That Popular Guy, Yeah, I Destroyed Him - Chapter 8: Chapter 8

He was lounging on our family couch, my parents flanking him like bodyguards.
The icy glare he shot me sent a chill down my spine.
"Zoe, come here," Mom said, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Sit down. No hiding in your room yet."
I perched on the edge of the sofa, leaving a deliberate gap between Parker and me.
Mom slid her phone across the coffee table. A photo lit up the screen—Luke and me walking side by side, his hand tousling my hair like we were in some cheesy rom-com.
"Zoe," Mom said, voice tight. "Who is this boy?"
My eyes flicked to Parker.
The smug smirk on his face said it all.
Dad stayed silent, lighting a cigarette like this was some noir interrogation scene.
When I didn't answer, Mom launched into her lecture:
"You're a senior now. I'm glad you're making friends after transferring, but there are lines you don't cross. You know better, don't you?"
"Yeah."
I sucked in a breath. "I'll fix it."
Then my phone buzzed. A SnapChat from Parker.
Just four words:
[Tattling's easy. Who can't?]
I blocked and deleted him before the message even fully loaded.
"He's just a friend. That's it."
After Parker finally left, I dug my heels in with Mom.
"And getting bullied before I transferred wasn't my fault either. I didn't do anything."
Mom sighed like I was exhausting her. "I know you wouldn't, but I worry. Parker's always looked out for you. I asked him to keep an eye—"
"What if I told you he's lying? That he's not the same kid anymore?"
My fists clenched, nails biting into my palms.
I stared her down, teetering on the edge of spilling everything—the isolation, the transfer, every cruel stunt he'd pulled.
But Mom just rubbed her temples.
"Zoe, then explain the photo. I just want you to be honest."
My hands went slack.
Forget it.
Next morning, school was a minefield of sideways glances.
Thanks to Parker, the whole grade knew about yesterday's drama—the "fight" over me at the basketball court.
Luke, meanwhile, acted like nothing happened, slumped at his desk scribbling last-minute makeup work.
"Hey, desk thief," he said, nudging my elbow. "Let me copy yours."
I side-eyed his blank paper. "Not even gonna try?"
He rolled his shoulder—then winced dramatically.
"Look what you've done to me. Heartless." His voice dropped to a stage whisper. "You wound me and won't even take responsibility."
A few heads turned. My face burned. "Shut up."
Luke just grinned, unfazed.
I shoved my homework at him.
Then the girl in front of me spun around.
Fiona. Parker's latest girlfriend.
"Zoe." Her smile was razor-thin. "We need to talk."