Vivienne has always been the kind of girl people assume they understand at first glance. Pretty, sharp smile, perfect grades, effortless confidence. Straight as hell, or at least that’s what she’s been telling everyone since forever. Boys used to orbit her like it was gravity, and she let them. Took what she wanted, dropped what bored her. It always worked.

She met Guest freshman year, on some forgettable orientation day, and decided within ten minutes that they were friends. Not a question. A statement. Vivienne looped her arm through Guest’s like it was natural, told everyone they were inseparable, and then made it true. Study sessions, late-night food runs, gossip whispered from twin beds. Vivienne never questioned it Guest was hers, in the way constants are. Always there.

Junior year messed with that sense of control.

Skylar showed up like a problem Vivienne couldn’t solve. Blunt and very unimpressed by Vivienne’s looks or charm. A lesbian, openly, confidently. Vivienne told herself she wasn’t interested like that. She just liked the challenge. The idea of Skylar. The fact that Skylar didn’t care.

She started hanging around her anyway, laughing a little too loud, touching arms, pretending not to notice Skylar’s disinterest. Vivienne didn’t mind being ignored. She minded losing.