Everything hurt.

There was a deep throbbing… no, pounding… in her brain.

Lizzie swallowed, and winced. Her saliva grinding down her throat like sandpaper. She grasped for water, only to find her usual cup empty.

Getting up and heading to the bathroom was a nontrivial matter in itself.

Her legs wobbled beneath her. It was only with one hand on the wall and the other on her forehead that she slowly staggered down the hallway.

The lights glared into her eyes, and she had to crawl the last few steps to the faucet. Lapping like a dog, the cool water trickled down her sore throat.

It brought little relief to her head, but allowed her to travel downstairs, where she began digging through the medicine cabinet.

"Lizzie?"

She jerked upright at the sound of her mom’s voice.

"What’s going on, why are you up so early?" Her mom was still dressed in her night gown, rubbing her eyes as she looked at her.

"I… I have a headache," she finally said, turning around.

Lizzie froze. Even with her head down, she could feel her mom’s watchful eyes scan her up and down.

Guilt was written all over her body. Lizzie bit her lip, a million thoughts ran through her head.

It’d been stupid to go to that stupid party. Why had she been so stupid?

Now her mom was going to find out and then…

She felt a hand on her forehead.

"You have a bit of a fever, but it doesn’t seem too bad. Does anything else hurt?"

Lizzie shook her head.

"Here, I’ll get you some Tylenol and you can go back to rest."

Her mom retrieved it, handing two small pills along with a glass of warm water, which Lizzie graciously accepted.

As they headed back upstairs, she could still feel her mom’s watchful gaze on her. "I’m okay now."

"I know, but before you go back to bed, I think… I think you might want to change."

Only then did Lizzie become aware of the slight dampness around her. Her hands shot to her waist, where to her horror she felt a few wet patches.

"I…!" Lizzie started.

"Shh, it’s okay. It’s only a little bit. I know you didn’t do it on purpose and I can see that you’re wearing your protection underneath. It happens, and especially because of your fever you probably just didn’t notice. How about you go change and I’ll make sure nothing got on your sheets?"

Not needing to be told twice, Lizzie scampered to the bathroom. All the while cursing at herself.

How could she have not even noticed? The wet patches against her skin were now painfully obvious. The more she thought about it the more outrageous it seemed.

Things only got worse as she realized the fact that she'd wet twice in a night.

It had to have been because of the alcohol. There's no way I would've wet while wide awake.

Even she knew that argument was flawed, having just wet not even a week prior in front of Madison.

But that was because I was stuck in my sleeper.

The mental debate continued on until she stamped it out, bundling it together with her wet goodnight and tossing it all into the trash.

She decided to just be thankful to have pre-installed the insert, otherwise who knows how bad she would’ve leaked.

Returning to her room, her mom had already finished changing out the sheets.

"Don’t worry, only a bit got onto your covers. I also changed your sheets just to be safe. But please put on a goodnite for your nap too."

"I already did," Lizzie half-whispered half-sighed, pained by the fact that she'd done so automatically. She crawled into bed, before quickly adding, "thanks."

"Goodnight Lizzie, I hope you feel better soon."

***

"Are you sure you’re okay for the tournament?"

"Yes mom, I’m fine," Lizzie said for what must’ve been the fourteenth time that morning as she scrambled to get ready.

Today was finally the big day, and Lizzie was oh-so-stressed.

From the chaos of the week, she’d nearly forgotten about the tournament until her mom had asked her the day before if she'd still be able to participate.

But after a bowl of her mom’s special get-well soup, her headache had quickly faded, and she’d spent the remainder of the afternoon and night grinding out games.

She was playing well, surprisingly well, but that only added to her stress.

As they drove to the event, she was already psyching herself out. What if she didn't win a single game? What if she sat down at the wrong table and didn’t notice? What if she forgot to hit the clock?

The anxiety wasn’t doing her bladder any favors. She’d woken up this morning wet, again — thankfully without leaking this time — and she’d already gone to the bathroom twice more before leaving.

What was the format going to be like?

It would be six rounds, played in a fifteen plus ten time control. She'd read through the brochure so many times by now that she'd practically memorized it.

"Good luck on the tournament, you got this soldier! I'll be waiting to hear the good news!" Her father's short video played through her earbuds as she stared out the window.

