The universe sent Lexie signals all day. Subtle hints of the danger to come.

Unfortunately, she would only realize what they were after it was too late.

Right now, she tried unsuccessfully to clear the dots in her vision as she blinked at her laptop screen, interrupted by panicked conversation surrounding her.

“Oh shit, oh shit!” The quivering voice of her classmate seated on the neighboring desk went off, loud enough for everyone around her to hear. “I can’t do this.”

“Relax, Cassie, relax,” said her friend seated beside her.

“You don’t understand,” Cassie snapped at her. “I can’t!”

“Just open your portal. I swear you got in. I just know it.”

Cassie didn’t seem confident as she pushed a few buttons on her brand new Macbook. And she was right not to be unsure, because just seconds later she took off running in a teary fit.

“Cassie!” Her friend chased after her. A few people of their classmates laughd, and others made sounds of sympathy.

Meanwhile Lexie tried unsuccessfully to tune all of it out. It was hard enough to focus without the noise. Her head felt foggy, her brain heavy like she had to drag it along. She’d managed two all nighters in a row to finish this research paper and she was still only halfway done. And she felt like she might pass out any second now.

Maybe she should take a break.

Breaks are for the weak, her inner voice countered mockingly. You’re fine. Just need more caffeine.

She rose to get just that, feeling a little woozy as she did. Then as she left her classroom, a buzz of anxious conversation followed in her wake.

Everyone was on edge, even though they tried to pretend they weren’t. They spoke in hushed tones, forced laughter, and said stuff like, “Oh yeah, I didn’t want to get in anyway.”

As she passed the bathroom, Lexie heard someone throwing up. The intercom beeped every hour to remind everyone to stay calm. It wasn't the end of the world though it might feel like it.

The anxiety was eating a hole in Lexie’s stomach too, but she maintained a calm exterior. Her hand shook a little, the nerves buzzing underneath her skin. But no one here would see her sweat.

Early Decision's week was here and the heat was on.

Saint Juana’s Preparatory Academy was a school full of dramatic overachievers, like Lexie, who took Early Decision's week very seriously. For a lot of them, their entire life hinged on getting into a good school. And doing it early–before the rest of the less educated plebeians who didn’t go to SJP and hence could only get into schools regular decision–gave them a sort of privilege, solidifying their status as the best and brightest of New York Society.

At the end of the day, they all got to send their acceptances on this big class group chat. Anyone who didn’t get in early action or early decision to an elite university was quickly identified and tagged as a loser.

Lexie had only applied to one school early, and she was awaiting the email. It felt like the most important email she would ever get in her life. It occupied most of her mind this morning.

Until she turned the corner and froze upon the last thing she wanted to see.

A bunch of boys surrounding an even smaller one in a leather jacket.

Lexie’s mother always warned her to avoid guys with leather jackets, but somehow she didn’t think mom meant this one. For one, he was only sixteen years old, the same as her. He was short for a guy too, only a few inches above her five-three-and-a-quarter. His jacket was clearly not a stylistic choice–it was worn, with patches and tears in the elbows, and faded from frequent use. The boy wore it so often, she figured it might be the only jacket he had. It disappeared during the summer but always made an appearance right before the winter months started. And even when some classmates had thrown it in the trash full of yesterday’s lunch, as a cruel joke, she’d seen him fish it out painstakingly, seemingly unbothered by the smell of rotten food that clung to it.

Must be warm, she’d thought to herself.

Leather jacket boy’s name was Tate Reynolds and lately, he was having a lot of problems.

The tallest guy surrounding Tate, whose name Lexie didn’t care to know, playfully shoved him into the locker. ‘Playfully’ in quotes because Tate didn’t look like was enjoying the treatment. The other boys prevented his escape, so he could do nothing but stand there, stiff in defiance, shoulders hunched in defense, while they pushed and smirked and murmured whatever they were saying with those cruel looks on their faces.

No one was being explicitly violent yet. It was too early for that, and the security cameras were right there.

Still, it was meant to be humiliating and psychologically draining.

And judging from Tate’s reddened face, it was working.

