Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Xavier
Iknew Homecoming was going to be a mess the second they posted the nominations. I was hoping this would be a fun time for Izzy and me, that we’d bond over it and grow our relationship into something more. But this? This is straight-up warfare. Fuck, I didn’t see this coming.
The halls are buzzing with it. Whispers follow Izzy everywhere she goes, eyes darting toward her as if she’s got a scarlet letter slapped across her forehead.
Yesterday, people were hyped that she made the court.
Today? Half of them are acting like she murdered a puppy in cold blood, and I know exactly who’s behind it.
Tara and Lisa, in all their designer-clad, snake-in-the-grass glory, have been running their mouths since the list went up. Because people love a good scandal, it’s spreading like wildfire.
“Did you hear? Izzy was only nominated because the faculty felt bad for her.”
“I heard she cheated in the voting. No way people actually like her enough to vote.”
“Someone said she was kicked out of junior prom for fighting.”
It’s all bullshit. And everyone knows it. But the thing about rumors? The truth doesn’t matter. Volume does.
I slam my locker shut, scanning the hall until I spot her. Izzy’s shoulders are set, her chin high, looking like none of this bothers her. But I know better. The way her hands tighten into fists at her sides, the way her jaw ticks, shows she’s pissed.
Mia’s at her side, fuming, probably plotting some psychological warfare in retaliation. Nolan’s got his phone out, scrolling through what I’m guessing is a Homecoming drama group chat, because yeah, those exist. And me? I’m two seconds away from doing something stupid.
Instead, I push off the lockers and make my way over, blocking a sophomore who’s whispering too damn loud. “Move,” I growl. He practically jumps out of my way.
Mia spots me first. “Please tell me you’re about to start throwing hands because I swear!”
“Not yet.” I look at Izzy. “You good?”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m great. Nothing like starting the morning with a smear campaign.”
I tip my head toward Tara and Lisa, who are standing by the trophy case, fake-laughing and flipping their hair like they didn’t nuke Izzy’s reputation overnight. “Want me to handle it?”
Izzy raises a brow. “You think I can’t?”
“Nope.” I grin. “Just figured I’d give you the day off.”
Mia hums. “I do like the idea of Xavier causing a scene.”
Izzy exhales hard, as if deciding whether to let this roll off her back or set things on fire. Finally, she shakes her head. “Not worth it. I’ll win and shut them up the fun way.”
Mia grins. “By stealing their crowns? Love that journey for you.”
Before I can respond, the morning announcements come on. The moment Mr. Hart starts talking about Homecoming voting, something shifts. Lisa’s eyes cut toward Izzy, and that’s when I know. Something else is coming.
By lunch, the rumors had cooled down, but I should’ve known Tara and Lisa weren’t done.
It starts when Mia lets out an ear-piercing shriek in the cafeteria. “Are you kidding me?!”
I barely set my tray down when she shoves her phone in my face. It’s a poll from The Senior Tea, an anonymous gossip account that’s been stirring shit all year. The poll?
Who actually deserves to be Homecoming Queen?
Tara (48%)
Lisa (36%)
Izzy (16%)
Sixteen percent.
“Okay, this is rigged,” Nolan grumbles, leaning over to get a better look.
“Damn right it is.” Mia shakes her head. “This is the fakest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Izzy, to her credit, looks completely unfazed. She shoves a fry into her mouth, chews, then swallows before speaking. “It’s not that deep, guys.”
Mia gapes. “Not that…” Mia huffs out a breath. “Izzy, they’re stealing votes from you.”
“They can steal all the votes they want,” Izzy says, her voice calm. “I don’t need an online poll to tell me I’m better than they are.”
I smirk. “Hell yeah, you don’t.”
Mia huffs. “Fine. But if you suddenly lose the actual election because of some sketchy digital ballot, I’m rioting.”
Izzy steals one of my fries, effectively ending the conversation. But something in her expression tells me it isn’t over.