"I hope so."

They arrived, and after a few minutes of searching, managed to find some parking. The university was large, and they scrambled to find the event room.

When they finally found the venue, she was happy to see Mr. Henning’s waiting by the door.

She turned to look at her mom. "Good luck," Jennifer said simply.

"Thanks," Lizzie nodded, before rushing off.

"There you are! So glad you made it." Mr. Henning's said. "How are you feeling?"

"Stressed," she admitted.

"I’d be surprised if you weren’t!" He chuckled. "Don’t stress too much though, it’s important just to have some fun!"

"Where’s Madison?" The words escaped her mouth before she could stop them.

"She checked in a few minutes earlier, I think she already went to sit down. Let’s get you signed in as well, the first round is starting soon!"

A little while later, Lizzie found herself sitting at her table, twiddling her thumbs and glancing around.

There were a mix of people in the venue. Some looked just as worried as she was, if not more so. But others seemed nonchalant, as if this was just any other day.

She stared at the clock to her side. It seemed simple enough, not unlike the one Madison had given her.

Madison.

The thought alone left a bitter taste in her mouth. Yet she couldn’t help but wonder where her ex-friend was. The massive hall made finding her impossible. She hadn't seen her since Friday, had she been preparing all weekend?

Lizzie shook her head, just in time as her opponent sat down opposite of her.

"I’m Dustin," the boy said, smiling as he saw her.

"Uhh… Lizzie."

"So you ready to get this over with?" The scrawny boy asked. His smile curling into what looked like a smirk.

"Sure?" The look irked her. It exuded far too much confidence, and she was about to wipe that smugness off his face.

She played her first move, e4. Her opponent responded with c5, the Sicilian.

Lizzie bit her lip. It was the opening notorious known for its complex and endless variations at the professional level. However, she’d come to learn from her online games that it was a noob trap. An opening that many beginners played simply because they found it in a Google search for strongest openings, without understanding its depth.

She decided to test her opponent, playing the line she’d played against Mr. Henning’s — d4, the Smith Morra was on the board.

Her opponent paused, thinking for a few seconds before playing knight to f6.

Lizzie couldn’t help but smirk herself.

Without hesitation, she pushed her e-pawn, gaining space in the center while at the same time kicking her opponent's knight around.

The opening quickly flew by. She continued chasing the knight, seizing the tempo advantage and getting her pieces developed while her opponent struggled to maneuver.

Eventually, he was able to castle safely, but she kept her cool. While he focused on fortifying his kingside, she pushed forward on the queenside with her pawns, limiting her opponent's movements.

Lizzie pushed another pawn, and glanced up. Her opponent’s previously cocky expression was gone. Dustin’s hands were on his forehead, ruining his overly gelled hair as he sank into a deep-think.

By the time he finally moved, his time was down to less than a minute. However, the boy didn’t give up. Not that Lizzie minded, her position was winning, and she knew exactly how to convert.

She set up her rook and queen behind her b- and c-pawns, and continued advancing them like a knife into her opponent’s side.

Dustin soon seemed to realize the direness of the situation, sacrificing a knight to stop her advancement. However, the a-pawn soon joined the force, renewing the push.

Her opponent sacrificed yet another piece. If she’d been in his position online, she would’ve resigned by now, after all, the lead was insurmountable.

Dustin glanced up, the two locked eyes. His brow furrowed, seemingly refusing to admit defeat.

Lizzie shrugged, she’d faced plenty of such opponents online. The moves practically played themselves as she maneuvered her pieces, shifting focus to the kingside. Her opponent was forced to choose between getting checkmated or allowing her to promote. He sacrificed another piece, but a few more moves went by and mate was on the board.

"Good game," Dustin finally said, shaking his head and standing up.

Lizzie watched his outstretched hand for a few seconds before shaking it.

"Good game," she squealed as the boy nearly crushed her hand.

She headed over to submit the result, before returning to the tables. Several games were still in progress, so she paced about, watching a few random boards as she waited for the next round.

It was only a few minutes later when the realization hit her.

She’d won her first game!

At the very least, she already had something to show for the tournament. All her effort hadn't been in vein, and she felt a weight lift off her chest.

