I'm rushing down a hallway that's lined with a million doors.

They loom over me as I run past, desperate to get to who knows where. Menacing whispers claw their way from under the doors, urging me to go faster, keep pushing, or else.

They never say or else what.

My feet keep flying forward, trying and failing to reach the unknown goal, but with every step I take, the hall stretches another ten feet. My heart pounds against my chest as I realize this might be never ending.

"Figure it out!" The shout echoes, disorienting me even more.

In the distance, there's a final door, different from the others. A light flickers from behind it, pulsing erratically. It seems to get weaker with every passing second. With new conviction, I pump my legs harder, but it feels like I'm moving through water.

"Figure it out!" This time, I recognize the voice. He's in here somewhere, calling out in pain.

He needs me.

"Mark, where are you?" I scream down the hall, but the doors mock me as they bounce in my peripheral. I tunnel my vision until I can only see that door. The one where Mark must be.

"I'm not here!" His voice is like a key cutting deep into a chalkboard, so high pitched I can barely make it out.

"What?" I scream, desperate for him to repeat it, but now the hallway is shaking as reality rips apart at the seams.

"I'm not—"

"We're here!"

Chloe's voice is a bucket of ice water sloshing down my back. I peel my cheek off the car window, delirious. Squeezing my eyes shut against the light from outside, I grasp to hold onto details of the dream. Something about it felt off, just like yesterday. What's weirder, I don't even remember falling asleep.

"God, why must every year be like this," Chloe complains, honking at the cars clogging up the senior lot. "Does everyone forget how to park over the summer?"

I sit back against my seat, defeated. Her ramblings drive any memory of it from my mind. I'm only left with a lingering feeling of terror — just what one wants on the first day of school.

"I knew I should've packed you a coffee," Chloe continues as she backs into a space further away from the entrance. "You literally slept the whole way here. We're supposed to be getting hyped for our last year in this shit hole."

"Damn, I'm sorry, Chlo." I leave out the part about not consenting to said nap and rub the exhaustion from my eyes. "I just got shit sleep last night."

She shuts the car off but doesn't move to get out. Throwing her thick, black hair up into a last minute ponytail, Chloe swivels until she's facing me straight on. "Because of the fight with your mom?"

I scoff. "Like that's anything new."

"Worrying about Mark, then? You were muttering his name in your sleep."

"I always worry about him." But it's been different over the last few weeks, and it's clear Chloe's picking up on it. "He just feels distant lately."

Her eyes are on me, but my gaze stays pointedly out the window. In the distance, I spot a head of familiar blonde waves rushing up the front steps with the rest of the soccer team.

"Mark isn't Carter, Am, you know that," Chloe says softly, reaching over to squeeze my arm. "Things will feel normal again once we're back in the rigorous routine of procrastinating homework and popping Adderall to catch up. You'll see."

I roll my eyes, but it gets a grin out of me anyway. She's mostly kidding about the Adderall — we only resorted to that once.

We hop out of the car and cross the lot, then melt into the swarm of students heading up the school's front steps. Over the sea of people, I spot Mark's mop of brown hair and relax when he waves us over. With Chloe's words of assurance still ringing in my ears, I let her lead the way; her height is a great tool to cut through the crowds.

"Is it just me, or are there more people this year?" Mark asks as he falls in line with us.

"It's just you," Chloe and I say in unison. New kids in town are few and far between, Chloe being the last one five years ago. That being said, I see his point. With the school as small as it is, the halls congest easily. I have to elbow people out of my way more than once to keep up with Chloe and Mark's long strides.

Just as we make a beeline for the lockers, someone slips between Mark and me.

"Amber, my favorite customer. Mind if I steal your boyfriend real quick?"

I'm surprised to find Darren peering down at me, his arm slung around Mark's shoulders. He plasters on a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, but that's normal for Darren. I'm pretty sure the boy doesn't have an authentic bone in his body.

I ignore the boyfriend comment completely— he only says it to bug the shit out of both of us. Instead, I try to shoulder him back behind Mark. "I highly doubt there's anything he wants to talk to you about, so no."

