Summary: Wally never expected for fall for a living student- until the day he heard Ellie say his name. He found himself watching her more and more. Lingering in the music room as she played piano, looking for her in the halls, wishing he could talk to her. But no matter how much he liked her, he knew they would never meet. Unless…
Warnings: 18+ only, mentions of death/suicide of a loved one, emotional abuse, mentions of sex, sexual assault, drugs, canon divergence, eventually maybe smut?
Disclaimer: I do not own rights to any character, setting or plot designed by the creators of School Spirits.
ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE | SIX | SEVEN | EIGHT | NINE | TEN | ELEVEN | TWELVE | THIRTEEN | FOURTEEN | FIFTEEN
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“You don’t owe her anything Wally.” You sighed in irritation as you pulled your hair into a high ponytail while your anxious boyfriend sat on the bed behind you picking at his nails.
“You don’t get it-“ he groaned as he put his head in his hands before laying back on the purple duvet.
A mixture of concern and annoyance flashed over your features as you carefully straddled him, carefully to ensure you didn’t irritate his leg further.
“Your parents need to understand you are more than just a quarterback.” She said as she ran her hands over his slight stubble, him leaning into her touch momentarily
“You don’t get it. This is it. My one shot to make them proud- if I ruin that.. They’ll ignore me more than they already do.” He said as she ran her fingers through his hair in comfort. Her proximity enough to soothe any anxiety he may have
You two were the high school sweet heart cliche, going on your third year of unending puppy love, planning a future for long after graduation. You wished you’d known that future wasn’t so long.
“You can’t play tonight, you know that Wally.” You pressed as you got off of his lap, the irritation feeling your stomach at the thought of him hurting himself over some stupid desire to make his mom proud.
“It’s not like I have ever had the choice.” He said finally as he avoided your eyes and ducked around you towards your front door.
“I’ll see you tonight?” He said cheekily, easily melting away your annoyed mood as you could never truly get angry with him.
“I guess we’ll see if you’re lucky enough.” You teased as you pressed a kiss to his cheek laughing
“Babe. I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” He said as he sealed the space between you with a soft kiss. Little did he know just how wrong he would be.
Summary: Wally never expected for fall for a living student- until the day he heard Ellie say his name.
Warnings: Mentions of death/suicide, mentions of abuse, extreme canon divergence.
Word Count: 972
Disclaimer: I do not own rights to any character, setting or plot designed by the creators of School Spirits.
Author's Note: Each chapter is named after a song. For continuing parts, the chapter number will be in parenthesis!
MASTERLIST
Wally Clark has always been a lovable, golden retriever type of guy- warm, charming and effortlessly bright. He carries laughter in his pocket and wears his heart on his sleeve, always ready with a grin that could melt even the coldest of hearts. His charm isn't a facade, it's woven into the way he speaks, the way he listens, the way he makes the people around him feel like they mean something. There's a subtle depth beneath his easygoing nature, a tenderness in the way he loves- with unshakable loyalty, unwavering devotion, and a sincerity that lingers like the last notes of a favorite song. He's the kind of person who instinctively puts others before himself, even without realizing it. He doesn't ask for much in return- he's content just knowing the people he loves are okay. If it means sacrificing his time, his comfort, or even his own feelings, he won't hesitate. It's not a conscious effort, it's just who he is. He's the kind of boy who turns ordinary moments into something magical, who makes your world feel a little lighter just by being in it.
Ellie is the kind of girl who feels like the soft melody of a piano drifting through an open window- gentle, graceful, and full of unspoken emotion. She carries a quiet strength, the kind that doesn't demand attention but holds steady when the world tries to break her. Sweet and forgiving, she has a heart that loves deeply, even when it shouldn't, even when it hurts her. There's a certain innocence to her, a romantic longing for love that feels like the stories she loses herself in, but life has not been kind to her hopes and dreams. She's an upbeat cheerleader with a bright smile and delicate presence, but beneath that carefully crafted image, she's a girl who knows loneliness all too well. She struggles to say no, to put herself first, to see her own value- but she's more resilient than she realizes. She's soft, but she is not weak. She is light, even when surrounded by darkness. And when she loves, she loves with everything she has.
