LET THE HUNT BEGIN

[Pink Savage Exclusive]

So, I hear there's a manhunt for me. Cute.

It's funny how everyone suddenly cares so much about "school spirit" when they're trying to hunt down someone who actually tells the truth. But hey, keep your meetings. Spread your rumors. My personal favorite so far? That I'm Debbie Shaw. 💀 Honestly, I'd be insulted if I wasn't laughing so hard.

But here's the thing — you won't find me. You can't. Because I don't just live in the shadows. I own them.

And while you're all busy pointing fingers, maybe you should start asking better questions. Like why certain people are so desperate to shut me up. What are they afraid I'll say next?

#TickTock 🕰️

*-*

The weekend felt like freedom after the insane week we'd had at school. And what better place to unwind than Nate's mansion? His house was the kind of place you only saw in movies — marble floors, glass walls, a pool big enough to swim laps in. And like always, his parents were nowhere to be found.

Bill and I walked in like we belonged there, because at this point, we kind of did. The sound of video game explosions and trash talk echoed from the game room.

"About time!" Tim called out when we walked in, his face glued to the screen. "Nate's been getting his ass handed to him without you, Bill."

Bill grinned, dropping his bag. "That's because Nate sucks. Move over."

"Hey!" Nate protested, but he was laughing, his eyes lighting up when he saw me. "Billie, you want next?"

I smirked. "You just want someone you can beat."

"Exactly," Nate shot back, and the room burst into laughter.

I sank onto the plush couch, watching them battle it out, but my mind wasn't really on the game. The rumors about Pink Savage were getting louder. People were guessing, accusing. Some of it was funny, but some of it… wasn't.

"Yo," one of the other guys — Ethan, I think — spoke up. "So, who do you guys think Pink Savage really is?"

My heart did a full-on gymnastics routine, but I forced my face to stay calm.

"Not Debbie Shaw," Tim snorted. "No way she's that cool."

"Maybe it's someone we'd never expect," Ethan said thoughtfully. "Like one of the teachers."

Bill laughed so hard he almost fell off the couch. "Right. Because Mr. Jenkins definitely has time to run an anonymous gossip blog between his mid-life crisis and his bad haircuts."

"Or," Nate cut in, his voice smooth, "maybe it's someone closer than we think."

For half a second, his eyes flicked to me. I swallowed hard, hoping it looked casual.

"Could be anyone," I said, keeping my tone light. "Maybe even one of you guys."

That got them all going, accusing each other while I sank deeper into the cushions, hoping no one noticed the way my palms were suddenly sweating.

Bill nudged me, his voice low. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I lied.

But the heat was definitely getting closer. And I had no idea how long I could stay in the shadows.

*-*

A while later, I slipped into the kitchen to grab a drink — and found Nate already there.

He was leaning against the counter, his fingers drumming a restless rhythm. He looked up when I walked in, and for a second, something flickered across his face — something I couldn't quite read.

"Hey," I said, grabbing a soda from the fridge. "You okay?"

Nate shifted on his feet, his fingers still tapping like he was working up the nerve to say something. The teasing smile he always wore was gone now — and in its place was this… weird seriousness I wasn't used to seeing.

"Billie," he started, his voice softer than before. "There's—there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

The air in the kitchen suddenly felt way too still. My heart picked up speed, and I hated that it did. Because I knew that tone — the one people use when they're about to drop something heavy.

"What is it?" I asked, trying to sound casual, like my stomach hadn't just flipped.

But before he could answer, Tim's voice crashed through the quiet.

"Nate! Dude, we're starving! Stop flirting and bring the snacks!"

Nate flinched, like the words physically hit him. And just like that, whatever he was about to say slipped away. He forced a laugh, one that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Coming!" he called back, grabbing a bag of chips like it was some kind of lifeline.

I stared at him, waiting — hoping — he'd pick up where he left off. But he wouldn't even look at me.

"Nate—"

"It's nothing," he cut in quickly. Too quickly. "Forget it."

But I couldn't. Not when his face still looked like he was carrying the weight of the world.

*-*

Back in the game room, everything went back to normal — or at least, it did for everyone else. The guys were still yelling over the game, Bill was locked in an argument with Tim about some ridiculous strategy, and Nate slipped right back into his easygoing smile like nothing had happened.

But I wasn't fooled.

Because I knew Nate. And I knew when he was hiding something.

And whatever it was… I had a feeling it was bigger than I was ready for.