The Aftermath Of A Night To Remember

Monday morning brought a strange calm after the storm of Friday's charity game. Ridgeway High was abuzz with post-game chatter, and for once, Mia Anderson wasn't entirely invisible in the hallways. People who'd never spoken to her before were suddenly smiling and waving. It felt surreal—and mildly unsettling.

"Good morning, Superstar!" Claire greeted, sliding into her seat next to Mia in homeroom.

Mia groaned, resting her forehead on her desk. "Don't start, Claire."

"Too late," Claire said with a grin. "You were practically glowing Friday night. Admit it, you had fun."

Mia lifted her head just enough to glare at her best friend. "It wasn't *terrible,* but let's not make it a habit, okay?"

"Sure, sure," Claire said, not bothering to hide her smirk. "But seriously, everyone's talking about the game. And *you* were part of it! You're practically a celebrity now."

Mia rolled her eyes. "Great. That's exactly what I wanted—to be known as 'that girl who helped Dylan Westwood.'"

"Hey, speaking of Dylan..." Claire leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Did you see the school blog this morning?"

Mia frowned. "No. Why?"

Claire pulled out her phone and slid it across the desk. On the screen was an article titled: *"Ridgeway's Golden Boy Finds His Match?"* Beneath the headline was a photo of Dylan and Mia from Friday night—Dylan in his ridiculous '80s uniform, grinning like a maniac, and Mia looking thoroughly unimpressed.

"You've got to be kidding me," Mia muttered, scrolling through the article.

The piece was filled with wild speculation about Mia and Dylan's "close bond," complete with quotes from anonymous students claiming to have seen them "sneaking off together" during the game. It painted a picture of a budding romance straight out of a teen drama.

"This is ridiculous," Mia said, shoving the phone back at Claire. "There's nothing going on between us!"

"Relax," Claire said, barely suppressing a laugh. "It's just gossip. No one takes the school blog seriously."

"Tell that to the people who've been staring at me all morning," Mia grumbled.

Claire shrugged. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, Dylan probably doesn't care. He's used to this kind of thing."

Mia wasn't so sure. Dylan might be the king of Ridgeway High, but even he had to have his limits. And if this rumor got out of hand... well, it wouldn't be the first time her association with him had caused her problems.

---

By lunchtime, the rumors had only grown louder. Mia couldn't walk five steps without overhearing someone whispering her name.

"Did you hear? Apparently, Mia and Dylan have been secretly dating for weeks."

"I heard he kissed her after the game!"

"Do you think she's the reason he's been acting so different lately?"

Mia slammed her locker shut and took a deep breath. She didn't ask for any of this—she hadn't even wanted to get involved in the charity game in the first place. All she wanted now was for everything to go back to normal.

Unfortunately, normal seemed like a distant dream.

"Mia!"

She turned to see Dylan jogging toward her, his usual confident grin firmly in place. The crowd in the hallway parted like the Red Sea, every pair of eyes fixed on them.

"Just what I need," Mia muttered under her breath.

"Hey," Dylan said, stopping a few feet away. "Can we talk?"

Mia folded her arms. "If this is about the blog—"

"It's not," Dylan interrupted, though his grin faltered slightly. "Well, okay, maybe it is. But only because I wanted to say I'm sorry."

Mia blinked. "You're... apologizing?"

"Yeah," Dylan said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I thought the game would just be a fun distraction, but now people are blowing everything out of proportion. I know you didn't sign up for this, and I'm sorry for dragging you into it."

Mia studied him for a moment, surprised by his sincerity. "It's not your fault," she said finally. "People love to gossip—it's what they do. I just wish they'd find someone else to talk about."

"Me too," Dylan said with a chuckle. "But, hey, if it makes you feel any better, I've been dealing with this kind of thing for years. It'll blow over in a week, tops."

Mia wasn't convinced, but she nodded anyway. "Thanks, I guess."

"Anytime," Dylan said, his grin returning. "Oh, and one more thing—"

Before Mia could respond, Dylan stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You looked amazing Friday night. Just thought you should know."

Mia's cheeks burned as Dylan turned and walked away, leaving her standing in the middle of the hallway, completely and utterly flustered.

---

By the time school let out, Mia was more than ready to retreat to the safety of her house. Unfortunately, Claire had other plans.

"We need to debrief," Claire announced as they walked to Mia's car.

"Debrief about what?" Mia asked, unlocking the doors.

"About Dylan, obviously!" Claire said, sliding into the passenger seat. "You can't just brush off what happened today. He was totally flirting with you!"

"He was not," Mia said, starting the engine.

"Please," Claire said, rolling her eyes. "The way he looked at you during the game? The way he came to find you today? He's *into* you, Mia."

"Even if he is—which he's not—it doesn't matter," Mia said firmly. "I'm not interested in becoming part of his fan club."

"Who said anything about a fan club?" Claire said with a grin. "I'm just saying, maybe you should give him a chance."

Mia shook her head. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"And you're in denial," Claire shot back.

They bickered all the way to Mia's house, but as much as Mia tried to push Claire's words out of her mind, they lingered. Was Dylan really flirting with her? And if he was... what did that mean for her carefully constructed walls?

---

That night, Mia lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she reached for it, half-expecting another message from Claire.

Instead, it was from Dylan.

Dylan: Hey, just wanted to say thanks again for helping out with the game. I couldn't have done it without you.*

Mia hesitated before typing a reply.

Mia: It was for a good cause. Don't get used to it.*

She set the phone down, but it buzzed again almost immediately.

Dylan: Fair enough. But if you ever need anything, you know where to find me.*

Mia stared at the screen, her heart doing an annoying little flip. She told herself it didn't mean anything—that Dylan Westwood was just being his usual charming self.

But as she turned off her phone and tried to fall asleep, she couldn't shake the feeling that her life was about to get a whole lot more complicated.