I’m still staring at the poll when Owen slides into the seat across from me. His eyes flick to Mia’s phone, scanning the poll results, then he lets out a low whistle. “Damn. Sixteen percent?” He shakes his head, real slow, like he actually feels bad. “That’s rough.”
Mia glares. “Wow, thanks for the insight, Sherlock.”
Owen holds up his hands. “I’m just saying, that’s a big drop from where she should be.” He glances at Izzy, and there’s something in the way he watches her, measuring her reaction, that sets me on edge. “You think someone’s messing with the votes?”
Izzy doesn’t even blink. “Obviously.”
Owen hums as if considering it. “Yeah… I mean, it’d be pretty easy to rig something like this.”
I narrow my eyes. “You seem really interested in how that’d work.”
He shrugs, all casual. “Just thinking out loud.”
No one buys that for a second, but before I can press him, he changes the subject, launching into a story about seeing Lisa making out with a college guy at the mall last weekend.
Mia’s instantly distracted, demanding details, and just like that, the conversation shifts. But I don’t stop watching Owen.
Because now I have to wonder. Who is he actually trying to help?
That thought lingers in my mind as the week barrels forward.
By Friday, we’re one day from Homecoming, and Izzy is officially running on rage and caffeine.
I’ve wanted to ask her to be my date all week, but I didn’t want to come off as pushy.
So we decided as a group to go together.
Me, Izzy, Nolan, and Mia. I’m renting the limo, and everyone is meeting at Izzy’s house at seven p.m. Mia will already be there, and Nolan will be at mine.
Since we live next door to each other, it’ll be easy.
Izzy’s dad wants some pictures of the four of us before the dance. Since Izzy lost her mom a few years ago, it’s the least we can do for them. Give them happy memories to help replace the painful ones.
And then the dress incident happens.
I find out when Nolan yanks me out of my last class, dragging me toward the girls’ locker room. “Dude, emergency.”
“What kind of emergency?”
“The Homecoming dress kind.”
I have no idea what that means, but when I push inside, I find Mia holding a shredded, completely destroyed dress, while Izzy stands there, arms crossed, looking one step away from committing arson.
“Question. Why is your dress in the girls’ locker room?” I’m genuinely curious why it isn’t safe at her house.
Izzy rolls her eyes. “Because I’m supposed to have it altered tonight, and this was the only place I could keep it so it wouldn’t wrinkle.”
“Okay.” I run a hand through my hair, blowing out an exasperated breath. “What the hell happened?”
Mia shakes the fabric. “Someone slashed her dress, Xavier. Slashed. As in, took scissors and went to town on it.”
Nolan exhales. “This is some next-level evil.”
I look at Izzy. “Do we know who did it?”
Izzy’s lips press together. “No proof. Just highly educated guesses.”
Mia scoffs. “Oh, please. Tara’s had it out for you since birth. This has her manicured claws all over it.”
I clench my jaw. This isn’t some petty high school bullshit anymore. This is deliberate. I don’t like the way Izzy’s standing there, too quiet, too still, like she’s this close to breaking.
I step closer. “We’ll fix it.”
Her jaw tics. “Not much to fix.”
“You’re right,” I say. “So we get even.”
For the first time all day, Izzy’s lips twitch. “You have a plan?”
“Oh, I always have a plan. And trust me, they won’t see it coming.”
Mia perks up. “Are we committing crimes?”
Nolan sighs. “God, please no.”
Izzy finally smirks, but her eyes are still stormy. “I don’t need revenge.”
I shrug. “Maybe not. But you do need a dress.”
She exhales, but before she can argue, Mia claps her hands. “Shopping trip. Let’s go.”
And just like that, we shift gears. After the final bell, we head to the parking lot. I glance at Izzy, watching her roll her shoulders, as if she’s trying to shake off the weight of this whole week. She can pretend all she wants, but I know her.
And Tara and Lisa? They made their biggest mistake yet because Izzy doesn’t get mad. She gets even. She’ll make sure they never forget who they messed with. I almost feel bad for Tara and Lisa. Almost.