"I dunno, I'm pretty sure he wants to hear what I have to say, but if he'd rather talk about it with an audience, then—"

"I'm coming," Mark says abruptly, his shoulders tense. He avoids looking at me when he pulls ahead with Darren.

I stare at their backs, bewildered. "Mark, what the fu—"

"Just save me a seat at the assembly." He doesn't leave room for more questions. Darren shoots me a last arrogant smile before pulling Mark over to a set of lockers at the other end of the hall.

"Umm, what the hell was that?" Chloe asks, voicing my thoughts perfectly.

"I don't know." Alarm bells are going off in my head. The only time any of us talk to Darren is to cop an eighth, but no way Mark's buying right here in the halls. "But you better believe we're gonna find out."

We barely make it three steps before Vice-Principal Lassetter blocks our way. I groan internally, well aware of what's coming.

"Fingertip test," he says shortly, attention set on me. His thin mustache twitches impatiently, and I have to force myself to meet his beady black eyes.

"Little early in the semester for a test, don't you think?" I try, though I know it's a hopeless effort. He doesn't even crack a smile.

I sigh and let my hands fall to my sides, just to humor him. I already know where my fingertips land, and it's way past the cuffs of my favorite denim shorts. Despite my better judgment, I wanted to look nice for the first day of school. I tried my best to stay within dress code; I even three a jacket over my yellow top so I wouldn't get in trouble for the spaghetti straps. But in the end, the shorts were a deal-breaker. At least I'm a woman who sticks to her convictions.

I make this point to Lassetter. He gives me a detention slip all the same.

"Ok, what kinda bad karma did you pick up this morning?" Chloe jokes as soon as he's out of earshot. "There's some weird Twilight Zone shit going on right now, and I'm not a fan."

"You're not alone," I grumble. When I look again, both Darren and Mark are gone.

Chloe hooks her arm through mine as we head to our own lockers. "He'll find us in the auditorium, then we can all nap through the assembly together."

I shiver at the thought; the last thing I want right now is a nap.

We switch out our books just before the bell sounds. Chloe catches me up on team drama as we follow the crowd heading towards the auditorium, but I'm barely listening. All my focus is on scanning the halls for Mark. But instead of brunette, a flurry of blonde hair rushes up to us in line and pecks Chloe on the cheek.

"Happy first day," Jane says with a soft smile.

Chloe doesn't return it. "Oh, so we're publicly displaying our affection now?"

Jane's smile drops. She sighs heavily, "Don't start, Chlo, ok? I'm already nervous enough. Can you just tell me if I look alright?"

She straightens her "Class President" pin and brushes nonexistent lint off her khaki skirt. Her cap-sleeved shirt is free of wrinkles, and her Mary-Jane's don't have a scratch on them. A plaid headband pulls the hair away from her face, showcasing a smattering of freckles across her nose.

"Very presidential," Chloe says. She's not wrong — I'm just not sure she meant it as a compliment.

Jane takes it as one anyway and gives her a genuine smile. "Wish me luck!"

"Luck," Chloe says halfheartedly. She leans in to kiss her goodbye, but Jane turns so it hits her cheek.

"Just trying to stay professional," she offers lamely when Chloe sucks her teeth. Jane flounces off before they can get into it, which is probably for the best. When Chloe fights with her girlfriend, things can get ugly — and fast.

"Sometimes I think she forgets we're both out," Chloe says with an agitated edge. "Like, I didn't make up sophomore year, did I?"

"Nah, I remember," I reassure her as we shuffle along in line. "Threw you guys a party and everything." At her house, of course — Mom would never let me throw one in a million years.

"And it was a good party, too. God, why does she always have to make things so— shit, hide me!"

We're barely through the double doors when Chloe pulls us aside and ducks behind me. I search our surroundings for what's freaking her out, then land on Carter leaning against one of the railings. He towers over a dark-skinned girl in a cheer uniform, her straight hair nearly down to her ass. I know it's Tori, even from behind. Going to school in rural Pennsylvania means the student body isn't that diverse. In our class alone, there are only six Black kids, myself and Tori included. Ironically, Mark is the only Native American student at Susquehanna High.