_ _ _
Wally wasn't paying much attention as he cut through the cafeteria, his mind half on Mr. Martin's support group and half on nothing at all. The hum of voices, the clatter of trays, the shuffle of footsteps- just another ordinary day in a place where nothing ever changed. And then, in the midst of all the noise, he heard his name.
It was soft, almost uncertain, but it caught on his ear like a thread he couldn't ignore. He slowed, gaze flicking toward the source, and then he saw her. She was sitting at a table with a group of girls, hair falling over one shoulder as she leaned in slightly, speaking in soft tones.Her lightly tan skin seemed to glow softly in the sun, a golden warmth that only brought out her deep blue eyes, a shade so rich they resembled the sea before a storm. Strands of dark brown hair cascaded down her back, catching rays of light in soft, silky ribbons. Her head was tilted slightly, dark brows knitted together in gentle curiosity. There was something delicate about her, not in a way that made her seem breakable, but in the way certain songs feel too beautiful to talk over. She couldn't have known he was there, she shouldn't have known who he was, but for some reason, he couldn't look away.
She said his name.
Why?
He didn't know her, he was sure of that. How could he have never noticed her before? Something about the way she said his name made his chest tighten-like it meant something. Like she already knew him in a way neither of them understood yet. And as he studied this petite brunette, the rest of the world faded.
- - -
"Are you excited for your first homecoming game here?" An unnamed blonde girl asked somebody.
"Yeah, it should be fun," Ellie replied, surrounded by a flock of royal blue Barbie dolls. "I wasn't really able to participate much at my last school."
"Couldn't be me, this week is always lit. The game, the dance, all the traditions," The blonde answered while applying a provocative shade of lipstick.
"Oh my God, do you think that woman will be there again?" A thin girl sprouting auburn hair questioned in a judgmental tone.
"What woman?" Ellie asked.
"The stadium's named after her kid. He died like a hundred years ago at a homecoming game," The blonde girl replied while staring at herself in her phone camera.
"Wally Clark?"
———
For most of Ellie's life, she was the overlooked girl- never quite fitting in at her old schools, and never comfortable with extracurricular actives. Her closest anchor was her father, who shared her love for music; together, they'd spend hours playing the piano, a tender bond that was shattered when he committed suicide when Ellie was just eleven years old.
Less than a year later, her mother Sharon remarried, and Ellie found herself forced to leave everything familiar behind as she moved schools for the first time. Sharon's restless nature- constantly chasing after the next infatuation- meant that Ellie never had the chance to build lasting friendships or a stable sense of home. Now, at Split River High for just a few weeks, she had unexpectedly captured the attention of her peers, especially the cheerleaders, finding herself in a vulnerable spotlight unlike her usual place in society.
Beneath her newfound popularity lies a shadow that continues to affect her daily life. Her latest stepfather, Malcolm- a wealthy entrepreneur in his 50's, casts a long, uncomfortable presence over her. His emotionally abusive behavior and inappropriate remarks only deepen the isolation Ellie feels, igniting her instinctual need to find safe haven.
Summary: Ellie has a surprising encounter. Wally comes to a realization.
Warnings: 18+ only, mentions of death/suicide of a loved one, emotional abuse, mentions of sex, sexual assault, drugs, canon divergence, eventually maybe smut?
Word Count: 1019
Disclaimer: I do not own rights to any character, setting or plot designed by the creators of School Spirits.
Author's Note: None
MASTERLIST
Nathan was the kind of guy who peaked in high school. He walked through the halls like he owned them- boisterous, confident and always surrounded by a crowd. He had an effortless charm that made girls overlook his arrogance, but there was an unsettling edge to him if you paid close enough attention. He thrived on being adored, and when things didn't go his way, his temper flared. On the field, he channeled his aggression into the game, but off the field, it simmered just beneath the surface, waiting for the most opportune moment to explode. His romantic history is as volatile as his personality. His relationships rarely last more than a few weeks- fleeting encounters that serve his insatiable need for validation and power. He always gets what- or who he wants, until eventually, he doesn't. And that's when it got dangerous. Each new conquest is temporary, a way to bolster his already inflated ego before he discards them without a second thought. His charm and popularity make it easy for him to lure in admirers, but once he's got them wrapped around his finger, he's quick to manipulate their emotions. Whether through subtle pressure or overt displays of dominance, he ensures that his partners bend to his will- only to be left feeling used and devalued as soon as the novelty wears off.
