The walk home should have been quiet.
Normal.
Simple.
But nothing felt simple anymore.
Alex walked beside Max, her bag pressed tightly against her side, the weight of the cruel drawing still sitting heavy in her chest. The sky was a soft pink, the sun dipping low, and students trickled out of the school gates in groups.
Max kept pace with her without saying much.
He didn't rush her.
He didn't stare.
He didn't pressure her to talk.
But every few seconds, he glanced her way, like he was checking to make sure she was still holding together.
She wasn't.
Not really.
Halfway down the road, Max finally spoke.
"Are you always this quiet on the way home?"
Alex looked at the ground. "No. Today is… different."
Max nodded like he understood every unspoken word.
"The drawing bothered you."
Her fingers tightened on her bag strap. "Wouldn't it bother anyone?"
"Yes," he said. "But you're trying to pretend it didn't."
That stung, but it was true.
Alex exhaled shakily. "I just… don't understand why people are doing this. I didn't do anything to them."
Max slowed his pace.
"That's the thing," he said. "You don't have to do anything. Sometimes people just need a target. Someone soft. Someone they think won't fight back."
Alex stopped walking.
She looked at him. Really looked at him.
"Is that what you think of me?" she whispered. "That I don't fight back?"
Max's expression sharpened, and he stepped closer.
"No," he said firmly. "I think you've been fighting alone for too long."
Her breath caught.
He wasn't wrong.
She'd spent years swallowing rumors, ignoring the whispers about her and Ryan, letting herself be pushed aside because it was easier than defending herself.
Max turned toward her fully. "Let me handle this."
The way he said it didn't feel controlling.
It didn't feel possessive.
It felt protective.
But Alex shook her head.
"Max, if you get into another fight because of me, the school will suspend you."
He didn't deny it.
He didn't promise to behave.
He just stared at her, silent, his jaw flexing.
"You're not the one who should be punished," Max said quietly.
Alex's voice wavered. "And what if the person who made the drawing wants exactly this? To make you angry? To make a scene?"
Max's eyes narrowed. "You think it's Chloe."
Alex hesitated. "I don't know. It feels like something she'd do."
"Or someone who wants to make Chloe look innocent," Max said. "Someone smarter. Someone who knows you well."
Alex froze.
A horrible thought crept into her mind.
No.
No, Ryan would never do something like this.
Max saw the flicker of fear in her eyes. His voice softened immediately.
"Alex, I'm not saying it's him. But someone is trying to isolate you. This morning's drawing was personal. This one was public. Whoever it is… they're escalating."
She wrapped her arms around herself.
"It feels like I'm suffocating."
Max took a slow breath, like he was holding back the urge to pull her into his arms.
Then he said, "You're not alone."
Her heart thudded painfully.
But before she could respond, a loud voice cut through the air.
"There you are!"
Alex turned.
Ryan was jogging toward them, breathless, panic in his eyes.
Max's entire body tensed.
Ryan stopped a few feet away, chest rising and falling. "I was looking for you. I didn't like how we ended things earlier."
Alex exhaled, exhausted.
Not now.
Not this.
"We didn't end anything," she said. "We were in the middle of practice."
Ryan flinched.
Max didn't move, but his expression hardened.
Ryan looked between them, clearly noticing how close they stood.
"You should have told me you were going home," Ryan said.
"She doesn't have to tell you anything," Max replied.
Ryan's jaw tightened. "I'm talking to her. Not you."
Max's voice stayed calm. "And I'm reminding you of the part you keep forgetting."
"What part?" Ryan snapped.
"That she's not yours."
The air cracked like electricity.
Students nearby turned to stare.
Ryan took a dangerous step forward, but Alex rushed between them.
"Stop," she said firmly. "Both of you."
Max's eyes narrowed, but he stepped back half a foot.
Ryan scrubbed a hand through his hair, looking desperate. "Alex… can we talk? Alone?"
Alex opened her mouth, unsure what to say.
Max spoke first.
"No."
Ryan glared. "She can answer for herself."
Alex sighed. "Ryan, I'm tired. Can we talk tomorrow?"
Ryan's face fell. "Tired… of me?"
Alex's stomach twisted. "No. Just tired."
Max watched her with an unreadable expression. He didn't look smug. He didn't look triumphant.
He looked… angry at how worn out she was.
Ryan swallowed hard. "Fine. Tomorrow."
He turned and walked away, shoulders stiff.
Alex closed her eyes. "This is getting out of hand."
Max spoke quietly.
"It was out of hand a long time ago. You were just too busy trying to survive it to notice."
Alex's throat tightened.
"Let me walk you the rest of the way," Max said.
She nodded.
They walked in silence until they reached her house.
When they stopped at the gate, Alex turned to him.
"Thank you," she said.
Max studied her face. "For what?"
"For staying."
For seeing me.
For defending me.
For not treating me like a rumor.
For not letting me drown.
She didn't say those things.
She couldn't.
But Max seemed to hear them anyway.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"I don't want you going through this alone anymore."
Alex felt her heart catch in her throat.
"Max…"
He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers grazing her cheek.
"You don't owe Ryan anything," he said. "Remember that."
Her breath trembled.
Then he stepped back.
"I'll see you tomorrow."
Alex watched him walk away, every step heavy with meaning she didn't know how to process.
And she knew one thing with absolute certainty.
Tomorrow was going to change everything.