But also, none of this was any of Lexie’s business. Even though frustration had her clenching her fists, and the avenging side of her wanted to sock at least one of those bullies in the face.

No, not violence. That wouldn’t help.

But maybe she could reason with them. Tell them how unfair and stupid it was that there were five of them picking on the smaller boy. Tell them they looked like total losers doing it.

But they wouldn’t care what Lexie thought and getting on their radar would be bad for the rest of her school year.

She ran through the scenarios in her tired mind and came up blank. Try as she might, there was nothing she could do for Tate right now. At least, nothing she was willing to do.

It’s none of my business, Lexie reminded herself, forcing her fists to unclench and her jaw to unknot.

She turned around and walked away, deciding to take the long way to the vending machine.

Something in her, that crazy urge, wanted her to go back, to do something about what she’d seen. But what would I even do? She reminded herself that she didn’t have time to worry about someone else when her life was chock-full of activity as is.

She woke up at 5:00 am and had online Spanish and Mandarin classes with tutors in Madrid and Shanghai respectively.

Then she took the train to get to school early enough for violin practice. And that was before classes began, with eight AP classes and a full roster of extracurriculars.

Lexie was constantly exhausted.

But even hinting at her exhaustion would only earn her a proud smile and words of encouragement from her parents.

"You can do it, Lexie."

"We believe in you."

I wish you didn't, Lexie would think uncharitably. So then maybe I could get some rest.

She finally got to the vending machine and fed it her card. Then she leaned her head against the cool metal to rest her eyes for two seconds while it hummed.

A few seconds later, her fingers wrapped around two cool soda cans, retrieving them from the vending machine. She felt woozy when she straightened but she ignored it, taking a breath as she walked back into the classroom.

Tate was at his desk when she got there, his leather jacket gone. His head was propped on the table, eyes closed.

A twinge of guilt squeezed her chest.

Before she could change her mind, she walked over, put the second can of coke on his desk and walked away back to her seat. It was an empty gesture. She almost hated herself for doing it.

The coke wouldn’t actually do anything to solve his problem, most of which surrounded the intense bullying he’d been receiving for the past few weeks. Lexie didn’t know what brought it about, probably something stupid. But she’d seen it with her own eyes yesterday after hours, when most of the staff and students were already gone.

They’d cornered him in the back by the cafeteria, where she could see them through the study room window. Tossing his jacket into the trash was only a small part of what they did. And she’d heard stories about other things. Peeing in his locker. Stealing his gym clothes. Occasional shoving in the hallway.

For a bunch of smart kids, SJP students were truly juvenile and uncreative with their bullying.

Tate never responded to any of it.

His eyes would remain carefully flat as they taunted him, as though he knew that expressing emotion would make everything a thousand times worse.

Except yesterday, his eyes met Lexie’s and they’d blazed with a rage that seared right through her.

She’d frozen when their eyes locked through the glass window, not knowing what to do. Should she have called someone? But no one would have cared. And those who cared wouldn’t have acted. The people behind the bullying were the richest of the rich kids, with well-connected parents. The kind of kids that you never wanted to be on their radar. One of them was the senator’s son. The staff wouldn’t do much more than give them a slap on the wrist, and it would make things worse for the boy in the long run. And if it got out that she snitched, she would get bullied too.

So yesterday, after she saw him, Lexie had steeled her heart, and done the sensible thing. She’d turned back to her textbooks and ignored the problem. Just like she did five minutes ago.

And now she’d just given him a coke as though that was supposed to make up for her inaction.

Because that was essentially the kind of person she was. A sensible, people-pleasing coward.

A part of her was truly terrified that she would always be this person.

She fought the rising guilt and self-disgust, and tried to tell herself it wasn't her fault Tate was getting bullied. She shouldn’t even care. They weren’t friends and Lexie wasn’t 'Ms. popular' either. And she didn't get him the coke because she felt guilty. It was just supposed to be a nice thing.

She repeated those thoughts again and again, as she kept typing, but it wasn't convincing. She was never very good at lying to herself.

He’ll still get bullied tomorrow, and I’ll still pretend not to see it.