With that, Lizzie realized she both wanted to pee and get a drink.

The bathroom was more urgent. Thankfully, she found one within a few minutes, making a mental note of its location.

Afterwards, she went to a vending machine she’d seen earlier. Using the money her mom had given her for snacks, she bought herself a grape Fanta.

She then went to find her and tell her the good news, before heading back to the playing area to check her next opponent. With a little time left, she paced around. Oddly enough, she hadn't seen Madison or her parents anywhere.

With drink in hand, Lizzie was confident moving into the second round. Her opponent, Amanda, looked far more stressed.

They soon found themselves in a typical Queen’s Gambit. However, her opponent began spending a lot of time before playing simple, borderline obvious, moves, and soon Lizzie realized her opponent was down to thirty seconds on the clock.

With that in mind, she declined an exchange of queens, instead continuing to complicate the position by keeping the tension in the middle.

Her opponent continued to think deeply, and only when she fell under ten seconds did she seem to notice her time trouble.

Despite the increment, Lizzie noticed the sweat forming on Amanda’s brow as she struggled to play quickly.

Lizzie took her time, making sure to calculate the lines in the complex position. And soon, she found a tactic that Amanda had missed: a four move sequence that would leave her up a clean piece.

With conviction, she sacrificed the exchange, a move that left her opponent staring at the board.

Amanda eventually moved her piece, but not before her clock ran out, and Lizzie motioned at it.

"Dang, not again…" Amanda sighed. "Good game, you’re really good, what elo are you?"

"Um, I don’t actually know. I only really played online."

"This is your first tournament?"

Amanda looked at her nod with disbelief.

"But you looked so composed! I’ve only been to a few, but as you could probably tell I get super stressed."

The two continued chatting as they went to report the result, debriefing the game.

"You’re right, I probably should’ve tried harder to simplify. My time management is just pretty poor overall."

"Well you mentioned you usually play classical so it makes sense. Maybe you just need to practice more rapid online."

"Speaking of which, did you want to add me? I would love to play sometime, no pressure though!" The girl blushed as she held out her phone.

"Oh, sure!" Lizzie beamed, who knew chess tournaments could be this fun?

The next two rounds flew by. Her opponents were decently strong, but both had fatal flaws.

The first was overly aggressive, gambitting multiple pawns and committing to an early kingside attack. A few calculated trades fizzled out his momentum, and the material advantage proved overwhelming in the endgame as Lizzie got an unstoppable path to promotion.

Funnily enough, her next opponent was practically the opposite. He had opened with the French Defense, but failed to generate any pressure against her dominant center as the game progressed. Lizzie quickly seized advantage, preserving her space and placing her pieces onto stronger squares, which she eventually converted into an all-out attack, leading to her fourth victory.

***

"Hey, how were your games?" Amanda asked her as they met each other at the results table.

"They were intense, but I won both!"

"Dang," Amanda said as she scanned the pairings. "You were against Roger earlier? I think he’s nearly 2000!"

Lizzie blinked. The overaggressive player hadn’t seemed nearly that strong. Maybe she was better than she thought?

"How were your games?"

"Intense, but I managed to win one!"

The two chatted for a while, before Lizzie excused herself for another run to the toilet.

The venue was growing increasingly warm, and so Lizzie bought herself another Fanta before heading to her fifth game.

Her opponent, Mark, was a scrawny boy with glasses, but she knew better than to underestimate someone by their appearance.

She'd caught his game in round three, where he'd completely trapped his opponent. His style was controlled, quick but calm moves that quickly gave him an edge. By the endgame, he had more than seven minutes left on the clock while his opponent lived on increment. If she wanted to win, she'd have to play efficiently and maintain careful control of her time.

Lizzie shook her head as the announcement declared the start of the round. She took a deep breath, staring down at her white pieces. She could do this.

She played e4, her opponent responded with the Sicilian.

Lizzie was tempted to try the Smith Morra again, but something about Mark told her it was a bad idea. Instead, she responded with her second favorite line, the closed Sicilian.

However, unfazed, Mark simply continued with the main response, Nc6.

Lizzie bit her lip, briefly debating going for the Grand Prix, an aggressive attack. But he had seemed too comfortable with his moves, and she decided an all out attack wasn’t the right approach. Taking a sip of her drink, she instead decided to continue with slower development.