_ _ _
Near the softly humming coffee machine in the cafeteria, Wally strolled casually until his attention was drawn by the hushed mention of Ellie's name.
"Just trust me. Ellie won't do it," Chloe murmured quietly, her voice laced with disdain, blended with the muted clatter of cups and footsteps.
His chest tightened in a rush of uncomfortable curiosity. She won't do what?
"How do you know that?" Nathan asked in a low, confident tone.
"Because she's a total prude. She's never even had sex," Chloe whispered mockingly.
The words hit Wally like a fist to the gut. He felt it- an angry, protective surge as the pieces of the conversation fell into place. But it was Nathan's response that froze him in place.
"Yeah and if you remember, I can be rather persuasive. Give me a week and I'll have her on her back."
Was this the same guy mentioned in Ellie's text messages? The one that's supposed to ask her out? A wave of disgust washed over Wally. His insides burned with anguish, but his fury was useless. He couldn't warn Ellie. He couldn't protect her from Nathan's vile words or the dangerous path ahead. He knew she wasn't just some 'prude', that she was kind, gentle and more than deserving of respect. But he couldn't *do* anything. His heart screamed, wishing to intervene, to stop Nathan from using Ellie in a way she didn't deserve. All he could do was watch, listen, and feel- burdened by the silent knowledge that he was utterly powerless to change the course of events unfolding before him.
_ _ _
The soft light of the late afternoon filtered through the dusty windows of the music room, casting long shadows across the polished wooden floors. It's quiet- eerily so- as Wally leans against the edge of the piano, idly tapping his fingers on the lid. He's been waiting, though he isn't sure why. Maybe it's boredom. Maybe it's curiosity. The air feels heavy, still holding onto the silence like an unfinished song.
The door creaks open.
Ellie steps in, clutching her books a little too tightly against her chest. There's a certain weight in her expression- her usually bright eyes clouded with something softer, sadder. Wally straightens up, watching her, his curiosity instantly piqued.
"Hey, you alright?" he asked instinctively, forgetting, for a beat, that she can't hear him.
No response.
She walks right past him, her sneakers barely making a sound on the floor, and sinks down onto the piano bench, straightening her back. Her fingers hover over the keys, trembling slightly before they press down, releasing the first gentle notes of a hauntingly sad melody. It's soft at first, her touch delicate, but then it grows, the emotion bleeding into every chord.
And then, she started singing.
Her voice was raw- achingly beautiful- filled with so much pain that it lingers in the room like smoke. Wally's breath catches. There's something about the way she pours herself into the music, so vulnerable yet so strong, that it makes his chest tighten unexpectedly. He finds himself leaning in, drawn to her in a way he hadn't felt in... well, ever.
His breath hitches. "You're... something else," he murmurs, his voice soft, almost reverent.
But then- BANG, BANG, BANG!
The sudden, heavy knock on the music room door jolts the moment apart. Ellie's fingers fumble on the keys, the melody shattering into silence.
"Ellie? You in here?" Nathan's voice, cocky and impatient, cuts through the air.
Wally groans. "Oh, come on. This guy?"
Ellie practically leaps off the bench, smoothing her uniform skirt and brushing stray hair out of her face, the earlier sadness momentarily forgotten. She hurries to the door, yanking it open.
Nathan leans against the frame, all smug confidence and lazy charm. "There you are. I was lookin' for you. So... Friday night, you and me. What do you say?"
Ellie's eyes widen. "Seriously? Yeah- yeah, of course!" Her voice lifts with excitement, cheeks flushed.
Wally throws his hands up in disbelief. "No, no, no! Bad Idea! He's the worst! Don't say yes!" He waves his arms, stepping right in front of her, as if that would somehow make a difference. "Ellie, he's only asking you out 'cause he wants to sleep with you!"
She grins, completely oblivious to the frantic ghost begging her to reconsider.
"Great, I'll pick you up at seven," Nathan smirks before turning away.
Ellie stands there for a moment, a soft smile lingering on her face.
