My phone buzzed again, rattling against the nightstand like it was trying to climb its way into my hand.

I already knew it wasn’t Jaxon.

When I picked it up, Leah’s name lit the screen.

LEAH: We need to talk.

I stared at it long enough that another message came through.

JAMIE: Backyard. Now.

There was no emoji. No passive-aggressive period. Just three words.

I pulled on my hoodie, zipping it up to my chin, and headed outside into the cool night. The air smelled like wet grass and that faint, lingering smoke from someone’s forgotten fire pit. Our porch light flickered like it was struggling to stay awake, casting everything in a sickly yellow haze.

They were already there when I stepped out, like they had been waiting. Leah was perched on the porch steps, hugging her knees to her chest. Jamie leaned against the grill like he was guarding it, hands buried deep in his jacket pockets, his whole posture tense. And Macy… Macy stood off to the side, arms crossed, lips pressed together in a line that made my stomach knot.

No one said anything at first.

I shoved my hands into my hoodie pockets and blew out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“Okay,” I said, voice rough. “Roast me.”

Jamie didn’t even blink before firing the first shot.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

His voice wasn’t angry so much as it was tired, like he’d spent too long trying to make sense of it and finally gave up.

Leah leaned forward slightly. “Why the secrets, Zo? You had us.”

There wasn’t accusation in her tone, just hurt. And somehow, that made it worse.

Macy shifted, kicking at a loose stone near the bottom step. When she finally spoke, her voice was clipped, sharp around the edges. “And you picked him.”

I swallowed hard, the words lodging in my throat like splinters.

“I didn’t pick him over you,” I said, steady but quiet.

Macy crossed her arms tighter. “Sure felt like it.”

I wanted to argue. I wanted to stand there and tell them that none of this was simple, that none of it was clean, that I’d been falling apart and gluing myself back together with bad decisions and whispered lies. But the thing was, they weren’t wrong.

I let out a long breath and looked up at the night sky, searching for stars that the light pollution swallowed whole.

“You guys have always seen me as the overachiever,” I said. “The one who holds it together. The one who fixes the mess, not makes it.”

Jamie shifted but didn’t interrupt.

“I didn’t know how to tell you I was angry,” I went on. “That I wasn’t okay. That I didn’t want to be perfect anymore. I thought if I told you I wanted revenge… you’d look at me and not recognize me.”

Leah’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile, not quite a frown.

“I thought if I let myself be messy, I’d lose you,” I finished. “But somewhere along the line, I lost myself first.”

Macy looked down at the grass for a long time before speaking.

“You know what’s crazy?” she said, voice softer than it had been all night. “We didn’t need you to be perfect.”

I blinked, thrown off by the gentleness.

“We liked you because you were… you,” she said. “Yeah, you were organized. Yeah, you kept our group chats alive and our projects sane. But that wasn’t why you mattered.”

She kicked at the gravel again, still not meeting my eyes.

“I’m sorry I made it feel like you had to choose,” Macy said, words low but sure. “I should’ve been a better friend. Not Maddie’s sidekick.”

Something in my chest cracked open a little at that.

Leah stood up from the steps and crossed the few feet between us. She didn’t hesitate. She just pulled me into a hug, squeezing tightly enough that my breath hitched.

“You didn’t lose us, Zoe,” she said against my shoulder. “You scared us. You hurt us. But you didn’t lose us.”

Jamie pushed off the grill with a heavy sigh and wandered closer.

“But you owe us the truth now,” he said, jabbing a finger toward me like he was making it law. “No more secrets. No more backseat scheming.”

I laughed under my breath, watery and broken but real.

“Promise,” I said, pulling back from Leah enough to look at all three of them.

They didn’t smile. They didn’t say everything was magically fixed.

But they were here, with me. And maybe that was enough for now.

Then Leah said it, the thing we were all avoiding.

“What about prom?”

The words hit harder than they should have, and I looked away, toward the dark stretch of backyard that used to feel like home and now just felt like a place I didn’t belong.

“They banned me,” I said, voice flat. “Suspension. Official. If I show up, they’ll kick me out.”

Macy flinched, just slightly, like she hadn’t fully let it sink in until now. Leah muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like bullshit. Jamie cursed outright, pacing a few steps before rubbing his hands through his hair.

“That’s not fair,” Leah said, fierce in a way that made my chest ache.

I shrugged, hitching my hoodie higher. “It is, though.”

They stared at me like I’d just confessed to murder.

“I’m the one who broke it,” I said. “The rules. The plan. Us. All of it.”

Macy opened her mouth, then closed it again, frustration written in every line of her face.

Jamie just kicked at the dirt, sending a rock spinning into the darkness.

“I’m not saying Liam didn’t deserve it,” I added quickly. “Or Maddie. Or… whatever. I’m just saying I threw the first match.”

The words sat heavy between us.

For once, none of them argued.

And maybe that hurt more than if they had.

Because deep down, part of me knew it was true. I hadn’t been dragged into this mess. I hadn’t stumbled. I’d chosen it. Chosen fire over safety. Chosen revenge over forgiveness. Chosen Jaxon over caution.

And choices have consequences.

Even if sometimes the wrong people paid for them.