Chapter 2: The Truth About Hailey

Funny thing about love triangles—they always look messier in real life. I started out as the new girl who stole the boy from his best friend. In the end, I lost him to her, too.

It was straight out of a Netflix teen drama—except this was my life, no fade-out, no soundtrack. The ache in my chest was the only special effect.

Junior year, I’d just transferred and somehow landed top of the class. Teachers liked to pair smart kids with slackers, so I was stuck next to Derek Carter.

New town, new school, new everything. We’d just moved from Nebraska to some Cleveland suburb. My accent slipped out sometimes, and I felt like a total outsider until I saw my name on the seating chart—right next to the class clown.

But Derek didn’t care about studying—he cared about me.

He had that reckless charm that made teachers sigh and girls swoon. He’d twist around in his seat and flash a grin, eyes sparkling with trouble, like he was in on a secret joke.

He’d yank my ponytail or snatch my pen, holding it just out of reach, grinning like he was king of the idiots.

"Natalie, you’re so short."

He always had that teasing lilt, like he knew how to get under my skin. I’d stand on tiptoe to grab my pen, and he’d just laugh, holding it higher.

He’d pass me dumb notes in class—stick-figure doodles of me with wild hair, giant glasses, buried under a mountain of books. I’d bite my lip, fighting a laugh in the middle of chemistry.

Just as I was about to scold him, the teacher caught the note, waved it in the air like it was a smoking gun, and the whole class lost it—someone even snapped a pic for the yearbook. We both got sent out to the hallway for the ultimate walk of shame.

My face burned as I pressed my back to the wall. Derek tried not to laugh, but I could see the corners of his mouth twitching.

I’d never been so embarrassed. With red eyes, I shoved Derek.

"Derek Carter, are you for real right now?"

He knew he was busted, didn’t say a word. After a minute, he folded the stick-figure note into a little star and slipped it into my hand, sheepish and silent. When the teacher came back, Derek straightened up and took the blame, muttering it was his idea. My heart softened, just a little.

Looking at that paper star, I couldn’t help but smile through my tears.

I kept that dumb star for months—tucked in my pencil case, a secret reminder that even idiots could surprise you sometimes.

Derek and I got closer after that. I’d force him to actually study, check his homework, and refuse to let him copy my answers.

He’d groan and roll his eyes, but he always showed up, books in hand. Sometimes he’d bribe me with Skittles from the vending machine, or promise to carry my backpack to the bus stop if I helped him through algebra.

He’d wait for me every day so we could walk to and from school together. We’d stop by the little accessories shop on the corner, and one day, I bought two star necklaces and gave him one.

I remember that day perfectly—spring rain, muddy shoes, Derek grinning at the display case, daring me to pick something out. We laughed about the cheesy couple’s necklaces, but I bought them anyway, blushing like an idiot.

…

Derek was the school star: good-looking, rich, basketball hero, and every girl’s crush.

He could walk into any party and own the place. Teachers loved him, girls swooned, even the lunch ladies gave him extra fries. Sometimes I wondered if there was anything he couldn’t get away with.

One girl cornered me by the lockers and asked if I liked Derek.

She was all lip gloss and attitude, a little crowd gathering behind her, ready for the show.

Annoyed, I blurted out:

"I would never like a guy whose grades are worse than mine."

It came out way too harsh, and I winced. My heart hammered, but I tried to play it cool.

Her eyes flicked past me. My stomach dropped.

I turned my head and there was Derek—who knows how long he’d been standing there.

He looked stunned, hurt. He didn’t say anything, just stared at me, lips tight.

He walked past me, hands shoved in his pockets, not even glancing back. I stood there, frozen, wishing I could take it all back.

After that, Derek stopped talking to me. No more jokes, no more walks home. We sat side by side in silence, close enough to feel each other’s warmth, but miles apart.

I tried writing apology notes, but they all ended up crumpled in the bottom of my bag.

Sometimes I’d catch him glancing at me, but every time I tried to talk, he’d turn away, jaw set.

A year later, Derek stunned everyone by tying me for first place in the class.

It was all over the announcements—"Derek Carter ties for top GPA!"—and even Mr. Jenkins, our math teacher, did a double take handing him his test.

That night, he stopped me outside the gym:

"Natalie, my grades are just as good as yours now. Can you like me now?"

He stood there, jersey over his shoulder, eyes bright with hope and nerves. He’d worked so hard, and I could see it all in his smile.

By now, everything’s a blur. Maybe I tried to forget, or maybe I just grew up. But I remember that day—the jacaranda trees blooming, petals swirling in the wind, his eyes brighter than a supernova.

That light traveled across the universe and landed straight in my heart.

For a moment, it felt like the whole world was holding its breath, waiting for me.

I heard myself say:

"Okay."

It was just one word, but it was everything. Derek’s face lit up, and I realized I’d been holding my breath.

And just like that, we got together.

Suddenly I wasn’t the new girl—I was his girl. And for a while, that was enough.

Young love is wildfire—impossible to control. We were inseparable. Derek introduced me to all his friends and even tattooed my name on his arm.