Wally groans again, dropping his head into his hands. "Unbelievable. She has no idea."
His gaze lingers on her, something softer flickering in his eyes- a realization he's not quite ready to admit.
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Summary: Ellie goes on a date, but it's not what she expected. Wally continues to watch over her.
Warnings: 18+ only, mentions of death/suicide of a loved one, emotional abuse, mentions of sex, sexual assault, drugs, canon divergence, eventually maybe smut?
Word Count: 929
Disclaimer: I do not own rights to any character, setting or plot designed by the creators of School Spirits.
Author's Note: All chapters are named after songs!
MASTERLIST
The sun had dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in soft shades of lavender and gold as Nathan's car pulled into the driveway of The Bandit Diner. Right across the road from the high school,a local staple with checkered floors, neon signs, and a charm that felt stuck in the 50's. It wasn't fancy, but it was the place for high school dates- casual, public, and filled with just enough noise to cover awkward silences.
Ellie sat in the passenger seat, nervously toying with the hem of her shirt, sneaking glances at Nathan as he parked. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, looking effortlessly cool.
"Figured this was the spot," Nathan said, flashing that lazy, confident grin. "Everyone comes here."
"Yeah, it's perfect," Ellie replied, trying not to sound too eager. Her heart fluttered- not because of Nathan exactly, but the fact that she was on a real date. With the Nathan.
They slipped into a booth near the window, the dull hum of conversation surrounding them. Nathan slouched against the seat, arms stretched wide across the back of the booth as if he owned the place. Ellie, meanwhile, sat straight, folding her hands in her lap, trying not to fidget.
"So, cheerleader and piano player," Nathan started, raising a brow. "You're full of surprises."
"Ellie blinked. "How did you-?"
"Word gets around." He winked.
She blushed, but there was something hollow in the compliment- like he was just saying what she wanted to hear.
They talked- or rather, Nathan talked- about football, his latest game, how he scored the winning touchdown. Ellie smiled, nodding at the right moments, but there was a faint ache in her chest. This wasn't exactly how she'd pictured her perfect first date. Nathan barely asked her anything.
Still, it was flattering, being seen with him.
Halfway through her vanilla milkshake, Nathan tapped his fingers restlessly on the table. "So... this place is kinda loud, huh?" He shot her a sideways glance. "We could ditch and go somewhere more... chill."
Ellie's hand froze around her glass. "Oh. Uh, like where?"
He shrugged, playing it cool. "I know a spot by the lake. Private, quiet. No one would bug us there."
Something tightened in her chest- a mix of flattery and unease. She hesitated, her straw still between her fingers as she swallowed a lump in her throat.
Nathan noticed.
"Hey, no pressure," he added quickly, leaning back. "You're not that kind of girl, right?"
Ellie's eyes widened. "I- no, I just-"
"I get it," he cuts in smoothly, flashing another easy grin, though there was a flicker of irritation behind his eyes. "Takes time. Gotta do it the right way."
The tension eased slightly, but Ellie couldn't shake the uneasiness. She offered a small, polite smile, her stomach sinking despite herself.
Nathan sat back, clearly recalibrating. Okay, he thought. She'll take more work.
Outside the diner window, the neon lights flickered, and across the street, somewhere in the High School parking lot, Wally sat cross-legged on the hood of a parked car, scowling.
"This guy is such a walking red flag," he muttered to no one.
_ _ _
The ride home was quieter than the drive there. The hum of Nathan's car filled the silence, broken only by the soft beat of whatever playlist he had running- something heavy on bass and light on lyrics. Ellie sat with her hands folded in her lap, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the fabric of her jeans as she stared out the window.
Nathan's hand drummed on the steering wheel in rhythm with the music, but every so often, his eyes flickered sideways at her.
"You're real quiet all of a sudden," he said, his tone easing but edged with curiosity.
Ellie offered a soft smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm just thinking, I guess."
"Bout what?"
She hesitated, "I dunno. It was just... different than I expected."
Nathan chuckled, running a hand through his blonde hair. "Different's not always bad."
Ellie didn't respond, but her fingers twisted the hem of her shirt tighter. The car slowed as they turned onto a quieter road, streetlights flickering past in soft bursts of gold. There was a heaviness between them- not uncomfortable, but not easy either.
