned it, not just memorize or space out.
"Thanks for this," Tate said as they stepped outside. "Seriously."
Martha waved a hand like it was nothing. "Anytime. But I have to go now if I want to catch my bus."
Tate nodded. "No problem. See you tomorrow in school."
As Martha headed off, Tate hesitated for a moment before making a decision—she'd walk home instead of taking the bus. Today had been a good day. She had set her mind to do something, and it actually worked.
That was a mini win.
Now, she just needed to figure out how to get to know Martha better, to be like her. Martha always had attention wherever she went, while Tate felt like she faded into the background. She wanted to change that this year. If she could become friends with Martha—or even become more like her—maybe she'd finally be noticed.
This was her shot at making a change in her life and finally stepping out of the shadows.
When Tate got home, the aroma of dinner filled the air, and she saw that her mom had already cooked.
"Good evening, Mom," she said, dropping her bag by the door.
"Evening, dear. How was school?"
"It was fine," Tate replied, not wanting to get into the details .
She headed upstairs to freshen up, letting the warm water wash away the day's exhaustion. Once she was in her pajamas, she sat on her bed, her mind already drifting to tomorrow.
How was she supposed to approach Martha again? She couldn't use the tutoring excuse—that had already worked today. And if she kept asking for help with schoolwork, she'd just look dumb.
Tate sighed, flopping onto her back.
She had to figure something out. She couldn't let this slip away.
She had to make it work.
The next day, as Tate walked through the hallway, she spotted Landon coming her way. , she waved at him to say hi.
"Hey, Landon," she said with a small smile.
He walked right past her like she wasn't even there.
Ouch.
Tate was used to being ignored, but for some reason, she hadn't expected it from Landon. Was he still mad about the way she rejected Allen? If that was the reason, it was ridiculous.
She glanced over her shoulder, debating. Should she go up to him and ask what his problem was? Or should she just let it go?
She decided to let it go. She didn't have the energy for any drama.
When she stepped into the classroom, a scent hit her—rich and distinct, a mix of fruits and wood. It wasn't overpowering, but it stood out.
Tate glanced around, trying to figure out where it was coming from. Then, her eyes landed on Damien.
They locked eyes for a brief moment before she quickly looked away.
Wait… was it him?
She had been sitting next to him for days and never noticed that he smelled like this. But now that she thought about it, she vaguely remembered catching a hint of it when he was first introduced to the class.
Had he drenched himself in cologne today? Because the scent was definitely stronger than before.
Tate caught herself staring at Damien again. Or rather, not at him—but at the scent that lingered around him. Was she weird for noticing? For actually liking it?
She shook off the thought. It wasn't her fault he decided to take his bath in cologne today.
The rest of the day passed in a blur, but she couldn't focus. Two people occupied her mind.
Martha.
She found herself stealing glances at her throughout the day. Everything about Martha was perfect—her face, her fair complexion that made her look almost goddess-like, and her body. Puberty had clearly done its work on her. Being a few months older than Tate, Martha was already fifteen. Meanwhile, Tate, still fourteen and turning fifteen at the end of the year, felt like she was stuck in a body that refused to grow.
Anytime she complained to her mom, she got the same reassurances: You'll hit puberty soon, and it'll give you your dream body. But Tate didn't believe it. She knew her mom was just trying to make her feel better.
And then there was Damien.
His scent was… intoxicating. It was messing with her head. The guy didn't even acknowledge her existence, but here she was, completely obsessed with how he smelled. This is crazy.
Before she knew it, the day was over, and everyone was packing up.
Tate saw Martha slipping books into her bag and decided this was her chance. Taking a deep breath, she walked up to her.
"Hey, Martha," she said, forcing herself to sound casual. "I've been meaning to talk to you. I just wanted to say thanks for yesterday. It really meant a lot to me."
Martha glanced up and smiled. "You're welcome. It was nothing."
And then Martha asked something that caught her completely off guard.
"Would you like to hang out this weekend?"
Tate stuttered. "Yes—I mean, no! I mean… yes." She groaned internally before managing, "I'd love to hang out with you, but I have to ask my parents first."
Martha chuckled. "No problem, just let me know your answer."
Tate nodded, but then Martha added, "Wait… how will you tell me? It's Friday, and we don't have school tomorrow."
Tate mentally cursed her luck. This is why I need a cell phone. If she had one, this wouldn't be an issue. But her mom was the only obstacle standing between her and getting one. If it were up to her, she'd have the latest model by now.
Then, an idea hit her.
"Can you give me your number?" she asked. "I'll write it down and find a way to call you from someone else's phone."
Martha nodded. "That works." She scribbled her number on a small piece of paper and handed it to Tate.
As Martha walked away, Tate grinned to herself. She had to pinch her arm to make sure she wasn't dreaming. Martha Flames wants to hang out with me.
Oh my God.
Still riding the excitement, Tate glanced up—and locked eyes with Damien.
He was staring at her.
She frowned. Why is he looking at me like that? That's weird.
Shaking off the thought, she grabbed her bag and walked out of the classroom.
In the hallway, she spotted Landon and immediately remembered how he had ignored her earlier.
Should I ask him what's wrong? she wondered. She didn't like the way he was avoiding her.
She was still debating when, out of nowhere, Allen appeared in front of her.
"Tate," he said, his tone serious. "We need to talk."