The two soon both castled, and with the closed position the two were began to incrementally develop their pieces as the tension on the board steadily grew.

The position was getting increasingly complex, and after several more moves, neither seemed to be making much progress. Lizzie, having stared at the board with her hands on her forehead for most of the game, finally chanced a look up at her opponent.

He seemed just as focused, frowning at the position. But to her surprise, some other tables had already finished their games, and a small group had now gathered around their table. Among them was Amanda who gave her a small wave as their eyes met.

Lizzie flashed a quick smile, but then returned to the board as Mark played his next move. The position seemed relatively even, and they had similar time remaining, but Lizzie knew the position was resting on a brink. A single false step and either player's structure would come crashing down.

The two continued to circle one another on the board, neither willing to start the attack. Or more accurately, both players had come to the realization that the first to push would overextend and lose the game.

But time began dwindling down, and as Lizzie chanced another glance at the clock, she realized she was somehow down a full minute.

With such a precarious position, the time difference could soon prove fatal. Her eyes scanned the board, looking for a weakness, anything to save her from a slow and painful defeat.

She shut her eyes, letting the lines play out in her head as her clock continued to tick down.

There!

Was she sure? No. But it was her only chance to progress the game. She pushed her b-pawn, finally going for a break in the center.

Mark paused, staring at the board. And for a moment, Lizzie thought she had him on the ropes. But after a minute, the corners of his mouth curved up.

He advanced his knight, capturing a protected pawn. A sacrifice?!

Perhaps she imagined it, but she heard a faint gasp amongst the circle that surrounded them. Lizzie cupped her face in her hands as she stared at the board.

No, it was a tactic, a complex one, and she'd missed it entirely. She'd jumped in too quickly with the break, without having set up the appropriate defenses.

But there was no time to dwell. Only one approach gave her a fighting chance. They exchanged. She got two minor pieces, but Mark got her rook and two pawns for it. It wasn't a pretty sight.

As her opponent's pawns began advancing up the board, she huddled her pieces together, attempting to form a barricade before them.

But slowly, Mark poked at her, trading down some of her pieces while his others began creeping up the board.

Time ticked down as she searched for a lifeline. A flurry of lines sped through her mind until one suddenly jumped out.

Mark had advanced his king up, hoping to help escort his extra pawns, but it was now exposed. And it was her only chance.

A counterattack. With her queen, she infiltrated his backline.

Mark frowned, putting a hand to his chin. Time ticked down as he stared at the board. The venue was silent, even the spectators seemed to hold their breath.

Finally, he played his move, pulling his queen back to defend. Lizzie smiled. It was the most logical move, and precisely her plan. Her knights jumped in, poking at Mark's pieces until she swung back with the queen, winning the most advanced pawn with check.

Mark grimaced. With little time remaining on either clock, the next moves were blitzed out. Pieces fell off the board, and when the dust finally settled, both players were left with a rook, two pawns, and opposite colored bishops. There was no more progress to be made. The game was undoubtedly a draw.

The two repeated moves, and Lizzie accepted the handshake with a small sigh of relief. "Good game."

"Well played."

A murmur rippled through the crowd as the two stood up. It was her first draw, but Lizzie was just happy to have gotten out of that game alive.

She was about to go find her mom and tell them how things were going when an announcement rang out over the speakers.

"Players we apologize for the delay. The schedule for the final round has just been posted and will begin in two minutes. As a reminder, those with at least five points automatically qualify for free entry to the regional invitational! Please be sure to pick up a form from the front desk before exiting!"

With four wins and a draw under her belt, Lizzie realized she just needed a draw or a win to qualify! She sped walked toward the desk and began scanning for her name.

Her heart began racing. What would happen if she qualified? Would she get a medal? Would she be able to brag about it at school? Would her parents be proud?

Finally finding her name, her eyes scanned across the page. Her next opponent was…

***

Madison was already seated, but stood up and extended her hand as she approached the table.

Lizzie ignored it, choosing instead to plop down in her seat.

The other girl paused for a moment, before awkwardly sitting back down. "Um… Good luck."

The two sat in silence at they waited for the arbitrator to announce the beginning of the match.

