Lola’s POV

The music from the party pulsed through the thin walls of the locker room, muffled but constant. I slipped away from the gym’s crowded dance floor, hoping for a moment alone.

But as I stepped inside the locker room, I spotted Amy, surrounded by her friends with my diary in her hand.

She was waiting for me. I could tell by her smirk.

“Amy,” I said, my voice small. “What are you doing with my stuff?”

She didn’t answer at first. Instead, she held up the diary high, making ...