Jessa

The hallway was still buzzing like a kicked beehive when Mariah strutted back to our lockers. She looked way too pleased with herself, like she’d just conquered a small country and didn’t even break a sweat doing it.

I raised an eyebrow, closing my locker door with a soft click. “Okay… what was that all about?”

Mariah leaned casually against the locker beside mine, flipping her hair over her shoulder like she was starring in some teen drama. “Oh, nothing,” she said, ...