It took one day.

I knew better than to underestimate the ability of the gossip sharks at Cannondale to detect blood in the water, but the shamelessness of the gossiping itself caught me off guard. When I walked into the dining hall alongside Kelsey and Macallan, whispers seemed to follow our every move.

"They essentially excommunicated her."

"She totally flirted with Jameson or Trip. I called that ages ago."

"Or maybe she just failed tryouts...like for their clique."

"Lacrosse practice must be so awkward...and the draw circle for that matter."

They didn't use Gianna's name, but they didn't need to. And that was somehow worse.

The three of us had agreed to form a united and silent front about what happened with Gianna, à la the House of Windsor, so we didn't engage with anyone - at least not directly. Speaking out would only amplify the drama and the potential social consequences.

We might've been cliquey teenage girls, but we weren't hypocrites. Not today, at least.

I couldn't resist sending a few dagger-like glares to the people who dared to outwardly stare as we collected our dinner and settled into our usual booth.

"Who's she sitting with?" Macallan whispered. The chatter in the dining hall was loud enough that she could've spoken in a normal voice, but more eyes gravitated towards us tonight than they had since the release of the first survey. The stares made my skin prickle like I was getting a sunburn.

"The Model UN kids," Kelsey answered without looking around. "She's sitting next to Win, actually."

Our booth had a good view of the surrounding room and I'd positioned myself in the middle of the bench opposite Kelsey and Macallan. I directed my gaze between them and over to where I'd find the Model UN kids and their new rescue project.

Gianna Lash looked impeccable, a princess cut from marble. However, her impressive facade wasn't fooling the nosy masses, especially not when it was more fun for them to speculate over whether something dramatic had transpired...which it had.

The same anger and sense of betrayal that I'd felt the other day flared up inside me, and I couldn't look at her any longer. I turned my attention to the person seated next to her - Win Petrov.

Unlike Trip, Win seemed acutely aware of his ability to command the attention of a group and seemed to be keeping Gianna out of the limelight.

Suddenly, I couldn't look at him any longer either. For reasons I failed to comprehend, I felt a pang of possessiveness over Win. He was Macallan's campaign manager, not Gianna's knight in shining armor. And despite being the only outsider who knew, I hated that he was getting away with playing both sides. Macallan had even said that she didn't want to ice Win out of her campaign. He really was the linchpin.

"I'm glad she's not sitting alone," Macallan said. "I would've cried again."

The sadness in Macallan's voice snapped my attention back to our conversation. "We didn't tell her that she can't sit with us," I pointed out, as I twirled my spaghetti around my fork with more force than necessary. "We're not starring in Mean Girls."

"Well, we essentially implied as much," Kelsey said. "It's not like we needed to draft a contract and sign NDAs."

Her remark drew much needed smiles from me and Macallan. The last 24 hours had been absolutely miserable, and I wasn't optimistic about our circumstances improving any time soon.

I opted to not be in our room last night when Gianna told Macallan and Kelsey the truth, unable to stomach hearing it all again, but I returned to find Macallan in tears and Kelsey looking lost for words. It took some time and more shared tears for us to vocalize that we all believed that Gianna wasn't responsible for the surveys published on bostonspilledtea.com. There wasn't any proof, but we believed her.

But that still wasn't enough to forgive her.

✘ ✘ ✘

It was Wednesday afternoon when someone in my social orbit cornered me about Gianna. I was just about to follow Kelsey and Macallan out of the team room for practice when Delaney Xie stopped me.

"Chandler, let's chat for a minute before practice," she said and sent a tight smile to Kelsey and Macallan. ''Go ahead, we'll meet you at the turf.''

A less confident girl would've posed this request as a question, but that wasn't Delaney Xie. She created no illusions and her poise commanded obedience from everyone on the team.

"Let's," I agreed simply, and stayed put as Kelsey and Macallan departed.

They weren't the only ones on their way out. As most of my other teammates mobilized, I clocked the look Delaney exchanged with Shay, who then promptly called for the stragglers to haul their butts over to the turf field.