She thought for a second she felt his gaze at her back, but when she sat and glanced over, his eyes were still shut, not looking like he’d stirred.

After the school day had run its course, she got on the subway and finally pulled out her phone. She hadn’t wanted to open up her portal at school, and she didn’t want to do it at home either. But in the subway, no one cared if she got into a good school or not.

No one would be disappointed or laugh at her if she cried.

So the train was the ideal place to open up the portal.

With a pounding heart, she entered her login details (for some reason they never auto-saved), went to the inbox, and opened the newest letter. She read the first line, then reread it three times. Her breath caught. Everything inside her seemed to soar and plummet at the same time. It took a full minute before she could get herself to believe it.

“Shit.”

----------------------------------------

“Think fast, loser!”

Lexie heard her brother’s running footsteps before he even spoke and ducked on instinct avoiding his hand that was about to smack her in the back of the head. Missing his target, he stumbled forward a few steps and then righted himself, spinning around to grin.

“Damn, almost had you.”

“Almost doesn't cut it,” Lexie responded smugly.

Despite being two years younger than her, Logan now towered over her, his lanky frame looking extra stretched out in his jeans, which he’d outgrown only a few days ago.

Her mother had finally given up on buying him new clothes because as she put it, she couldn’t "buy a new wardrobe every two weeks". Logan was growing so fast that he seemed to gain an inch every time Lexie saw him.

And now his new puffer jacket had a tear in the armpit. Lexie nudged it open and said, “Mom’s going to freak when she sees that.”

Logan shrugged. "Mom always freaks. It’s like her favorite thing. I think if she didn’t freak out at least once a day the world would stop turning, and an interdimensional wormhole would open up."

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

“Yeah, I know she can be a lot, but you don’t have to make life harder on her. Her tenure got revoked and you know how dad gets. She’s going through it, you know?"

"And I’m not?” His voice was a little sharp and Lexie swallowed whatever other admonitions she had. She knew her brother was undoubtedly having a tough time. While Lexie was at least trying to live up to her parent’s lofty expectations, Logan had completely given up on that. He refused to take any extra classes, slacked off when he could, and spent most of his time in his room playing video games. As such, he’d completely bombed the entrance exam to SJP and now went to public school.

Which, in their parent’s eyes, was a massive failure.

But Logan didn’t really fit in at his school in Brooklyn either. Lexie’s brother may be a slacker but he was also pretty intelligent and was probably the smartest person at that school.

And in public school, ‘smart’ was sometimes a very bad thing to be.

“Sorry,” she said, and he shrugged.

“It’s whatever,” which was his way of saying all was forgiven. Still, an awkward-ish silence followed.

“I got into MIT,” Lexie blurted out.

Logan stopped in the process of kicking a piece of snow-covered gravel and gaped at her. "What?"

“Early decisions came out today. Just checked mine.” She released a sigh. “I got in.”

“That’s…” Words seemed to fail her brother and Lexie smiled. He was usually so quick with retorts, part of why he got into so much trouble. To see him dumbfounded was surprising and satisfying. “Good?” His breath formed a puff of fog in the frosty air.

“Is that a question?”

“I don’t know. I’m guessing it’s supposed to be a good thing, but you kinda look like someone peed in your locker.”

“So that's really the new thing teenage boys are doing now? Peeing in lockers?”

He shrugged. “Don’t ask me. It’s not like I participate.”

Lexie sighed, as they continued walking, making a sport of kicking snow and gravel concurrently. Exhaustion weighed on her shoulders. There was still a long silent stretch of road to walk before she got home. A dull headache throbbed at one side of her skull. And she still had that paper to finish.

“So…can I ask? Do you want to go to MIT?”

“I suppose.” The words passed Lexie's lips before she realized it was a lie. She had never wanted to go to MIT. She’d always just felt like she had to.

It was one of the best schools in the country. MIT was also the school her mother wanted to go to. But she never got in and Lexie’s father saw it as a weakness. He made passive aggressive comments about it all the time.

Lexie was thirteen when the passive aggressive comments her parents traded like sport turned into something else. She didn’t know why but suddenly they were having daily fights and everything was slowly but steadily falling apart. Then mom cut her hair and dyed it red. Dad bought a Camaro and barely came home at night. They each became jointly fixated on the idea of Lexie going to MIT.