Carter leans down and whispers something in Tori's ear, sending her into a fit of giggles. His gaze shifts abruptly over her shoulder and onto me. I drop my attention back to Chloe just as fast.

"You mean Tori?" I ask, perplexed. I try turning around, but Chloe shifts my shoulders forward again.

"Do you think she saw me?" she whispers as if she'll be heard over the full auditorium.

When I look back, I'm met with a very confused Carter and a very angry Tori. "I'm thinking yes."

Forgetting Carter altogether, Tori storms over to us.

"Chloe," she seethes, trying her best to see over my shoulder.

"Am-ber." I say it slowly and point to myself for emphasis.

Tori spares me a glare before yanking Chloe from her hiding spot. "Why aren't you in uniform? Did I not specifically say wear your uniform in last night's email?"

"I love to break it to you, but no one on the squad reads those things," Chloe says with a smirk. "I was thinking I'd sit out the school cheer this year."

"You're assistant captain," Tori grits out.

"Not by choice."

"I don't have time for this. You'll have to use a spare." Tori grabs Chloe's hand and starts dragging her out the door. "Locker room. Now."

"With pleasure." Chloe shoots me a final eye roll before they disappear back down the hall.

"Some friend you are, letting Tori kidnap her like that," a deep voice says behind me.

I turn towards the steps and come face to chest with Carter. His cologne is overpowering, and I have to work to stay clear-minded. Rule number one when talking to Carter Hayes — never let my guard down.

"I think she can handle Tori just fine, something I'm sure you two have in common." I walk past him and take the stairs leading up to the senior section. I silently hope he won't follow.

"I wouldn't be too sure. Tori can get pretty crazy sometimes." His body is so close that I can feel the heat radiating through his faded T-shirt. He's only a step behind me; I pick up my pace and increase the distance by two.

"Spare me the details of your bedroom escapades. They're the last thing I want to hear about." It's not a lie. The idea of Tori and Carter together makes my skin crawl for reasons I'd never admit.

I hear him snort behind me. "She's hardly my type."

"Yeah?" I spin on him so fast I barely register my next words. "Is anyone?"

Girl, what the fuck? I mentally scold myself. I've got no clue where it came from, and Carter seems just as surprised. He levels me with a look I can't read, but it makes my pulse spike all the same. We're the only two people still standing at this point, but I'm too caught up in his eyes to move.

"Alright, everyone settle down, settle down." Principle Chavez's voice cuts in over the microphone. "We're gonna get things started, so I need everyone to sit down and conversations to end."

It's enough to break the moment between us. Carter brushes past me without answering. He climbs up a few rows and takes a seat next to his best friend, Tanner. Aiden and Clay flock either side of them, finishing off his inner circle — positions previously held by Mark and me.

I swallow my humiliation and grab the first seat I can find. By some stroke of luck, I snag two together; by a stroke of misfortune, they're in the row before Carter's. I can feel his eyes on me as I shift in my seat, but I refuse to turn around.

Instead, I resume my efforts to find Mark. A few people are still trickling in as the auditorium lights begin to dim. I spot Tori and Chloe sprinting back from the locker room to sit with the squad near the stage. From here I can tell Chloe's shirt is on backward; I'm surprised Tori didn't notice and scream at her to fix it.

Just as I'm about to give up hope, I spot Mark shuffling into the assembly. Determined to prove that everything is normal, I raise my hand to catch his attention. When he notices, his face splits into a smile. My shoulders relax further as I watch him pick his way up the stairs without any sign of the earlier weirdness.

They tense up again when someone else falls into the chair next to me.

"Hope this seat's not taken." Tyler Hampton leans over and pecks me on the cheek. I will myself not to wipe it away — or hit him.

"Actually, it is. Feel free to leave now."

But it's too late. Before I can convince Tyler to move, a teacher intervenes and ushers Mark towards a vacant spot near the front of the section. Throwing me a regretful look, he takes it, leaving me to my own devices with Tyler.

"So, last week was fun," he whispers as Principle Chavez kicks off her beginning of the year speech. She doesn't change it much between each year, so it's an easy segment to tune out.

