Chapter 1 Invisible
Invisible
Ali
Ali stared at the blinking cursor on her laptop screen, praying it would type something brilliant on its own.
It didn’t.
Dr. Mitchell’s voice droned on at the front of the room— something about narrative tension and “writing from the wound,” which, on any other day, Ali would’ve loved.
But today her brain was cotton. She tapped her pen against her notebook, ignoring the mostly empty page in front of her and doodling a lopsided flower in the margin.
This was what she wanted. What she loved— words, stories, turning messy feelings into sentences that made people feel something. Her dad called it “fluff.” Said she was smart enough to do something practical. Like accounting.
God, she’d rather eat glass.
A text buzzed on her phone.
Daisy:
Lunch after class? ?? I need to talk to youuuuuu
Ali smiled, already hearing Daisy’s dramatic voice in her head. She was a hurricane in designer sandals— always talking, always sparkling, always pulling Ali into things she had no business doing. And Ali let her. Always.
She glanced at the clock— thirty more minutes. Just ten minutes, three times. That’s how she always tricked her brain: break the time down, make it smaller, easier to survive. Ten minutes didn’t feel so bad
She shifted in her seat, the desk creaking slightly beneath her. Being the curviest girl in class always made her hyper-aware of the space she took up, especially in these old lecture hall chairs clearly built for someone with half her hips and none of her thighs.
Still, she sat up straighter and took a breath.
You’re here, she reminded herself. You made it to MBU. This is not the junior college in your hometown. You’re doing the damn thing.
And maybe— just maybe— one day her stories would take her somewhere bigger than hometown of Honeyshore or Peach Cove (where MBU was located). Somewhere she didn’t feel so… ordinary.
Ali beat Daisy to Sandytown Diner, their usual lunch spot. She picked a booth in the back and ordered a Coke Zero while she waited on her bestie. She wasn’t sure when Daisy would actually get there since 12:30 meant like 1:15ish to Daisy, so she pulled out her Kindle to pass the time.
“I swear, if I have to hear one more time about her yacht named after a Kardashian, I’m going to drown myself in a whole gallon of those frickin’ Celsius drinks she’s obsessed with.”
Daisy slammed her purse and backpack down on the bench seat across from Ali, startling the shit out of her in the process. Daisy’s oversized sunglasses slid to the end of her nose, revealing the dramatic eye roll she’d perfected since middle school.
Ali stifled a laugh, putting away her Kindle. “You picked Kappa Nu. You knew what you were signing up for.”
“Correction,” Daisy said, holding up a manicured finger. “I picked Kappa Nu because I have taste. I did not pick this monster child for my Little.”
Ali raised a brow. “She can’t be that bad.”
“She says ‘supposably.’ On purpose. Like it’s a personality trait.”
Ali snorted.
“She cried because she didn’t get the peach Stanley cup in her bid basket. Then she tried to trade someone for theirs like it was the Hunger Games.” Daisy leaned in, lowering her voice dramatically. “She also asked me what a GPA was. Or, as she called it, ’a gappa’”.
“No.”
“Oh yes. Oh! And after I explained what a GPA is… she said— and I quote— ‘Do we even have to worry about that if our dads donate enough?’”
Ali coughed on her soda, laughing. “She’s a legacy, right?”
Daisy flopped back in her seat. “Of course she is. Her mom was president back when Kappa Nu was more interested in charm bracelets and diet pills than actual philanthropy.”
Ali rolled her eyes but smiled. This was the part of Daisy she loved— the unfiltered drama, the way she could turn a trip to the local cafe into an episode of Real Housewives: Panhellenic Edition.
Ali always felt a little invisible next to her, but never in a bad way. Daisy sparkled enough for both of them.
“Oh! I talked to Dylan last night. His trip to Orlando was going even better than expected!”
Coach Busby had practically exploded with pride when Dylan got the invitation.
Magnolia Bluff wasn’t a giant school— they didn’t get that kind of attention.
Guys from their conference usually hoped for a decent showing at a regional Pro Day, maybe a film clip passed around if they were lucky.
But Dylan? He got a private workout with the actual Orlando Tritons.
