His Invisible Obsession

Mira’s pov 

“The blue one or the black one?” I held up both dresses to my phone camera.

“I can’t believe Chloe invited you to her party,” Elma squinted at the screen. “Blue. It makes your eyes pop.”

“My eyes are brown.”

“Okay, fine. It makes your boobs look amazing.”

I stuck my tongue out at the camera.

“I thought I was dreaming, but the invite is still here, Ellie. I’m looking at it.” I threw the black dress on the bed and slipped into the blue one. The fabric clung to my skin. I pulled the hem down, but it rode back up my thighs.

"This is too tight, and my thighs are showing. Do you think it's too much? It's too much, right?" I tugged at the fabric. "Maybe I should just wear jeans."

“You look hot.” She grinned, her face filling the entire screen as she leaned closer. “I’m serious. It’s perfect. You look amazing.”

Hearing it from her somehow made my chest loosen a little. She always knew when something was wrong, even when I tried to hide it.

I turned to the large mirror my mother had gotten from the dollar store years ago, back when she still bothered replacing broken things. My hands moved down my stomach, I sucked in a breath and held, the way I used to before stepping on the scale at doctor's appointments, even though I knew it wouldn't change anything.

"M, you're going to have the best night. I can feel it."

I wanted to believe her. She'd been saying things like that since my dad left, and somehow it always sounded true coming from her mouth. Like the time I bled through my shorts in gym class and wanted to die, and she just tied her hoodie around my waist like it was nothing.

"But what if…" I sat on the edge of my bed, picking at a loose thread on the comforter.

"You're going to have the best time." Her voice softened. "I wish I were there. All the popular guys in school would be there." She giggled, covering her mouth.

"I'm going to have the best night ever." I looked at the invitation on my desk, my name written in bold letters.

“That’s my girl. Now show me the shoes.”

Montclair Avenue was one of the richest neighborhoods in New Jersey, right after Willowbrook Crescent. Every house had gates taller than my front door and lawns that looked like someone trimmed them with scissors. The kind of place you see in movies and think, Yeah, right, nobody actually lives like this.

The Uber pulled away behind me, and I stood at Chloe's gate, my palms already sweating. I'd pulled twenty dollars from my savings to get here. I could've taken the bus for three, but I couldn't show up to Chloe Bennett's party smelling like public transit.

I took a deep breath and stepped into the compound that had perfectly trimmed white flowers I couldn't name lining the pathway, and butterflies on them moved like paid dancers. I stopped to savor the view but was interrupted by voices from the other corner, and luckily, no one noticed me pass.

This was insane. I paused at the door.

"Maybe I should go back home," I texted Elma, glancing around.

The fat ginger-haired girl at a party full of people who made my life hell. I'd been questioning this decision ever since I said yes to Chloe’s invite, even though she had been so nice to me lately, and for the first time in forever, people stopped staring at me like I was a clown.

But being in the same space with a lot of people who loved to bully me? I wasn't sure I could handle that.

“Take a deep breath, M. The party is going to be worth it. Can’t wait to hear every gist. Love ya.”

I read Elma’s text three times before I shoved my phone in my bag.

Easy for her to say. She wasn’t the one standing outside Bennett’s house with sweaty palms and a stomach doing flips.

My hand lifted toward the door, but I hesitated, taking a few more breaths to steady my heart that felt like it wanted to jump out of my chest.

'Just knock, Mirabel. Knock.'

The door swung open even before I could.

I plastered on my biggest smile.

One of Chloe’s friends Kem stood there. Her eyes travelled from my face to my shoes and back up again, like she was trying to figure out if I was lost.

Her mouth opened, then it closed.

I tried to form some kind of greeting before she slammed the door in my face.

The bang echoed in my chest, and I stood there frozen. My face went hot, and for a second, I couldn't breathe.

I pulled out the invitation with shaking hands, double-checking the address even though I knew I was at the right place.

My fingers hovered over my phone in my bag, ready to text Elma that I was going home, that this whole thing had been a mistake from the start.

Then the door opened again.

I shoved the phone back in my bag.

"Hi, Mira! Come on in," Chloe opened the door wide, wearing that smile that could sell toothpaste. “I thought you wouldn't make it.”

I stepped inside, and the suddenly loud music made my ears ring, voices and laughter piling on top of each other. I wasn't used to this many people crammed into one space, as if they were all competing to be heard. My chest tightened, and I had to remind myself to breathe, to not look as overwhelmed as I felt.

"Thank you for inviting me." My voice barely made it over the music.

"Of course! Come on." She waved a hand like it was nothing.

She led me into the living room, and I tried not to stare too much. The color-changing lights cycled between blue and red, casting everyone in this dreamy glow.

"Everyone, Mira is here!" Chloe announced, her arm gesturing toward me.

A few people glanced over, and most of them kept doing whatever they were doing before I walked in.

I stood there, smiling, waiting for someone to say something, but no one did.

"There's food and drinks in the corner. Help yourself to whatever you want, okay? I'll be right back." She squeezed my shoulder, and then she was gone, disappearing into the crowd.

And I was alone.

I tugged at my sleeves, suddenly hyperaware of how I was standing, where my hands were, and whether I looked as uncomfortable as I felt. The music was louder now, or maybe it just felt that way because I had nothing else to focus on.

I made my way toward the corner where Chloe had pointed, keeping my eyes down, trying to look like I had somewhere to be.

And that’s when I saw him.

Everything else disappeared the second he walked in from the back door. He had on a black vest that showed off his arms and shoulders, and his dark hair fell across his forehead the way it always did, messy but somehow perfect. He was laughing at something someone said, and my chest squeezed tight.

It’s been four years since he transferred here, and I still feel like this. I couldn’t even look at him without my heart doing something weird, and I hated that I wasn’t able to stop staring.

“Hey, freak.”

The voice came out of nowhere, and I jumped, spinning around too fast, and my shoulder slammed into someone hard enough that I lost my balance. My bag slipped off my shoulder and hit the floor.

The contents spilled everywhere. My lip gloss, phone, hair clip.

And the keychain.

Nat's locker key with his face on it, the custom photo keychain staring up at everyone like evidence of exactly how pathetic I was. And then I saw Nat himself, looking right at me.