Sometimes Lexie felt like that goal was the only thing keeping her family together.

And now that she‘d achieved it, she didn’t know what would happen.

“I didn’t think I’d get in,” she admitted to Logan. “I thought…” She thought that her hard work wouldn’t be enough and she would get rejected. She didn't think her application was all that special. All she had were her grades and very minor leadership roles in a couple of clubs. Her letters of rec were probably so-so, since it was just an extension of how smart she was although most of her teachers probably saw her as an annoying know-it-all who asked too many questions and corrected them at times. She had a personal statement about how she played card games with her grandpa in hospice. Yeah, sad; but everyone had a story like that tucked away.

All in all, Lexie didn’t feel exceptional at all. And MIT notably liked exceptional.

So she didn’t think she would get in. She had almost made peace with that.

It would suck at first, and her parents would most likely make her feel horrible about it, but then maybe they would get over it. Lexie would cry and feel like a failure for a few weeks. But then she would get over it too.

Maybe then, she could explore other options and figure out what the heck she wanted to do with her life beyond school.

But now that she got in...

“You make everything harder for me, you know that?” Logan huffed. “Now I look like even more of a failure.”

“You’re not a failure. You just don’t want to be their focus.” She kicked another stone weakly. “You botched the entrance exam to St. Juana’s on purpose, didn't you?

“Obviously. If I didn't, I would turn into one of you nerds moping about getting into MIT."

Lexie shoved him and he chuckled.

“You could just not tell mom and dad that you got in. And buy me off so I keep your secret too.” He rubbed his hands together schemingly. “I can be convinced for the right price.”

Lexie shook her head. "I have to tell them. I'd just feel guilty, otherwise."

He gave her a disappointed look. "I wouldn't."

"I know." Lexie stared up at the yellowing sky.

They walked in silence for some time until a gas station came into view. Once again, Tate came to mind. He worked at that gas station. Lexie thought maybe his dad owned it or something. She’d seen him there a few times and now as they were approaching, that unsettled feeling came back full fold.

Maybe I should check if he’s okay.

"You go ahead," Lexie said to her brother. "I gotta grab some snacks for studying tonight."

"Get me twizzlers." Logan snapped her bag strap and ran off before she could retaliate.

As her brother became a blip in the distance, Lexie turned back to the gas station.

She dragged her feet across the concrete floors vaguely wondering if she could manage another all-nighter. She was almost at the steps when she noticed: she didn't see anyone behind the counter through the glass.

Instead, she heard voices around the corner leading to the alley.

She approached out of curiosity and that was when she noted that the voice was familiar. She peeked around the corner to make sure.

Robbie McBride.

He went to SJP but she didn’t know much about him, only that he was a grade above her, his dad was a senator and he once offered her Xanax during a Chemistry lab.

He was also one of Tate’s bullies.

“Do it,” he drawled cheerily. "Get on your knees and kiss my feet first. Then admit to the whole school what a pathetic piece of shit you are. And how you had to beg me for money last month."

Robbie wasn't alone. He was surrounded by his chuckling goons, one of whom was holding up a smartphone recording their victim. Opposite them was Tate who was giving them all that annoyed, tired look.

“Wouldn’t showing everyone what a ‘pathetic piece of shit’ I am also implicate you?” Tate asked. “Because I didn’t beg you for anything. You paid me to take an exam for you.”

“And you got me a B!”

“Because, with your academic history, an A wouldn’t have been remotely believable. We would have gotten caught.” He sounded exasperated, like he was tired of explaining this again and again.

Someone snickered at that and Robbie shot them a dirty look. “Fuck you. Are you calling me stupid?”

“No. But this is going too far.” Tate asked heatedly. “I got you to pass the class and I don’t see why I’m getting punished for it.”

Robbie’s eyes narrowed. “That wasn’t the plan, asshole. Why would I pay you all that money for a B? My parents expected me to ace the test. You wanna know what happened when I didn’t?”

