Hillview is an expansive high school with notable alumni, but the most notable being my mother. Our principle makes light of that every year, and every year I try to humbly dismiss this fact. I am not my mother.

The campus is buzzing with an eclectic energy as I spot Truth in the front of the school with an old basketball friend. He waves me over, piquing said friend's interest. I smile and nod, hugging Truth in the process, going on auto-pilot until Astrid appears. "Auto-pilot" being a loving girlfriend in a wonderful, blooming relationship with no contract tying us together.

"You two dating?" Truth's friend, Jerrod, asks.

Truth nods. "It's official." Yes, artificial, of course.

"Knew it." He sounds terribly proud. "Somebody said it was Astrid."

I smile. "I like that guess."

Truth chuckles. "No, I've liked Freya for a while now."

"You have?" I ask, turning my head to him, suddenly present in the conversation.

Jerrod shrugs. "People literally said you two were perfect for each other 'cause y'all are so close."

Well, I assumed people thought that much, but for Truth to add this weird bit of lore to our relationship is very shocking. But his ears are a bright red at the tips, so I can only assume he thinks he's fucked up.

I chuckle and squeeze his hand. "You didn't tell me you liked me before," I comment, searching his face for something like denial or dismissal. It's just for show. "But yeah," I look at Jerrod, "I've been getting a lot of that."

The conversation drags on for what feels like hours on end. It's as if they've run out of conversation yet refuse to part ways, but then the topic of basketball somehow gets brought up. Truth doesn't even play anymore, and I've decided I've had enough.

"I'm going to find Astrid," I whisper, leaving Truth's side before confirming he even heard me.

The truth is, I'm finding Mira.

If there is any reaction that I need to receive, it's hers.

As soon as I enter the school, though, I'm hit with not only a barrage of cool air but an attack of loud chatter about me. Not all of it sounds very positive, I must admit, but it's a part of the Hilton brand to sit still, look pretty, and take it on the chest. Especially when my looks, grades, friends, and style have been subjected to public scrutiny my entire life. You just have to take it all in.

From what I'm gathering, people believe this relationship will ruin my friendship with Hudson and Astrid. I lower my head to chuckle, locking eyes with familiar shoes in the midst of that.

Two black dress shoes lightly covered by navy slacks stop in front of me, and I look up to greet Hudson with a smile. He looks uninterested to me, but to many, he looks normal.

"Freya!" he greets, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and pulling me with him. By his smile and tone, I can tell he knows he's being watched. "I have a question," he whispers.

I nod. "Hey, Hudson." My cheeriness is discernible to the unknowing ear, but we are both walking on thin ice. "What is it?"

"Does mother Hilton know?"

I look around, finding ourselves in a dimly lit corner, only then realizing that behind him is the chorus door entrance. He managed to get us alone, and I respect that. Yet, his tone isn't filled with concern, but rather something quite challenging. It feels like a threat slipping from his lips, but his eyes show nothing of the sort.

I open my mouth, my brows furrowing as anger brews within me. "Why, no, she does not," I reply slowly, tilting my head and glaring at his clean shoes to his fresh line-up. "Why?" I spit, suddenly wondering if I should be declaring Hudson an enemy as well.

I'm met with a pretty view of his lashes as he looks down, his lips curving into a venomous smile, a sharp laugh exiting his lips. "I'm sure she'd prefer to hear the news from her daughter rather than social media."

I feel as though I'm being pulled from both ends of my being, stuck in frustration. I have no choice but to tell her soon, but Hudson knows why I hold my own hesitation behind that reveal.

"I'll tell her soon," I reply cheerily, not allowing him the knowledge that he has irked me. "Lunch?" I ask.

"Lunch."

-

There isn't much substance in the first four classes of the day. Even through the numerous ice-breakers, I've taken in nothing about my peers and possible prom opponents, but I've also given them nothing to work with. I've even neglected to reveal my true favorite color, burnt sienna, in favor of indigo. It feels like Freya, and sounds better than brown.

However, with my façade of fresh happiness is a picture of a disappointed mother in the back of my mind, gnawing away at my sanity. I can barely grasp onto the conversation in front of me, the sun blinding enough to pull me out of my thoughts.

"Mira's outfit is really cute," Astrid speaks, a fry hanging off of her lips.

This is what I come back to?