The look they shared put me on edge. It was the same kind of look that I'd given Kelsey and Macallan countless times. In that one look, they'd shared a silent and coherent conversation. It also signaled that Shay knew all about my impending chat with Delaney.

Delaney didn't speak until we were alone. "I'm sure you know the general direction that this conversation is about to take," she said without preamble. She was graduating soon and didn't have time to play games.

''Okay,'' I replied. I'd learned a long time ago to never answer more than what was asked.

"I wasn't going to insert myself into whatever is going on between the four of you, but Coach has noticed. She knows something is going on and has tasked me with resolving it."

"That makes sense."

The optimal strategy was to say the least amount possible without being short with her, but her stern expression informed me that I'd failed to effectively implement it.

''But before I do, there's something else that I want to clear up.'' Delaney took a measured breath and gave an equally measured exhale. ''Those surveys on the message board are degrading and offensive...but they're not entirely composed of lies. Yes, I'm the captain of this team, and yes, I'm going to Yale...but I still exist the shadow of you and Kelsey.''

''Delaney-''

''Let me finish, Chandler,'' her sharp tone prompted me to shut my mouth. Seemingly confident that I wouldn't interrupt again, she continued, ''Statistically speaking, you two are the most valuable players on the team and Coach Mayer will always see that side of you first because that's what lights up the scoreboard. She's seen you as leaders since you showed up at tryouts as Freshmen, which is why it will surprise absolutely no one when she names both of you as captains for next season.''

''I'm not supposed to know that yet, am I?'' I asked quietly. Captains weren't announced until the banquet at the end of the season.

''You're not,'' Delaney confirmed and leveled me with a pointed look. ''But I don't foresee you blabbing about it.''

I scoffed. ''You're right about that. I've got enough on my plate.''

"I've noticed." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Anyway, it's not enough to be the leading scorer or hold the record for the most draw controls in a season. Don't get me wrong, it's impressive and it's why I initially let that survey get under my skin, but you need to do more. You need to be role models, and I'm not just talking about the sophomores and freshmen. You need to be role models for the entire school."

I nodded. "We're one of the most successful programs at Cannondale. We have a reputation to uphold."

Delaney hummed and let my words hang in the air for a few moments. She was looking at me like she was trying to figure out if I meant what I said, which I did. I knew all about the importance of our reputation, and I had skin in the game.

"I'm going to speak to Kelsey and Macallan separately after practice today," Delaney finally said. Her words prompted me to tighten my grip on my lacrosse stick, and she noticed. "It's no secret that the three of you are best friends, but as the captain of this team, I need to ensure that we function as a team. We are all equally a part of it, and I won't tolerate any petty divisions. We have three days of practice before the quarterfinals and we need to play our best."

I bit down on my lip to prevent myself from informing Delaney that this wasn't a petty division and of course I would play my best on Friday. But as much as I wanted to verbalize those things, I understood my captain's perspective. Delaney was on her way to Yale and had a real shot at securing another championship title at Cannondale. She wasn't about to let a perceived squabble among four junior players compromise that.

"I understand," I stated evenly. "We're a team."

''Okay.'' Delaney turned away and picked up her goalie bag. She didn't elaborate until she opened the door and looked at me from over her shoulder. "I believe you, but you need to act like you believe it too. You can start right now at practice. Let's go."

✘ ✘ ✘

How I endured dinner at Formal Thursday was an existential question that I didn't have the willpower to mull over.

Despite having sat beside Win at the table, I didn't speak or even so much as make eye-contact with him.

I'd initially assumed this would become a contest of showing who could care less about the other's presence, but Win proved me wrong. He repeatedly tried to bait me into conversation, even mentioning how great Macallan's performance at the debate last Friday was, but I remained committed to my silence.

Kelsey and Macallan might've been able to overlook Win withholding information about Gianna, but I couldn't. He'd actively watched on as we solidified our friendship with her and allowed her to keep something so monumentally relevant from us. And if he could stay silent about that for months, I could stay silent for one hour at dinner.

But silence, of course, always came with a price. I just didn't expect Caroline Drake to be the one demanding that I pay my dues.