“I’m sorry but that’s not my fault. It’s not my fault that your Daddy ignores you and Mommy is sleeping with her yoga instructor. It’s not my fault that none of them give a shit about you. It’s also not my fault you can’t pass a fucking Calculus test on your own.”

Damn.

Lexie was shocked. Those were fighting words, and she’d never heard Tate fight back before. She’d barely heard him speak before now.

And she didn’t know he could cut someone down at the knees like that. Lexie was a little impressed. And Tate appeared surprised by his own audacity too.

Robbie's face turned red as one of his goons snickered.

“Robbie,” Tate said, holding up his hands. “I didn’t mean that. Listen…”

In a harried, flustered move, Robbie reached behind him and pulled out a fancy, historic gun from his waistband.

Lexie froze.

Tate froze.

Even a few of Robbie's goons looked at him like he was crazy.

“Are you insane?” Tate asked, his voice stunned and also alarmed.

“Ha. Not so tough now," Robbie chuckled.

“Bro, is that real?” one of the goons said.

“Yup. I grabbed my dad’s custom stetson on the way out. Thought maybe I could have some fun with it in the woods. But this loser just gave me a better idea.” He turned back to Tate, a manic look on his face. “You really want me to forgive you? To tell everyone to leave you alone? Beg for it. Grovel like I told you to."

“Are you serious?”

“Dead ass.”

Lexie heard a distinct click that had her heart leaping in her throat. Robbie definitely just took the safety off.

Lexie’s heart began racing. Is this really happening?

It was easy to believe it wasn't because Tate looked to the sky with a “Why me?” look on his face. As though what was happening was merely irritating. He clearly didn't appreciate the gravity of the situation.

He even said, in a steady tone, “Robbie, I’m sorry I–”

“Nah, I don’t give a shit about that. On your knees.”

“Come on my guy, I’m sure there’s another way we can work this out.”

Tate’s reasonable tone only made Robbie madder. “Grovel. Now!”

But Tate didn’t get on the floor. He stared Robbie in the eye for several seconds and then his eyes flicked to the gun.

In a split second, he seemed to come to a decision and he took a step forward. “And if I don’t?”

Lexie didn’t know who was more surprised, her or Robbie’s goons. Robbie’s face burned. She was even more surprised when Tate suddenly stepped close enough that there was only a few inches between the barrel and his forehead.

“Go ahead.” His eyes met Robbie’s gaze once again. His expression had not changed much from that carefully expressionless face but Lexie could swear there was a crazed gleam in his eyes. “Put me out of my misery so I never have to see your ugly ass face again. I’m actually curious to know if you have the balls.”

Oh. My God. Everyone here is crazy.

Maybe he doesn't get it. Lexie thought, heart racing with panic. She retreated a few steps, then pulled out her phone, dialing 911 as quietly as she could. He doesn't get how much danger he’s in. Even if Robbie’s joking around, accidents happen.

"911, what’s your emergency?"

"There's a lunatic with a gun pointing at my…friend." She said it in as low a voice as possible.

"What’s your location?"

She rattled it off and then tuned back into the conversation to see that the two boys were still in a stalemate, with Robbie looking madder and madder.

"A lunatic with a gun you said?" The operator repeated and impatience bit at Lexie.

"Yes."

"Can you describe him?"

“The lunatic or the friend?”

“The former.”

"Um…Shaved blonde hair. Blue eyes. Looks like a preppy skinhead. Do you really need this right now?" she hissed.

"Yes ma'am. And do you personally know this person?"

Jesus, by the time I answer all these questions, Robbie might actually shoot him.

Lexie peeked once more around the wall. Robbie’s hand shook around the hilt, his finger skimming the trigger. Tate eyed him steadily, doing a great job of hiding the terror he was probably feeling. Robbie swallowed, and his nose flared, his shoulders squaring. He took another step to press the gun against Tate’s forehead.

Lexie’s heart rate spiked. This was getting out of hand. She should get out of here before she got dragged into it.

But if she left, Robbie might shoot Tate before the police even got here. Tate would be dead and Robbie, with his family’s political influence, might even get away with murder.

"Hello? Ma'am?"