Nathan broke the silence. "You know," he started, keeping his tone light, "you don't have to be so on edge around me, I'm not some bad guy."
Ellie blinked, caught off guard. "I didn't say you were."
"You didn't have to." He grinned, shooting her a sideways glance. "You can relax. I'm not trying anything."
But you almost did, Ellie thought, though the words stuck in her throat.
"I'm fine," she lied instead.
They pulled up in front of her house- the porch light glowing, shadows stretching long across the front yard. Nathan shifted the car into park but didn't turn it off right away.
He looked at her, his brown eyes a little softer now, like he was trying out his "good guy" face. "I had fun tonight,"
Ellie hesitated, then smiled politely. "Me too."
He leaned in- not too close, but close enough that the implication was there. "So, we doing this again?"
Her heart fluttered with nerves but there was that pang of doubt again, the same one she felt at the diner. Still, she nodded. "Yeah. Maybe."
Nathan grinned. "I'll take it."
She opened the car door, stepping out into the cool night air, but before closing it, she peeked back in. "Goodnight, Nathan."
"Night, Ellie."
As she shut the door, Nathan sat there a beat longer, watching her walk up the driveway. His smile faded slightly, replaced with something more calculating.
She'll come around, he thought, starting the car again. They always do.
Warnings: 18+ only, mentions of death/suicide of a loved one, emotional abuse, mentions of sex, sexual assault, drugs, canon divergence, eventually maybe smut?
Word Count: 1009
Disclaimer: I do not own rights to any character, setting or plot designed by the creators of School Spirits.
Author's Note: All chapters are named after songs!
MASTERLIST
Ellie stood at the kitchen sink, her hands submerged in soapy water as she scrubbed a plate with more force than necessary. Bubbles clung stubbornly to her fingers, sliding down the ceramic like they had nowhere better to be. She wished she could say the same.
The sharp tick-tick-tick of the kitchen clock gnawed at her nerves, each passing second dragging her closer to the inevitable- Aunt Connie's arrival.
Ellie's jaw tensed at the thought. Connie, with her stiff pearls and even stiffer opinions, had a way of turning every visit into a masterclass in passive aggression. Ellie could already hear her nasally voice cutting through the house: "A proper young lady doesn't slouch, dear. And must you always look so... tired? It's unbecoming."
A car door slammed outside.
Ellie winced. Right on cue.
She stole a glance toward the living room where her mother sat, motionless on the stiff leather couch, the television flickering muted images in front of her. Sharon didn't even turn her head. Her hands were folded in her lap, a hollow-eyed stillness about her that Ellie had stopped trying to shake months ago.
"Mom," Ellie tried, her voice tight, "can you, I don't know... maybe say something if she starts in on me again?"
Sharon blinked slowly, her fingers idly tracing patterns on the arm of the couch. "She's family, Ellie. Just... be polite."
Ellie bit back the hot retort burning her throat. Of course. Be polite. Smile and take it. Like always.
Before she could reply, the doorbell chimed- a shrill, drawn-out note that echoed through the hollow spaces of the house. Ellie dried her hands on a dish towel, her shoulders already curling inward as if bracing for a blow. "Here we go," she muttered.
She swung open the door.
There stood Aunt Connie, all roundness and sharp edges- pale pink lipstick too bright against her powdered skin, her curls carefully set beneath a wide-brimmed hat that screamed old money. Her eyes swept over Ellie in a single, critical scan.
"Good heavens, Emmeline," Connie sniffed, her lips pursing. "Still no effort in your appearance, I see. It's so important for young ladies to take pride in themselves."
Ellie's grip tightened on the dish towel. "Hi, Aunt Connie. Nice to see you too."
Connie breezed past her without another word, her heavy perfume trailing behind her like a warning sign. Ellie stood frozen in the doorway for a beat, the weight of the house- its silence, its judgment- settling over her like a heavy coat.
She shut the door and followed Connie inside, already counting the minutes until she could leave the room. Connie settled herself into the armchair like she owned the place, smoothing down her skirt with plump manicured fingers.
Ellie barely had time to sit on the edge of the couch when the front door creaked again.