His buddies hollered when he showed off the shaky black ink at lunch. I pretended to be mad, but secretly, I loved it.

I said I wanted to get into State, and he promised to go there too.

We made plans—dorms, late-night study sessions, cheap pizza. For the first time, the future felt bright.

His mom was thrilled by his new motivation. My grades didn’t slip, so both our parents and the teachers just let us be. We became the school’s only openly dating couple.

Parents exchanged knowing smiles at PTA, teachers looked the other way when we shared headphones in the library. We felt invincible.

I really thought we’d always be together.

Until I found out there was always a girl more important than me.

…

Derek had a childhood friend—Hailey Monroe. Freckles, big brown eyes, the kind of girl everyone wanted as a bestie. She was always around, part of the furniture in Derek’s life. At first, I tried not to care.

Hailey’s dad was once Derek’s father’s mechanic. During a boating accident, he risked his life to save Derek’s father, but couldn’t save himself.

It was the kind of story people told at every barbecue—a tragedy that left a mark on both families. My mom explained it to me once, her voice low as she explained why Derek’s family was so close to Hailey’s.

Derek’s dad stepped up, taking in Hailey and her mom, promising to treat Hailey like a daughter for life.

They lived across the street ever since. Derek’s mom made extra pancakes on weekends, and Hailey and her mom came over in pajamas, laughing like they belonged.

Hailey and Derek grew up inseparable. Even after we started dating, she kept tagging along, following us to and from school.

Sometimes I’d catch her humming to her headphones, trailing a few steps behind. She always knew where we’d be, and it started to get to me.

We fought about it more than once. When Hailey finally stopped, it lasted less than two days before she showed up again, leaning on Derek.

The fights started small but always ended with me feeling like a third wheel in my own relationship.

"Sorry, Natalie, I know you don’t want me to walk with you, but I twisted my ankle and Derek insisted on taking me home."

Hailey limped dramatically, Derek hovering, worried. I felt invisible.

Derek’s eyes were all on her, scolding:

"You hurt your foot and didn’t tell me? If I hadn’t found you, were you gonna hop home on one foot?"

He was all gruff and bossy, but I could hear it—the soft spot he only ever saved for her.

I remember that day: Derek carried Hailey on his back, walking ahead of me.

They looked like a scene from an old movie—her arms around his neck, his stride steady. I followed behind, feeling like a ghost.

Hailey chatted about their childhood, and I couldn’t get a word in. She told stories I’d never be part of. Every word was a reminder I didn’t belong.

She acted spoiled: "Derek, my foot hurts so much."

She pouted, and Derek melted. I wanted to roll my eyes, but bit my tongue.

Derek’s voice went gentle: "Your foot hurts? What should I do, then?"

"I want cake from the corner shop—the most expensive one."

She flashed him a look, batting her lashes. My blood boiled.

"Alright, I’ll take you home first, then get it for you."

He adjusted her, determined.

"Derek, can I walk with you again? When I walk alone, there are always sketchy guys outside school. I’m scared."

Her voice trembled, just enough for Derek’s protector mode to kick in.

Derek frowned: "Why didn’t you say so earlier?"

He turned to her, concern all over his face. I felt like I was watching from the outside.

"I’ll pick you up tomorrow. If I can’t walk with you, you can’t walk alone."

He said it like it was final. I could see where his priorities were.

Hailey smiled at me, her gaze lingering a little too long, her smile a little too sweet. She knew exactly what she was doing.

"Okay."

The word echoed between us, locking me out.

…

The sunset stretched their shadows, inseparable. I trailed behind, lost in the humid gold and pink light. Derek never once looked back.

He didn’t notice when I stopped, didn’t hear me call his name. I stood on the corner, watching them disappear.

He didn’t turn around until Hailey was home, then said:

"I have to buy cake for Hailey, so I won’t walk you home today. Natalie, go home by yourself."

His words landed like a slap. I nodded and turned away, too tired to argue.

I looked at him for a long time, then left. Each step home felt heavier. By the time I reached my door, I’d made up my mind—something had to change.

…

After that, Derek and I gave each other the cold shoulder for a week. Every interaction was either freezing cold or stifling. We’d pass in the hallway without a word, the air thick with resentment.

At first, Derek didn’t think he was wrong:

"I’ve always seen Hailey as a sister. She hurt her foot—how could I just ignore her?"

He looked genuinely confused, like he couldn’t get why I was upset. His loyalty to Hailey ran deep.

I stared at him, flat:

"She could ask her mom or your family’s driver. Why wait for you?"

I tried to stay calm, but my frustration spilled out. I needed him to see my side.

"You see her as a sister, but does she see you as a brother? Can you honestly say you don’t know she likes you?"

He hesitated, eyes darting away. I knew I’d hit a nerve.

Derek sighed and hugged me, holding on tight, like he was afraid I’d slip away.

"Natalie, I only like you. I’ll make things clear with her, keep my distance, okay?"

His promise was soft, almost pleading. I wanted to believe him.

I closed my eyes:

"Okay."

It felt like surrender, but I couldn’t fight anymore.