That wasn’t just big. That was unheard of.
She was so proud of him.
Ali tried to look unbothered, sipping her Coke Zero like her stomach wasn’t tying itself into knots.
But the name alone— Dylan McKenzie— was enough to stir up that stupid, familiar ache in her chest. Star quarterback, campus golden boy, Daisy’s older brother.
He was everything girls swooned over: tall, smart, quiet in a way that made you lean in when he talked.
But what got to her wasn’t all that. It was the way he looked at people— really looked.
Like they mattered. Like they weren’t just part of the crowd.
And for a fleeting second, once or twice, she thought maybe he’d looked at her that way, too.
Of course, she knew better. Dylan had sworn off dating, said he was laser-focused on football and his grades.
He wasn’t interested in drama, parties, or the attention that came with his last name.
He barely talked to anyone outside of the team or his classes, and he definitely didn’t notice quiet girls like Ali Presley—girls who stayed on the edges of the room, who were more comfortable writing about love than living it.
Daisy was now mid-rant about the horrors of organizing a Kappa Nu mixer with the swim team (“They smell like microwaved protein powder, Ali, I’m not exaggerating”) when a shadow passed over their table.
“Well, if it isn’t the social chair herself,” a warm voice said behind them.
Daisy blinked, then screeched. “DYLAN?!”
Ali turned, and— holy crap.
There he was. Dylan McKenzie.
Even in a simple MBU navy tee, jeans, and backwards MBU baseball cap he looked like the posters in the Magnolia Bluff student store in real life— tall, broad-shouldered, and stupidly handsome.
His dark hair was a little longer than she remembered, pushed back like he’d been running a hand through it all day.
His face was tanner, jaw a little sharper, like he’d been living on energy drinks, protein bars, and stress.
But his eyes— those gray-blue eyes that light up the whole stadium— locked onto hers for half a second, and her heart gave a traitorous little skip.
“Surprise,” he said, grinning as Daisy launched herself at him.
“What are you doing here? You weren’t supposed to come back till Friday!”
“Coach asked me to come back early. Needs me to work with a red shirt— Busby said the guy's going through some things.”
He hugged her with one arm, his duffel bag still slung over the other shoulder. “Figured I’d drop by and say hey before I hit the weight room. Followed by an all-nighter at The Pen”. MBU’s library, The Pennington Resource Hall.
The guy never rested. He’d always been afraid of becoming a cliché— just another “dumb jock.” So, he worked his ass off to maintain a 4.
0 while still being the best on the field.
He didn’t date, didn’t drink, and when he showed up at fraternity parties or socials, it was mostly to keep things from getting out of control.
He’d socialize, sure— but that was about it.
“Hey Dylan,” Ali managed to sound normal. “Welcome back.”
Dylan smiled— just a flicker, nothing major— but something about the way he looked at her made her entire body feel suddenly aware of itself.
“Thanks,” he said. “You girls get into trouble while I was gone?”
“Well, I got Veruca Salt as my Little this year,” Daisy whined. Dylan just laughed and shook his head.
“Y’all going to dinner Sunday night at mom & dad’s?” he asked.
Daisy groaned. “Do we have a choice?”
“No,” Dylan said, clearly enjoying it.
Daisy waved him off. “Go sweat. You’re ruining my lunch with your jock vibes.”
He laughed and turned to go, giving Ali one last glance over his shoulder and a wink before disappearing into the stream of students.
Ali let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.
Daisy sipped her Diet Coke. “Anywhooo, you ARE going to the party at the Tau Delt house Saturday night, right?”
Ali choked. “Uh no. I’m good but thanks for inviting me anyway.”
Daisy smirked. “Girl. You’re so cute. Making it a question was just to be nice. You are definitely coming with me.”
Ali looked away, stomach turning. She would rather just go to their dorm after the game & read or watch The Vampire Diaries for the 100th time.
She hated all the Greek Row parties. Ali didn’t fit in there, but she would go because Daisy wanted her there.
At least it wasn’t at the Trobes house this time.
She hated the jerks in Tau Rho Beta. And Dylan was in Tau Delta Epsilon, so at least she knew he would be there.