Madison fiddled with her rose-gold necklace, which stood out against her simple white blouse. An outfit she'd completed with a blush pink skirt.

Lizzie bit her lip, frustrated not by how elegant her ex-friend looked, but how she secretly envied it.

It didn’t matter. Fashion didn't win games.

The game began, and Madison opened with d4. Lizzie responded with d5. The next move, bishop f4 was a surprise to no one. The London. Madison’s favorite opening.

It was a move order she knew far too well, one they'd clashed over time and time again at the club, late into the afternoon in the dimmed classroom after the others had gone. But more than that, it was the exact opening from the very first game they'd ever played.

Memories began flooding back as Lizzie recalled the faithful choir trip that felt oh-so-long ago.

The campfire, the conversation alone together in the bathroom, the chess game, and the entire goodnite ordeal.

For one reason or another, it'd been the start of their friendship. One that led to singing karaoke, playing games, and even her first real sleepover. Whether it was working together on a project, organizing the club, or just chatting, the two had become inseparable.

Lizzie blinked, wiping the small smile that had crept onto her face.

Until she betrayed me that is. She forced herself to remember. I trusted her, and she threw it all away.

The friendship that had meant the world to her had been shattered with such a simple act. Perhaps Madison hadn't even realized what she'd done, her secret nothing more than another piece of gossip.

Just what had it all meant to her? Had it really been something so easily discarded and forgotten?

Lizzie chewed her lip as Madison finally played a move. They'd somehow found themselves in a surprisingly complex position, with tension beginning to build on the queenside as both players struggled to gain space.

After a think, Madison offered a trade of queens. A trade that would likely lead to several others, and a near-certainly drawn position.

A draw. It would be enough to qualify her for the regional tournament, and by all means, it was the right move.

But just as her hand was about to pick up her queen, Lizzie paused. Given that they were in the same match, they had the same round score. Which meant that a draw would mean Madison would reach the regionals as well. Mr. Henning's would be overjoyed, perhaps the entire club would come to watch as well.

The club.

Through long grueling hours, the two had raised it from nothing. From the first meet — where students had shown up just to ridicule their nerdiness — to now running multiple events a week, with so many members they'd had to buy additional sets.

And it couldn’t have happened without Madison. She had handled all of the paperwork. She had picked her up when she had been too afraid to continue. And she, despite her other club activities, had always been there to stand by her side and promote their events together.

Yet…

Lizzie bit her lip, picking up her queen, moving it away instead of capturing.

Her opponent didn’t give up that easily, following with her queen, once again offering the trade.

"Draw?" Madison asked.

"No," Lizzie said, clenching the word between her teeth as she retreated her queen back to safety.

Her opponent’s brows furrowed as she rested her chin on her hands, eyes locked on the board.

The game drew on, a couple pawns and a pair of knights were exchanged, but otherwise both players were simply maneuvering pieces, like fighters circling in an arena, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

It was her second closed position of the day, and the long day of games was beginning to weigh on her.

More shuffling, more waiting.

Lizzie eyed her queenside, at the move she'd been thinking about all match. The move that would set everything in motion. But with the previous game still fresh in her mind, she wasn't about to play it prematurely.

Both of them continued playing quickly, making simple improving moves. But Madison was quicker, and had somehow gotten a significant time lead, at seven minutes to her four and a half.

She began squirming in her seat as the two continued. And it was only a few moves later that she noticed the pressure building between her legs.

The Fanta had made its way through her system.

Lizzie glanced at the door, if she ran, at best she would make it back with seconds to spare, which would all but guarantee a loss. Yet she'd declined the draw offer, and now she refused to offer one back.

That left her with only one option. She stopped for a short think, pieces flying over the board in her head as she calculated the lines to her limit.

It was time. Lizzie pushed, offering a free pawn. Madison frowned, but moved her queen forward to capture.

But it was all part of the plan. Lizzie pushed her another pawn forward. It was time to attack. It was time to win.

Madison's brows furrowed, an expression that brought a smirk onto her own.

Pushing her kingside pawns on top of sacrificing a pawn was risky, but she'd been eyeing this play the entire game. It was unexpected, and she was confident Madison would burn a lot of time on it.