Malcolm.
Italian leather shoes click-clacked against the entryway floor as he appeared in the doorway. Tall, broad, and imposing. Malcolm filled the room with his presence without trying. His weathered face twisted into a smirk as his eyes flicked between Ellie and Connie.
"Well, if it isn't my favorite sister," he drawled, peeling off his suit jacket and folding it ever so carefully before setting it down on the entryway table.
Connie let out a laugh- high pitched and fake. "Oh, Malcolm, you always say that."
Malcolm snorted, but his gaze slid to Ellie, sharp now, appraising. "You won't believe what this one's been up to."
Ellie's stomach dropped, She didn't even have time to open her mouth before Connie perked up like a hound on the scent of scandal.
"Oh? Do tell," Connie urged, smoothing her skirt as if preparing for a juicy bit of gossip.
"Little Ellie here's been spending her time with some football kid. Nathan."
Ellie's heart thumped painfully in her chest. She didn't say anything, didn't deny it- but the heat of their stares burned into her skin.
Connie gasped in that dramatic, performative way of hers. "Football? Emmeline, really? That's the kind of boy you're wasting your time with?"
Ellie shifted her weight, uneasy. "We've only been on a couple dates."
Connie tutted, leaning forward with her hands clasped over her pearls. "You should be careful, dear. Boys like that- those cocky, rough-around-the-edges types. They're not the kind of young men you build a future with."
Ellie hesitated. She wasn't even sure how she felt about Nathan yet. He was... complicated. And something about him rubbed her the wrong way, even if she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
"I don't even know how I feel about him yet," Ellie admitted, voice low.
But Malcolm wasn't about to let it slide. "You don't have to know. I know his type. Hot headed, thinks he's invincible. And you? You're the perfect target. Sweet little Ellie who doesn't know any better."
"I'm not that naive," Ellie snapped, though there wasn't much fight behind it.
"Could've fooled me," Malcolm shot back, his voice thick with mockery.
Connie's disapproving clucks filled the room. "It's so sad, really. Your father raised you with more sense than this. And now? Running around with football boys like some desperate cheerleader."
Ellie winced like she'd been slapped. That word- father- was always the low blow. Malcolm knew it. Connie knew it.
And Sharon? She didn't even flinch.
"And I know girls who lose themselves over the wrong boys," Connie added sweetly, though the judgment in her voice cut like a knife. "They end up stuck in dead end towns with nothing to show for it."
Ellie's chest burned, but not with anger- more like shame. Not because they were right, but because a part of her wondered if she was being stupid. She didn't wait for Malcolm's next jab or Connie's smug sigh. She turned, the dish towel slipping from her hand, and ascended up the stairs. The murmurs of their voices followed her, low and victorious, as if they'd somehow won.
Ellie slammed her bedroom door and sank onto the bed, her thoughts tangled and messy. And the worst part? She wasn't sure if she was mad at them for judging her- or mad because they might be right.
Summary: Ellie’s stepfather confronts her after her date and she contemplates her situation.
Warnings: 18+ only, mentions of death/suicide of a loved one, emotional abuse, mentions of sex, sexual assault, drugs, canon divergence, eventually maybe smut?
Word Count: 1023
Disclaimer: I do not own rights to any character, setting or plot designed by the creators of School Spirits!
Author's Note: All chapters are named after songs!
MASTERLIST
Ellie closed the front door gently behind her, the soft click of the lock sounding far too loud in the stillness of the house. The porch light outside cast a weak glow through the foggy glass, but inside, the living room was swallowed in shadows. She lingered by the door, fingers still curled around the handle, her heart racing for reasons she didn't fully understand.
"Was that... good?" she whispered to herself, but the answer didn't come.
Click.
A lamp in the far corner flicked on, its harsh yellow light splitting the darkness.
Ellie gasped, her hand flying to her chest.
Malcolm sat in the armchair, his broad frame sinking into the worn leather, one elbow propped on the armrest, fingers steepled against his chin. His eyes, cold and sharp, gleamed in the light.
"You're late," he said flatly.
Ellie's throat went dry, "I- I didn't know there was a curfew."
Malcolm didn't smile. "In my house, there is."
