Juliet's first day ended better than she expected. She met a few girls in different classes, learned how the hallways worked, and even laughed a little. By the time the final bell rang, she had almost forgotten about Sarah entirely.
Almost.
At home, her parents greeted her with a flood of questions. How was school? Did you like it? Were the teachers nice? Did you make friends? Juliet answered everything easily, her words flowing naturally—except for one detail. She didn't mention Sarah. She didn't mention the whispering, or the skipping, or the way her chest tightened when Sarah talked.
She told herself she hadn't lied. She just hadn't told the whole story.
Still, guilt sat heavy in her stomach. She already knew what her parents would say if she told them. Stay away from her. She's bad news. Don't listen to her. Juliet didn't want to hear that yet, so she stayed quiet. She took a bath, ate dinner, and eventually found herself upstairs, curled under her blanket, staring at the ceiling.
That's when Sarah slipped back into her thoughts.
She knew skipping school was wrong, but Sarah didn't seem like a bad person. She was confident. Funny. She talked to Juliet when no one else really did. She made her feel noticed. And that mattered more than Juliet wanted to admit. By the time sleep finally took her, Juliet realized something that surprised her.
She couldn't wait to see Sarah the next day.
Day two came too fast. Juliet felt like she had barely closed her eyes before her alarm went off. The excitement from the first day was gone, replaced with a heavy feeling she didn't recognize yet. Still, she got dressed and went to school. She already felt behind from starting late—missing another day wasn't an option.
Finding her classes was easier this time, though still stressful. She sat at her desk and waited for class to begin. Sarah wasn't there. Juliet told herself not to think about it.
Halfway through the lesson, the door burst open.
Sarah walked in like she owned the room. Every head turned, including the teacher's. She wore a black hoodie with something clearly inappropriate printed on the back and headphones resting over her ears. She didn't apologize. She didn't rush. She just walked calmly to her seat and nodded at Juliet.
Without thinking, Juliet nodded back.
That small moment bothered her more than it should have. She had been raised to say good morning, good afternoon, good night. Respect mattered. And yet, everything had been reduced to a nod. I'm changing, she thought. The question that followed scared her more. Do I like it?
"Sarah," the teacher snapped, cutting through her thoughts. "You're late, you're wearing headphones, and you're out of dress code. You know this affects your grade."
Sarah rolled her eyes.
"Come with me," the teacher said.
They left the room and returned a few minutes later. Sarah now wore a plain grey hoodie that didn't look like her at all. As they walked back in, the teacher added, "And take the headphones out."
"I'm not even listening to anything," Sarah muttered.
"It doesn't matter. Take them out."
Sarah tossed them onto the desk dramatically. Juliet watched, her stomach twisting. She knew this wasn't someone she should want to be around. She knew that. And yet, when Sarah leaned toward her, Juliet leaned in too.
"Did you think about my offer from yesterday?" Sarah whispered.
Juliet laughed—the same weak, nervous laugh. It wasn't a yes, but it wasn't a no either.
"Don't do that again," Sarah said. "You already ditched me yesterday. What about today? You're not being a very good friend."
Friend? Juliet's mind raced. They had just met. How could they be friends already? She didn't say it out loud. She laughed again and immediately hated herself for it.
"Bro, seriously," Sarah said. "Let's just go."
"I can't," Juliet whispered. "My parents are kind of strict."
Sarah scoffed. "Okay, and? Do they own you? You're your own person. Those feet you got? Use them."
Juliet laughed again. I sound ridiculous, she thought. But she didn't move. She couldn't. Whatever Sarah thought of her didn't compare to what her parents would do if they found out.
"Goody tissue," Sarah muttered, turning back to the board. "Y'all always act like the others."
"Just… give me time to think about it," Juliet whispered, even though she already knew she wouldn't go.
Sarah shrugged, and class continued. Sarah did no work at all. She stared at the screen while Juliet completed everything, her pencil moving quickly as if work could drown out her thoughts.
In her next period, Juliet sat beside a girl named Rosaline. Rosaline felt familiar in a way Juliet couldn't explain. They talked easily. At one point, Juliet leaned over and asked quietly, "Do you know a girl named Sarah?"
Rosaline frowned. "No. Why?"
"She's in my English class. She keeps telling me to skip."
Rosaline didn't hesitate. "Absolutely not. Your education matters. Don't throw it away for some girl who clearly doesn't care."
Juliet rubbed her forehead. "I know. I just don't know how to say no."
Rosaline puffed out her chest. "You want me to say it for you? I will."
Juliet laughed, this time for real. They both did, and for the first time that day, the weight in her chest eased.
The rest of the day passed quickly. When Juliet got home, she talked about school again. She still didn't mention Sarah. But she did talk about Rosaline. Her parents liked that. Rosaline made sense to them.
As Juliet lay in bed that night, she thought about how different the two girls were—and how strange it was that she was being pulled in opposite directions already.
And this was only day two.