The Halo Effect

08 | bravado

There would be no change of heart.

No part of me was allowed to regret accepting Grayson's invitation to be his date to Winter Formal. Wallowing in self-pity wouldn't reverse my decision, and it definitely wouldn't spare me from the attention that I was already receiving.

I'd entered the dining hall with my head held high and shoulders rolled back, ignoring the intrigued glances flicking in my direction. Only two hours had passed since I'd left the turf, but that was more than enough time for the news to spread at Cannondale. The spotlight that had found me on the turf wouldn't vanish anytime soon. Even at a table with two devout band kids, a self-proclaimed mathlete, and an uppity blonde from the Cannondale Weekly, I still felt it shining down on me.

Our table maintained a steady stream of chatter throughout dinner, mostly about standardized tests. All juniors at Cannondale were required to attend either the school's ACT or SAT prep sessions on Saturday mornings until their guidance counselor and parental guardians signed off on their score.

I was sitting for my third ACT in April, aiming to crack a 30 on the Math test so that my overall score would at least be a 31. I'd discovered early on that math on standardized tests wasn't my strong suit. It didn't matter that I was a stellar student in AP Calculus because when it came to completing 60 questions in an hour, my advanced mathematical skills weren't enough to earn me my desired score. As much as it pained me to admit it, I simply couldn't solve the problems that fast.

I mindlessly twirled spaghetti around my fork, my appetite nonexistent as my thoughts drowned out the conversation. I could almost hear Mom chastising me for playing with my food, reminding me that it wasn't at all ladylike. The thought prompted an eye roll.

"That picture on Instagram of you and Grayson is super cute."

Caroline Drake's voice extracted me out of my thoughts, and I glanced up. She sat directly across from me, winding a curl of honey blonde hair around one finger. She'd failed to properly blend out her bronzer, making her neck distinctly lighter than her face.

The band kids - Caleb and Fiona - ceased their discussion on why the Ivy League shouldn't require standardized tests, and turned my way. Matteo the mathlete stopped sawing the disturbingly large meatballs on his plate.

I engineered a smile. "Aw, thank you."

I hadn't actually seen the photo that Grayson posted on his Instagram story, deliberately avoiding my account. Seeing a thread of comments fawning over how objectively good we looked together would only serve to echo what I didn't want to hear. Gianna had assured me that my wavy ponytail looked amazing, so at least I had that going for me.

"It must've been nice to have options," Caroline said, voicing what everyone could only assume. Her voice was light, but it had a funny yet familiar edge to it. I'd learned what envy sounded like a long time ago. She wasn't the first girl to smile to my face while manifesting my downfall, and she wouldn't be the last.

I offered her an impassive shrug. "Didn't make a difference in the end. I can only have one date."

While Fiona giggled, finding my remark a little too entertaining, Caroline's cheeks flushed pink. I felt my lips twitch with satisfaction, knowing I'd subtly put her in her place. I wasn't vain enough to believe that she wanted to be me. Here was my theory: there was a part of Caroline - and too many other girls at Cannondale - that desperately wanted to be my friend, and she hated that.

At the table adjacent to mine, Macallan caught my eye and sent a sympathetic smile my way. As she'd predicted, her chicken Caesar wrap was a massacre on her plate. When we'd returned to our dorm room after the captain's practice, she'd hugged me and called Grayson a crafty asshole. I'd cracked a smile because she wasn't wrong. My friends understood the social implications I could've faced by turning down Grayson and why I did what I felt like I had to do.