FALLOUT PART2

The morning sunlight streamed through the classroom windows, casting a warm, golden glow. A gentle buzz of chatter filled the air, accompanied by the soft rustle of papers and pens. Up front, Mrs. Westwood was wrapping up a list of formulas from yesterday's lesson on the board.

But Elise was lost in her own thoughts.

She sat stiffly at her desk, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, focused on the front of the class. Her face was a mask of concentration, but there was definitely something simmering just beneath the surface.

Mrs. Remira turned around, beaming.

"I have to say," she started, flipping through a neat stack of assignments. "One submission really caught my eye. Delilah Reed, you've truly outdone yourself. The clarity, the equations, and the way you broke down the concepts… I didn't expect such articulation. Was it all your own work?"

Delilah, sitting by the windows, blinked in surprise. "Uh… y-yes, ma'am."

The teacher nodded approvingly. "Very impressive. You've really raised the bar."

A few whispers floated around the room. Someone clapped softly, and a classmate nudged Delilah, whispering something with a playful grin.

Across the room, Elise's eyes narrowed just a bit.

At first, she didn't say a word. Instead, she looked down at her hands, neatly folded on the desk. Her mind was racing.

Solo effort?

That… didn't seem right. Did it?

She could recall the assignment vividly. It was hers, every word penned by her, every calculation double-checked. She had only asked Sylvester to turn it in for her. Delilah hadn't even laid eyes on it. Sure, she had helped with a couple of formulas in the library the week before, but that was the extent of it.

Elise stayed quiet, at least for the moment. But the tension in her chest was building, like a spring ready to snap.

Later that day, during lunch, I spotted her leaning against the courtyard railing. The sky was a soft canvas of clouds, and a gentle breeze danced around the hem of her skirt.

"Elise," I said casually, walking up with a carton of milk in hand.

She didn't look up.

"Did you hear about Delilah's assignment?" I continued, settling in next to her. "Mrs. Westwood said she nailed it."

She gave a slight nod.

"She mentioned it was a solo effort." Her tone was icy, almost distant.

I tilted my head, pretending to ponder it too. "That's strange… I thought you were the one who submitted it?"

"I did."

I let out a soft, contemplative hum. "Maybe the teacher just mixed things up. Or… I don't know. What if Delilah accidentally submitted both?"

I noticed her brow twitch.

"…What are you implying?"

I gave her a slow shrug. "Nothing much. Just thinking out loud. You two have been so close lately… maybe the lines have blurred a bit. Maybe she thought it wouldn't matter. Or—" I paused, as if the thought had just hit me, "—maybe she thought she deserved the credit."

Elise turned her face slightly, just enough to conceal her expression.

"Anyway," I added, pushing off the railing with a casual grin, "I'm probably just overthinking things. I'm sure it's nothing."

And I left her there, staring blankly at the courtyard as a tiny crack began to form in the shiny surface of trust.

By the time the last period ended, that crack had started to widen.

I watched Elise approach Delilah just outside the classroom. Her posture was tense, arms crossed, gaze sharp. Delilah lit up when she saw her but that glow faded quickly when she caught sight of Elise's expression.

"Elise? Is something wrong?"

"Can I ask you something?" Elise replied, her voice flat.

"…Sure?"

Elise locked eyes with her.

"Did you submit your physics assignment the other day?"

Delilah frowned, looking puzzled. "Yeah. Why?"

"…Did you also submit mine?"

Now Delilah looked completely confused.

"No? Why would I…? You asked Sylvester to do that, didn't you?"

There was a pause.

"Mrs. Westwood had some nice things to say about you today. She mentioned that what you turned in was 'far more advanced than expected' and called it a solo effort."

Delilah blinked in surprise. "Wait, what? I—I have no idea why she would say that. I didn't tell her anything like that."

"Really?" Elise replied softly, her tone laced with skepticism. "Because it sounded like you were taking credit for it."

Delilah's voice rose defensively. "I didn't even glance at your paper! I just submitted mine. Do you really think I'd lie about something so trivial?"

"You tell me," Elise shot back, her voice icy.

A tense silence hung in the air before anger flashed across Delilah's face.

"Is that really how you see me? That I'd steal your work and brag about it?"

Elise didn't flinch at the accusation.

"I think," she said, turning away, "you're either lying… or you're not as smart as I thought."

Delilah gasped softly, taken aback.

But Elise was already striding away.

Rumors don't need wings when whispers are enough.

The next day, the classroom was alive with chatter. Little comments floated around, side-eyes were exchanged, and lingering glances were shared.

"Did you hear? Delilah took credit for Elise's work."

"Really? I thought they were best friends now."

"Figures. Always acting like she's so sweet."

Delilah sat by herself at her desk, her smile completely vanished. Her fingers were tightly gripping her pencil, but her paper remained blank. As I walked past her desk, I paused just long enough to "accidentally" drop my eraser.

While I bent down to pick it up, I whispered just loud enough for her to catch:

"Should've made it clearer whose paper it was."

She looked up, her eyes wide with surprise. But I had already moved on.

That night, the campus was eerily quiet. The dorm windows flickered with the occasional light, and everything felt still.

I had slipped out for a drink from the vending machine, savoring the peace.

That's when I spotted her.

Delilah. Walking briskly. Shoulders tense. Her eyes darting ahead as if she were trying to catch thoughts that kept slipping away.

Intrigued, I followed her.

She didn't see me. Or maybe she just didn't care.

She made her way to the far edge of campus where the old lake lay like a pool of dark ink. The moon cast shimmering silver streaks across its surface.

Delilah stood at the water's edge, her fists clenched.

Then out of nowhere she screamed.

"Goddammit!" She kicked a nearby pole with enough force to make it echo. "Why the hell is she blaming me for this crap?! I didn't even do anything!"

She shouted again, her voice cracking under the weight of her frustration.

"I tried! I was just trying to be nice for once—"

A sudden noise.

My soda slipped from my hand, crashing loudly against the gravel.

Delilah froze and spun around.

"Who's there?!"

I stepped forward. "Sorry. Just me."

She stared at me, wide-eyed.

"What… what are you doing here?"

"Just thirsty," I replied casually. "Didn't mean to eavesdrop."

Her shoulders relaxed a bit, but then her expression sharpened.

"…You heard that, didn't you."

I nodded slightly.

Delilah took a step closer, tense.

"You say a word of this—"

"What?" I raised an eyebrow. "You'll tell everyone I listened to you vent?"

She flinched at my words.

"Or maybe," I added, stepping closer, "you'll claim I set you up."

"…Didn't you?"

I tilted my head, intrigued.

"Why would I? You and Elise were doing great. Everyone thought you were the perfect couple."

Delilah stayed silent.

"Let me guess," I said, lowering my voice to a calm tone, "now Elise won't even look at you. Everyone's whispering, and you feel like you're the only one left in the dark."

She swallowed hard. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

I offered a faint smile. "Not really. I just find it fascinating how quickly things can unravel."

Delilah's voice shook. "If I find out this was you if I get proof I'll make sure everyone knows."

I leaned in slightly.

"You think they'd believe you?" I asked quietly. "You? Or the quiet, helpful boy who just got in the school late lurking in the background?"

She froze again.

"Face it," I said, standing tall. "I don't need to hurt you, Delilah. You're doing a fine job of that on your own."

Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

I turned and walked away.

Behind me, the only sounds were the wind and the gentle lapping of the lake.

And just like that… one tiny crack turned into a full-blown break. Now, all it needs is just a bit of pressure.