I registered Caroline's tedious presence behind me as I exited the dining hall. The pavement remained slick from the late afternoon rainstorm that I'd played through during practice. As I walked, I spotted Trip in his Duke windbreaker further up the walkway.

Before I could mobilize to catch up, Caroline called out my name. Her sharp voice cut through the thick humid air.

"What?" I barely cas a glance over my shoulder.

"The silent treatment you gave Win at dinner was an immature, bitch move."

I wheeled around, stunned. "Say that again."

"Oh cut the crap, Chandler," Caroline snapped and made a sweeping gesture at me. "This whole elusive, misunderstood cool girl act might work with the boys, but people like me see right through it."

I scoffed, though I remained locked in a state of disbelief. "And what is it that people like you see?"

"In this case, it's a pathetically shallow attempt to acquire attention."

Words evaded me for an exceedingly long moment. My brain seemed to be playing catch-up, having never anticipated Caroline speaking to me in such a way. Or anyone at Cannondale, for that matter.

But then it sorted itself out, and I felt an invisible armor fall over me. The familiar weight reassured me.

"I suspect this will come as a shock to you, but I have no interest in entertaining a conversation with you about this or anything else." I put a hand to my hip and popped it out. "Though, for the record, I didn't do it for attention or anything remotely similar. Now if you have any inkling of what's in your best interest, you'll leave me alone."

Caroline proved she had zero inking of what was in her best interest. "No, of course it wasn't your intention," she replied, her voice dripping with sickly sweet sarcasm. "Your self-absorbed brain just decided that making a point to Win needed to be done in front of an audience. You covet the spotlight, Chandler. Claiming it is second nature for you."

Our presence in front of the dining hall was the only factor preventing my patience from tearing like a wet paper towel. Students were still exiting the doors, and I knew I would procure an actual audience the second I snapped at her.

"Win's the one you should be talking to," I advised coolly. "He's the one who yapped at me incessantly like a russell terrier."

"And why wouldn't he?" Caroline scoffed out, folding her arms in front of her chest. "You're the ever elusive Chandler England, and he's still a teenage boy who falls for the most angelic face in the room."

If this was my version of hell on version, Caroline was enjoying the weather. But even though my face burned a thousand degrees, I would show no mercy.

"I'm not doing this." I let out a dry laugh. "I'm not going to stand here, listen to your arbitrary insults, and let you revel in this little pity party you're throwing for yourself. Shaming me isn't going to save your crush from being just that – a crush."

Caroline scoffed like I had claimed the earth was flat. "I'm not trying to shame you. What I am trying to do is point out your self-righteous attitude and how you assume that your way is the highway at Cannondale. I figured your head might be too far up your ass to notice that it isn't."

"I meant what I said," I seethed. "I'm not doing this, but I hope you know that whatever you're doing right now won't give you the validation you're after. Especially if you think you're standing up for a boy who's asked me to play nice around you."

Caroline's humorless laugh amplified the ringing in my ears. "God, you're actually so predictable. This isn't about some crush you think I have on your holier than thou lacrosse captain or Win Petrov." She paused, and eyed me with more disdain than I'd thought possible. "Those surveys aren't wrong about you, Chandler England, and I'm not sorry that the truth hurts."

My body moved on its own accord. I turned away from Caroline and walked away. I walked away and didn't turn back or stop for anything until I reached Trip's dorm.

It was evening hours so I wouldn't need to sneak around. I texted him that I was in the common room and endured the longest minute of my life as I waited for him to come retrieve me. I could've gone up to his room, but I didn't want to just show up at his door.

I didn't know what emotion had authored itself on my face, but it was enough for Trip to take one look and pull me into a hug. It was the kind that you melted into, and the sound of his heart beating through the soft cotton of his t-shirt was the most comforting noise in the world. With his arms around me, I decided right then and there that I'd tell him everything when we returned to his room.

I would tell Trip everything because he meant everything to me, and I didn't want to hold my hurt hostage or sugarcoat my hellish week. Not from him. Not anymore.