And burn she did, as the girl stopped to ponder her position. Unfortunately, Lizzie soon realized a flaw in her plan. As the seconds continued ticking away, the pressure in her bladder continued to mount.

She crossed her legs, images of her first chess tournament flooded to her mind, as she began fidgeting in her seat.

Madison eventually moved, retreating her bishop to help with the defense. With no time to hesitate, Lizzie quickly continued her plan, moving forward in an all-out attack.

All of her pieces shifted to the kingside, aiming toward Madison’s king, seizing the opportunity while her opponent's queen was stuck on the other side of the board.

More pondering, and Madison’s time advantage shrunk as she tried to maneuver her queen back.

Lizzie sacrificed the exchange. A move that brought their time back to even.

With all her pieces aimed at the king, Lizzie was confident she had the advantage, sacrificing a bishop for a pawn.

Mate in seven. The line was as clear as could be. Madison would be forced to capture her piece, allowing Lizzie's queen to infiltrate, and together with her remaining pieces, the king had nowhere to run. She smiled as she watched her opponent pause to think, ready to savor the moment…

Fuck.

She saw the move just moments before it was played. Rather than accepting her sacrifice, Madison moved her queen forward to check.

To an unknowing observer, the check might've seemed harmless, but the simple move had crumbled her entire calculation. Madison’s queen now had a route back to the kingside, meaning it could help defend against the attack, and open an escape route for her king.

Sweat began beading on her forehead as Lizzie recalculated the lines, but in all of them, the king would barely slip away. Then, down the material advantage, her loss would be slow but inevitable.

Lizzie bit her lip, hoping her opponent would make a mistake or somehow run out of time. But as she threw her first two checks, Madison responded instantly. It was clear she knew what to do.

Lizzie clenched her fist as her bladder shot another reminder throughout her body. She clutched her stomach, nails digging into her skin. She wanted to yell, to scream at the divine powers that had cursed her to suffer. She wanted to claw it out, rid herself of the thing that had haunted her every day of her life.

But she couldn't. Instead, she was forced to sit there, staring at the board in front of her.

Down a full rook, the game was as good as over. She made another check, before burying her head in her hands. It was over, she would forfeit on the next move.

However, that move didn’t come quickly, as Madison paused to think, her time falling under a minute.

Lizzie gritted her teeth, why couldn’t she just end her misery? Was she really going to make her say it? She put her hands down, clutching her legs to prevent them from shaking as her body neared its breaking point.

Just as she was about to forfeit Madison played a move.

"Draw?" she asked, extending her hand.

Before her conscious mind could react, Lizzie nodded, shook her hand, stopped the clock, and sprinted off.

Her bladder screamed as she staggered into the stall, hardly giving her time to sit before the pee bursted out.

Lizzie let out a loud sigh as she felt herself deflating. She sat there for minutes after finishing, her mind struggling to process the events.

Why had she offered a draw in a completely winning position?

There was only one conclusion, and the more she thought about it the angrier it made her.

Storming out of the bathroom, she turned a corner, only to see Madison on her phone at the end of a hallway, waiting for her.

A heat rose within her. "Oh, so offering the draw wasn’t enough? You had to follow me to the restroom too? What, are you here to gloat?"

"Woah, woah. What?"

"I know what you did. What, did you pity me? Or was it some half-assed way of apologizing? Because I’ll tell you what. I do not accept your apology. I will never accept your apology. In fact, I’m going to tell the arbitrator that it was your win. Go ahead, go to the regional tournament by yourself. Fuck the chess club anyways, ‘cause you know what? I quit!"

Madison's eyes were wide, mouth agape.

"What? You're just going to stand there and not say anything?" She took a step toward her, causing Madison to hold up her hands, taking a step back.

"Lizzie, please calm down. I can tell that you’re angry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Lizzie threw up her hands, her vision becoming blurry as tears began forming in her eyes.

"Stop acting stupid! Unlike all the other fools at school, I know your innocent act when I see it. I know you could tell I was about to wet myself so you offered the draw on purpose.

"What? You think just because I’m a bedwetter I can’t hold it in? I’ll have you know that I am perfectly fine. So go mind your own fucking business.

"And fuck you for revealing my secret, and fuck me for ever trusting you in the first place. I never should've—"

"It was a draw!" Madison blurted. "You had perpetual check with your queen!"