With a single thought, Lexie hung up and went on Instagram Live, aiming the camera to capture what was happening. She didn’t have a large following, mostly acquaintances she’d met through her closest friend, Mickie. But she waited until at least one name popped up on the bottom of the screen.

Good. Now at least one of the viewers will call 911 and video evidence would dissuade Robbie from taking this any further.

Lexie took a deep breath and stepped out of the corner.

"Drop the gun, Robbie. Get away from him."

Bang!

It turned out that was the wrong thing to do, startling an unhinged maniac.

Because Robbie jerked around in shock, still pointing the gun. And then the gun went off.

It was facing Lexie’s direction.

She had a second to think about how all this could have played out differently. She could have stayed on the phone with 911 instead of trying to play hero. Maybe if she hadn’t been so exhausted she would have realized how stupid of an idea this was. Maybe if she wasn’t so bothered by Tate’s problem, she would have minded her own damn business.

But all those maybes didn't matter anymore.

It was hard to describe everything that happened after. A burning pain seared through her chest. There was yelling and she felt her body hit the ground hard, elbow dislocating on impact. She tried to get herself back up but slipped again on blood that was pooling over black tar.

It was hard to move any of her limbs, like all the strength was being siphoned out of them. An excruciating agony burned from her chest all the way down to her abdomen and up to her throat. Was it getting harder to breathe? Or was she choking on her own blood?

Then, Lexie was lying flat on her back and Tate's face loomed above her, his eyes wide and horrified.

“Oh shit.” Contrary to how mellow he’d looked confronting Robbie, he was now pale, and shakily dropped to his knees.

“What the hell, Lexie?” A harsh whisper emanated from his mouth.

“I’m fine.” It was what Lexie wanted to say but her mouth couldn’t form the words properly. Her eyes could barely stay open as they held his. “Everything’s fine.”

Tate’s eyes were a pale green, so iridescent they almost seemed to glow. How did she never notice before?

“I need to stop the bleeding.” Tate’s voice was harried, tight and high. Lexie felt his palms pressing down on her abdomen "Why…why did you do that? You shouldn’t have…I was finally going to…God, it won’t stop. Why?”

"Yeah, you’re right." She shouldn’t have gotten involved. And maybe he shouldn't have provoked Robbie either. But that was all moot now. She was dying and it was mostly her fault.

The hints throughout the day became clear. It all started with that damn coke can. It unearthed everything else that she’d buried deep and tried not to think about. Her guilt. Her anger at herself and her parents. Her need to prove to herself that maybe somewhere deep inside, another–better–Lexie existed.

All that led to this point.

The words were fighting with her breaths but she needed to get the last bit out. "I’m sorry for being…coward. You should go…" Her tongue was now heavy. Vision blurry. "You know, before Robbie..." She coughed, and she heard a gurgling sound in her abdomen, followed by the pressure of hands trying to plug it.

Shit, that hurt! It hurt so bad. What was she trying to say again?

“Phone…” The phone was evidence. He should get it before Robbie could or Tate might get framed for the crime. Even with the one viewer who saw everything. Robbie’s dad was a senator after all.

“Lexie, don’t speak.” His voice was firm. His hand tightly pressed down on her stomach. "And don’t…Just don't."

Don’t what? Die? She wondered as life bubbled in her chest, pain flooding her nerves, and her eyes slid shut. Not really my choice here buddy.

That last thought drifted into the wind. She was too tired to think anymore. All that surrounded her was pain and noises and someone grabbing her shoulders, and yelling from far away.

Despite how it all turned out though, Lexie wasn’t too upset. At least she got to go out on her own terms and not in a lame way, keeling over an SAT textbook or something. This wasn't a bad way to go, all things considered.

Though it was stupid, it was nice to actually do what she wanted for a change. To be a different person and do the brave thing, not the sensible thing.

I might have actually saved a life today. Maybe because of her, someone else was alive. That was good enough.

Well, it had to be good enough now, seeing as how she was dying and all.

Sirens echoed in her ears but she didn’t know if it was her imagination. She saw a bright white light.

And with that anticlimactic act of heroism, Lexie died.