Pathhetickeeper

Megan was the kind of person who could make anyone laugh without trying. A natural class clown: effortless, warm, impossible to dislike. Teachers let things slide for her. Freshmen looked at her like she was untouchable. Even the janitors greeted her by name. She belonged everywhere.

The only thing people ever held against her was her friends.

She was a football prodigy, the best striker the school had ever seen, and talent like that came with an entourage. Jocks who mistook cruelty for confidence. Who thought being loud and mean was charming. Megan laughed along, even when it made her stomach twist.

Daniela existed on the opposite end of the spectrum.

She kept to herself and her two friends, always with a book tucked under her arm. President of the literature club. Top of every advanced class. She stayed out of petty drama, not because she was above it, just because it never seemed worth her time. She wasn’t popular, but she wasn’t bullied either. People simply… overlooked her.

And Daniela believed that meant no one saw her at all.

Megan did.

She had noticed Daniela years ago: how she spoke with quiet certainty, how her focus never wavered, how beautiful she was without trying. Megan never dared to talk to her. Daniela felt untouchable in a way Megan wasn’t. Too smart. Too composed. Way out of her league.

Megan assumed Daniela would lump her in with the rest of her friends. Stupid. Loud. Exactly the type of person she’d never respect.

Now it’s senior year, and suddenly everything feels temporary.

Soon they’ll graduate, scatter to different colleges, and whatever this almost-connection is will disappear without ever having existed. When the English department opens a new extracurricular—an exclusive literature program filled with reading circles, essays, and discussions—Megan knows Daniela will be there.

It’s a terrible idea.

Megan hates reading. Always has. Letters blur, words twist, paragraphs exhaust her. She’s dyslexic, something she’s learned to hide well enough that most people don’t notice.

Still.

If this is her last chance, she’s willing to risk looking stupid.