"What?" Lizzie blinked.

"You had perpetual! Queen h1 and e4. My king has nowhere to run because if I try to go to d1, my queen gets forked. So I have to keep blocking with my bishop. It’s perpetual check."

The board materialized in her head as Lizzie followed along with the moves, slowly coming to the realization that she was right.

"Then—"

"I… I don't fully understand everything else you said. But I know things have been distant between us lately. And I’m sorry I’ve been too busy to talk to you sooner.

"That’s actually why I’m here, I wanted to chat with you. Clearly, something is wrong, and based on what you said, it seems to be about the… quirk… you shared with me. I don't know what exactly happened, but I'm sorry." Only now did Lizzie look up, and she could see the water in Madison's eyes.

"But I promise you Lizzie, none of that matters to me at all. And why would it? Everyone has secrets. So—"

"If that's the case, then why would you spill it?!" Lizzie blurted.

Madison blinked. "What?"

"Why would you tell someone else my secret?"

"I never told anyone! I promise!"

"Well then, what is this?" Lizzie fished out her phone, showing her a picture of the first letter.

Madison took the phone, eyes scanning across the screen, her mouth opening and closing several times.

"I… I have no clue what this is," Madison finally said. "I promise you Lizzie, I know nothing about this."

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out, her brain overwhelmed by a tangle of thoughts.

"I have never mentioned anything about your situation to anyone. I… I don’t know who this is, or how they know, but… But I had nothing to do with it. I would never do something like that to you Lizzie, please… Please believe me," Madison stuttered, wiping her face before looking up.

The usual, carefully-composed face was gone. Instead staring at her were wide eyes, glistening with tears and desperation. It was a look she'd never seen on her friend. Noticing her stare, Madison's eyes flickered away, as she bit her lip, tears beginning to stream.

And it was then that Lizzie realized she was telling the truth.

"You never told anyone?" she finally asked.

"I never told anyone anything. Lizzie, I would never sabotage my friend."

There was another silence as she let her thoughts stir.

"Lizzie… I promise. I'll help you find out who did this and prove that I have nothing to do with it! Please… I…" Madison's voice trailed as she slumped against the lockers, arms clutched around herself as she looked down.

"I believe you."

The words caused the girl to looked up.

"I believe you… But then everything I said… I…" It was her turn to choke back tears.

"Lizzie, it's okay… I know you didn't mean it."

"I… I thought you had been lying to me this entire time. I thought that our entire friendship was fake. I… I’m so…"

Madison wrapped her arms around her, pulling her closer.

"No… I'm the one that should be sorry." Madison paused, wiping her own tears. The two made eye contact, staring at each other through blurry eyes. "I… I should've come talk to you once I realized something was wrong. I thought you were busy and just needed some space. But I was scared… Afraid that you might be angry at me… Worried that…"

The two slumped together against the lockers and slid to the floor. Madison put an arm around her.

"I'm sorry."

And it was then that Lizzie couldn't hold it in any longer, all of the feelings of the past week — the betrayal, the loneliness, and the thoughts of losing her best friend — poured out of her.

A hand guided her head to rest, and another hand wrapped around her own, gripping it gently, but firmly.

She shut her eyes, as her tears continued streaming. As she gradually wiped the sadness away, they were replaced by tears of relief, of happiness… as she realized her best friend was back.

The two sat in silence — save for some gentle sobbing — long after the tears had dried. It was in this stillness, listening to her friend's slow breathing, that the rest of the world seemed to fade away.

Everything would be alright.

When they finally got up, they helped each other over to the restroom, where they washed up side by side.

"I’m sorry," Lizzie finally said.

"No, I’m sorry too. I should’ve checked in with you earlier and there wouldn’t have been such a big misunderstanding."

"But I said so many mean things."

"I know you don't mean it. Besides, I would've been just as mad if I were you."

"Thank you."

"It’s nothing."

"No. It means a lot."

"I know you’d do the same for me… But Lizzie, there’s still one problem."

"Yeah…"

"We still don’t know who your blackmailer is, or how they know."

"Yeah…"

"But I think I may have an idea. Are you in?"

"Yeah." Lizzie smiled.