After that, Derek went to talk to Hailey. I waited outside, heart pounding, watching as he spoke to her. Her face crumpled and she left crying, brushing past me without looking up. I felt guilty, but mostly relieved.

I thought it was over.

But soon Derek came to me, frowning, hesitating:

"Hailey says there’s a guy from another school pestering her. She’s turned him down, but he won’t quit. Today he invited her and some friends out. She asked me to pretend to be her boyfriend to scare him off."

He looked nervous, bracing for a fight.

"Just one night. Just so the guy gets the message."

He tried to sound casual, but his eyes were pleading.

"Wasn’t it the same before? Today she needs you to carry her home, tomorrow you’re her fake boyfriend—what about the next day?"

My voice was sharper than I meant. I hated always being the one to swallow my feelings.

Derek was always patient with me:

"If it hadn’t been for Hailey’s dad, mine wouldn’t be alive. I can’t just ignore her. Just this once. If you’re uncomfortable, come with us."

He reached for my hand, thumb brushing over my knuckles. I saw the guilt in his eyes, the weight he carried.

I knew arguing was pointless, so I just sighed.

"Just one day. I’ll go with you two."

Derek smiled, cupped my face, kissed me.

"My girl is so understanding. I love you most."

He grinned, confidence back, as if those words could fix everything.

…

That night was my first time at a bar. Sure enough, next to Hailey was a tall, muscular guy—Kyle. He looked like a thug, always trying to put his arm around her.

The bartender wore a faded Browns cap, not even bothering to check our IDs as he slid plastic cups down the sticky counter. The place smelled like beer and old popcorn. The music was loud, the air thick with sweat and cheap cologne.

Derek stepped up, shoved him away, pulled Hailey close, and glared at the guy.

"Keep your hands off. She’s my girlfriend."

His voice was cold, steely—a warning. Hailey nestled in, playing the part a little too well.

Derek had done martial arts since he was a kid. When he put on that cold face, even guys like Kyle backed off.

Kyle shrank back, muttering. Derek didn’t let up, daring him to try again.

Someone tried to break the tension:

"Let’s play Truth or Dare! Kyle’s buying tonight—order anything."

A girl in a sparkly tank top waved. The bartender rolled his eyes and started pouring shots.

Kyle’s family was rumored to run protection rackets; everyone knew not to mess with him. He’d been after Hailey since meeting her at a group dinner.

Hailey looked unfazed, twirling her hair. It was like she lived for this kind of attention.

Derek sneered, tossing a black Amex on the table.

"No need. I’m paying for everything tonight."

His voice was casual, but the challenge was clear.

All eyes locked on the card. Someone whistled, a girl pulled out her phone for Snapchat.

A girl’s eyes lit up:

"Is that a black card? Hailey, you’re not fair—handsome and rich and you kept him a secret!"

She leaned across the table, voice dripping envy. Hailey just smiled, soaking it in.

Hailey smiled, leaning into Derek. My stomach dropped so hard I thought I might be sick. He glanced at me, but I looked away, staring at the sticky rows of shot glasses.

Kyle’s face darkened. Maybe his friend’s girlfriend worried he’d start a fight, so she grabbed a beer bottle:

"Let’s play Truth or Dare. Whoever the bottle points to goes."

She spun it, glass catching the lights. The game started—laughter and nervous glances everywhere.

After a few rounds, everyone picked truth. Nothing outrageous—just embarrassing stories and dumb confessions. The tension eased. For a moment, I almost relaxed.

Then the bottle landed on Hailey.

She smiled, tucking her bangs behind her ear:

"I choose dare."

She said it with a confidence that made everyone lean in.

My heart sank.

Sure enough, the girl next to her piped up:

"Pick a guy and kiss him—a real kiss!"

The words hung in the air. Everyone stared at Hailey and Derek. The game had turned deadly.

Hailey blushed, looking at Derek. He looked at me, apology flickering in his eyes, then turned away, jaw clenched.

"Then I choose—" Hailey pointed at Derek without hesitation. Kyle’s face twisted.

Derek’s face went dark.

"Pick another dare."

His voice was low, dangerous. But everyone just laughed, egging them on.

"Aren’t you two a couple? What’s there to be embarrassed about? Kiss! Kiss!"

The whole table chanted, pounding the table, phones out. I shrank into my chair, wishing I could disappear.

Kyle glared: "Are you really Hailey’s boyfriend?"

Hailey clung to Derek, voice soft:

"Of course."

Her beautiful eyes pleaded, lips parted: "Derek..."

She leaned in closer. My heart froze.

Derek sat there, paralyzed. The room spun. I didn’t belong here—not with him, not with any of them.

Just before their lips touched, I shot up.

My chair scraped loudly. Every eye turned to me. I didn’t care. I was done being an afterthought.

Derek flinched, Hailey’s kiss landing on the corner of his mouth. He tried to grab my wrist, but I yanked away.

Ignoring the shocked faces, I walked out.

The summer night slapped me awake—humid, electric, alive. I kept walking, fists clenched, refusing to let a single tear fall until I was blocks away. Behind me, the laughter faded. Ahead, the city lights blurred. For the first time, I wondered if letting go of Derek Carter might finally let me breathe.