She swallowed hard, her fingers tightening on the strap of her purse. "I was just- out. With friends."
His gaze darkened. "You were with a boy."
The words weren't a question.
Ellie flinched, guilt rushing to her cheeks. "It was just a date. That's all."
Malcolm leaned forward, the leather creaking beneath him. "A date," he repeated, his voice low and laced with disdain. "So? You let him get his hands on you?"
Ellie's chest seized. "What? No! It- it wasn't like that."
His lips curled into a cold sneer. "Don't play stupid, Ellie. Guys like that? They don't take you out for the conversation." He let the word linger, heavy and suggestive. "You let him kiss you?"
Ellie's face flushed hot, the shame instant and suffocating. "I-no, I didn't-"
Malcolm tilted his head, studying her like he was trying to read the truth off her skin. "You think your father would be proud? Letting some boy paw all over you like that?"
The words hit like a gut punch. Ellie's throat tightened, her vision blurring for a split second as the ache in her chest deepened into something raw and cold.
"Nothing happened," she whispered, barely able to force the words out.
He didn't look convinced. "You dress like that, hang around with boys like him, and something's gonna happen sooner or later." He leaned back, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "Girls like you- think you can play innocent until you're not."
Ellie bit her lip so hard it almost broke skin, her nails digging into her palms. "Where's mom?" she managed, her voice barely a thread.
"Sleeping." His jaw flexed. "Like she should be. And don't think I won't tell her about this."
Ellie nodded quickly, even though she knew her mom wouldn't do anything. Would barely react.
"Go to bed," Malcom snapped, waving her off like she was some minor inconvenience. "And next time you sneak in late, I won't be waiting in the dark."
Ellie turned away, her chest burning as she hurried up the stairs, her father's name still ringing in her ears- twisting the knife deeper.
Downstairs, the lamp flicked off, leaving the house drenched in darkness once more.
_ _ _
Ellie lay on her back, staring at the cracks in the ceiling as shadows from the streetlights stretched long, crooked fingers across her wall. The room was quiet- too quiet. Only the soft whir of the fan in the corner and the muffled tick of the clock filled the heavy silence.
Her comforter felt suffocating, twisted around her legs like a net. She kicked it off but still felt trapped.
You think your father would be proud?
Malcolm's words echoed in her head, louder now in the stillness. They coiled deep in her chest, making it hard to breathe. She turned onto her side, pressing her face into her pillow, but the ache didn't go away. Her fingers curled tightly around the edge of the fabric, as if holding onto it might somehow anchor her.
I wish I was somewhere else.
Anywhere else.
Somewhere where the air wasn't so heavy, where she didn't feel like she was constantly walking on glass, waiting for it to shatter beneath her. Her eyes burned, tears welling despite her best efforts to fight them off. She blinked hard, staring at the faint glow of the moon filtering through her curtains.
The date hadn't been what she'd hoped for. Nathan hadn't made her feel special- not really. She'd wanted something simple, something sweet, like the stories in her books- the ones where the boy actually saw the girl, not just what he wanted from her.
But that wasn't real life.
Not hers, anyway.
She let out a shaky breath, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Her room felt too big and too small all at once- each shadow stretching wide, every creak of the house sounding louder in the dark. She rolled onto her back again, staring at the ceiling fan as it spun lazily, the faint rhythm of its blades the only sound she could latch onto.
You're not supposed to feel this lonely, she thought bitterly.
Her fingers drifted toward the thin gold chain around her neck- the locket her dad had given her when she was little- her thumb rubbing over the engraved metal, a small grounding habit.
"I just wish someone actually saw me," she whispered to no one. Her voice cracked on the last word. "Like, really saw me."
A breeze stirred through the room- soft, but strange, since the windows were closed. The air felt... different. Not cold, exactly, but charged, like the space around her was shifting, waiting.
She sat up a little, frowning.
"Get it together, Ellie," she muttered, shaking it off, though a part of her swore she wasn't completely alone in that moment.
Ellie curled back into the safety of her blankets, hugging the locket close to her chest as her breathing slowed. Down the hall, the house creaked again. But this time, it didn't feel quite as heavy.
And somewhere- not in her room, but not far- something unseen lingered.