For lunch, we sit at the quad, the four of us smothered in the summer sun. It's noisy, but everybody to know eats here.

Hudson pretends like the tension doesn't exist, eating his food casually, eyes resting in true neutral, his laughs natural and unplanned, no malice behind them. I can't help the grimace my face gives away, the heat radiating from my person as I recall the conversation we had this morning. Does he think I'll let this slide?

"Freya?" It's Truth, his eyes widening as he scans my face. "Are you okay?"

I nod, unable to verbally reply at risk of revealing my anger.

"You sure?" Astrid asks. "You didn't even gag at Mira."

"It's just the heat. It's bothersome." It is hot, uncomfortably so, but that is not the source of my distress.

Astrid fans me with her hand, then stops to return to her fries. I smile and look around the quad, feeling a weird presence around me.

A boy with a hoodie and dark curls approaches us, the faint scent of cigarettes emanating off of his clothes. I recognize him vaguely, through passing and mutual friends, but his name...his name I can't quite remember.

"Marcelo?" Astrid asks, but by the look she gives me, she knows she's the only one who remembers. "Hi!"

"Astrid, hey." His voice is soft for its depth and the knowledge that he smokes, but Marcelo only talks to people for a total of three things: Parties, drugs, and advice. "I have a party this Saturday if y'all wanna come." See? Right as always.

I look throughout the group, garnering their reactions. It's not that I don't do stuff without them, I am just less inclined to. "Yeah, thanks for the invite."

He shrugs. "Anytime." He begins to walk away, already at Truth's side of the table, but he pauses. "Y'all are cute together." He doesn't look at either me or Truth, but we both thank him as he leaves.

There's a few moments of nothing, the lie about the heat bothering me rising to fruition. I guess Truth and Hudson can tell as I eat my fries with a smug look, my eyes avoiding theirs.

"Everybody likes us. Is that satisfactory?" Truth leans forward as he awaits my answer.

I squint off in the distance. Is it satisfactory? Amongst the entire student body, I have failed to receive an important reaction: Mira Ruiz. Everything revolves around her. She's the one I have to truly maintain; to control. The rest of them, my peers...they go with the masses. As long as most people like me, everybody likes me. They have no minds of their own.

However, the day is not over.

"It'll do, for now," I say, looking at him softly. "It's the first day and the only thing they've seen is us holding hands."

"Right. Without that post, you two still seem like friends. We need PDA. We need-"

"A kiss," I state quietly, looking over at Astrid as I finish her sentence.

I'm quite sullen to admit she's right, and aside from my mother, I've been thinking about that area of our partnership as well. Truth is my friend, and emotionally he is nothing more. However, I already anticipated this. It's in the contract, and I spent a few weeks of my summer ruminating on the idea of our lips touching. It never truly settled.

The boys are quiet, mysteriously so. I peer at them, but decide to dismiss their weirdness.

"Pucker up," Astrid jokes. "Seriously, though."

I make no move to show how I feel, but inwardly, I groan. I gag. I cringe at the thought of kissing Truth in an honestly romantic way.

In the past, I've flustered Truth on purpose with a kiss on the cheek or jokingly throw crude suggestions at him. It was our thing to playfully flirt, but as we got older I stopped doing it as much, and it's not a routine I'd like to return to.

"Are you nervous?" Hudson asks.

"Me?" I look at Truth's bright red ears, his own body somehow shrinking before me. "I think Truth is," I joke.

Suddenly, Hudson's face hardens. "Just admit it, Freya," but his voice is quick and stern.

I raise a brow. There he goes again. Whatever. "Wouldn't you be nervous to kiss any of us on the lips?"

"Not Astrid."

"What?" Astrid looks up from her phone, her head cocked to the side. "Why don't we, then?" I always find Astrid's approach to any situation quite interesting. That's why I'm glad to have her as a friend.

"Huh?" Hudson covers his mouth, and they both begin bickering with one another.

Truth bites his lips, reddening them with the action, making a clear effort not to tear the skin off. I feel the smile on my lips before I register it, and I chuckle as he taps his finger on the table. His dark hair tussles in the light breeze, his eyes squinting and lips twitching upward.

"Can I go to your house after school?" I practically whisper.

He looks up and nods eagerly, a smile squishing his eyes a bit. "Yeah, of course."