"Well, don't get any ideas from it. Sleeping together once doesn't mean we have to do it again."

"Oh babe, don't pretend that you can resist all this," he replies, gesturing to his lanky body. "You couldn't get enough of me that night."

Tyler and I hooked up at a party Cameron Davidson had last Saturday. It was dark in the basement and I was high enough to convince myself Tyler wasn't that terrible. I regretted it instantly, something that's only grown with his constant pestering. The kid just won't leave me alone.

It's not that he's bad looking. With light brown eyes, a slender nose, and a lopsided smile, he's actually pretty cute — until he opens his mouth. Tyler notoriously never shuts up and is overall a douche. Whether he's bragging about his latest cross country meet or how great his "band" is, he's always talking. And now, all that talking is directed at me.

"Trust me, my body would be very ok without you inside it ever again. Now please, I am trying to absorb the wise words of our president."

I stare pointedly at the stage where Jane is giving her rehearsed speech. If she's nervous, it doesn't show; looks like Chloe's "pep talk" worked. Jane's the picture of poise as she lays out her plans for the year.

Of course, Tyler's not quick to catch a hint. He leans in closer until I have to shrink away from the armrest to avoid touching him. "We both know that's a lie. C'mon, don't be a tease, just admit you've been thinking about me."

"Ok, now you're pissing me off," I say bluntly, no longer bothering to whisper. "Need me to spell it out for you? I'm not interested."

People in the row ahead turn and shoot us strange looks, but that doesn't stop Tyler from grabbing my wrist to pull me closer. There's movement from somewhere behind me, but I'm too focused on the pain from his grip to give it much thought.

"Stop trying to act like nothing happened between us. God, who knew you were such a—"

Someone's hand shoots down from above and rips Tyler off me. I swivel in my seat and find Carter, his temper barely controlled. He's physically shaking with restraint, and I spot Tanner's hand tighten on his shoulder. I haven't seen him this angry in years; based on Carter's previous track record, Tyler should definitely keep his mouth shut.

"Leave her alone." Carter's voice is dangerously low, sending shivers down my spine.

Tyler leans over the back of his chair. "What did you just say to me?"

"You heard me fine. Keep your hands off her."

Tyler jumps to his feet, drawing even more attention to us. A few teachers near the base of the stairs notice the commotion and make their way towards our row. Considering how fast this has escalated already, I doubt they'll reach us in time.

"Thing is, Hayes, it's a little too late for that," Tyler gives my body a once over before flashing Carter a malicious grin, "I've touched her in ways I'm sure you've only dreamed about. Kissed her. Tasted her. Heard the way she gasps just before she—"

The sound of Carter's fist colliding with Tyler's nose cracks through the auditorium, diverting all attention away from the stage. The whole student body roars to life as Tyler comes back at him, swinging wildly in an attempt to land a blow. He practically jumps over our row, but Carter's ready for him. He swerves out of the way before hooking his arm around to catch Tyler in the jaw. I scramble back just as Carter jumps down from his seat and knocks Tyler to the ground. His fists are a blur as he hits him across the face, his eyes murderous. Teachers shout for students to clear the aisles so they can reach the fight. One of them squeezes past me and grabs Carter from behind, yanking him off of Tyler. On the other side, Mr. Lassetter drags Tyler away to safety.

"Hampton! Hayes! My office! Now," Principle Chavez shouts as she climbs down from the stage. She looks about ready to hit them herself.

Tyler spits blood at Carter's feet before following Lassetter out. Carter keeps his gaze down when he passes and doesn't say a word, leaving me standing by myself.

Every eye in the room is on me. I'm sure they don't know what started the fight, but they've surely gathered who it was about. I sink down in my chair as far as possible, but I can still feel the weight of their gazes. Mark's is the only one I meet, but from this distance, his expression is unreadable.

A tap on the microphone draws everyone back to the stage. Sometime during the build up to the fight, the cheerleaders took the stage. They're all in different positions, making it clear that they already began the routine. Tori stands near the podium, her hands planted firmly on her hips.

She leans into the microphone, an annoyed edge to her voice. "Does this mean we have to start over?"