Fractured Spaces ( Sienna)

The walk home from Ridgecrest was always the same. Students peeled away into luxury cars or onto private buses while I trudged to the edge of the campus, where the wealth and privilege abruptly ended. My route took me past gated mansions, sprawling lawns, and perfectly curated lives.

By the time I reached my neighborhood, it felt like I’d crossed an invisible line into a world that Ridgecrest refused to acknowledge existed.

At home, the front door creaked open to the sound of my dad’s voice barking at someone over the phone. I stepped inside, careful not to draw attention to myself.

“There you are,” he said as soon as he saw me. His voice carried the sharp edge of frustration. “Did you buy groceries like I told you?”

I winced, guilt twisting in my chest. “I didn’t have time after practice—”

“Not this again,” he snapped, cutting me off. “Do you think the bills pay themselves? Or that food just appears in the fridge?”

“I’ll go tomorrow,” I said, keeping my voice low.

“You’ll go now,” he demanded.

Zoe peeked her head out from the kitchen, her big eyes darting between us. I shook my head slightly, silently telling her to stay put.

Grabbing the shopping list from the counter, I slipped out the door before things could escalate further.

The small grocery store a few blocks away was nothing like the pristine markets near Ridgecrest. The shelves were crowded, the lighting dim, and the floor tiles mismatched, but it was familiar. As I scanned the list, I couldn’t stop replaying my father’s words in my head.

It wasn’t just about groceries. It was about the simmering resentment that seemed to hang over our family ever since my mom left two years ago. It was about how, no matter what I did, I could never quite measure up to his expectations.

“Hey, scholarship girl!”

The voice jolted me out of my thoughts. I turned to see Emily Hastings standing by the produce section, her arms full of apples and oranges.

“Emily?” I said, startled. I’d never imagined seeing her in this part of town.

“Didn’t know you lived around here,” she said, glancing around with a small smile.

I hesitated. “Yeah, it’s just a few blocks away.”

Emily nodded but didn’t press further. Instead, she held up an orange. “Do you think this one’s ripe? Or am I about to get the sour surprise of my life?”

Despite myself, I laughed. “Go for the slightly softer ones. They’re sweeter.”

Emily grinned. “You’re full of secrets, Hayes.”

She lingered for another minute, chatting easily about school and classes, before heading to the checkout. I watched her go, feeling a mix of gratitude and discomfort. She didn’t belong in my world, and I didn’t belong in hers.

Later that evening, I sat in my room, staring at the Ridgecrest emblem embossed on my notebook. The weight of the day sat heavily on my chest. Between school, practice, and the endless tension at home, it felt like I was constantly being pulled in a million directions.

But then my mind wandered to the way Luca had looked at me earlier during practice. The faint smirk, the way his eyes lingered just a second too long. It was dangerous—whatever this thing was between us—but it was also the one thing I had to look forward to.

For a brief moment, I let myself imagine what it would feel like to belong somewhere, with someone who didn’t see me as an obligation or a project.

With a deep breath, I pushed the thought aside and focused on the homework in front of me. Daydreams wouldn’t pay the bills or fix my family, and they definitely wouldn’t make me belong at Ridgecrest.