I smile, but he has no idea what I have planned. Astrid and Hudson are still chatting in my right ear yet, they feel so distant with Truth's weird gaze and slightly upturned lip.

"What?" I ask, looking around, feeling tired with this jovial persona I've promised myself.

"You seem different. It's interesting." Oh, fuck me.

"Well, the people wouldn't vote a bitch for prom queen," I mutter, looking away from him.

"So, you admit it? That you're a bitch?" It's Hudson, suddenly forfeiting his conversation with Astrid. I can see the excitement on his lips paired with the smug look in his dark brown eyes. I scour at him and all of his beauty.

"Why do you think I haven't cursed you out?" I scoff, eyes back to Truth. "I'm glad you're enjoying this. Somebody has to."

"It's impressive," Astrid compliments.

"I'm multifaceted."

"Or fake," Hudson says.

"Jesus, Hudson. Chill," Astrid defends. I hide my smile. Astrid isn't one to confront conflict, especially not on the behalf of others. "It's just prom queen."

"Exactly, so why is she doing all of-"

I squeeze my eyes shut and thank the heavens for allowing the bell to ring and save me from this terrible fucking lunch. The highlight was getting invited to Marcelo's party, but Hudson is becoming such a nuisance to be around that it doesn't matter. Truth said he'd handle it, so I sigh and wave goodbye, dragging my lips into a clean, perfect smile.

-

I end my school day as a TA for an art class. The students here are all freshmen who can't vote for prom queen. I'm sure some of them are juniors, maybe, which would be helpful. There are, however, no seniors.

The teacher, Mrs. Randolph, hands me a few papers to deliver to the front office, and after reprimanding the students for using acrylic after specifically stating to use watercolor, hands me a pass to do so. I wouldn't say Hillview is strict on people roaming the halls, but they are strict on me.

The walk from her class to the front office is considerably lengthy, and the staircases hollow out the sound of my boots hitting the floors. I sigh, my thoughts louder in my head. This partnership with Truth means nothing if the entire student body isn't enticed. Astrid's right. I need more. More drama, action, romance, attention. Hillview needs to know about Fruth or Treya, or, better yet, they decide for themselves. Somehow, I have to cement-

"Freya?"

I look up from the papers, my eyes dragging from a dark brown, flowy skirt up to a bit of midriff. It fits her so well at the waist. Then the olive green crop top with a deep V-neck, cleavage adorned with a gemstone necklace. It all flows so well, so beautifully accenting her curves. I bite my inner cheek as I meet her big brown eyes, luscious lashes fanning out from them.

"Mira." I don't mean for it to sound breathless and enamored. Those are two things I am not. I'm rather disappointed and...envious, but enamored? Oh, please.

I can't quite read the expression on her face as she looks at me from my leather thigh-highs to my dark-brown braids. I feel almost defeated.

"I never imagined you with Truth. Hudson, maybe." She doesn't break eye contact with me. "I take it this is a new thing?"

Hudson over Truth? I blink, biting my laugh away. Perfect girlfriend. I sheepishly look down. "We...recently revealed our feelings for one another. Hudson, though...that's interesting." I peer up at her through my lashes.

"I'm sure others agree." She looks me up and down again. "I thought you two would be better because you're both so mean," she chuckles.

"Oh-"

"But it might be a race thing for others." She rolls her eyes.

"Definitely the latter." I glower, tucking the papers under my arm to openly cross them. "Hudson and I aren't mean."

Mira smiles, her tawny skin nearly glowing with the action. "I'm sure you think that." She sneers, eyes closing a bit. "Congrats, regardless. Truth's handsome and maybe even good for you."

She walks past me and I only continue walking to hide how stunned I am. I touch my ear, feeling the heat stinging it. I'm pissed and reasonably so. How dare she? What is she even trying to insinuate? I am Freya Dalia Hilton. Nobody talks to me with that kind of disrespect.

Ugh.

It feels absolutely devastating to be walked all over in a conversation I waited all day to have. That little bitch thinks she can just talk to me like that. Things have changed. I know who I am. I'm confident. I'm pretty, smart, and I will win prom queen.

I don't even recognize the speed I've been walking at until I've already made it back up the steps to the classroom, furrowing my brows as I feel myself entering my seat before knowing it. I let my eyes close for just a second, envisioning myself in that crown, a smile on my face, and a frown on Mira's.

Oh, it feels so good.