Pack Rules

Maya's dog Barnaby thumped his tail against her leg, like he knew something was wrong before she did. In the hallway, Tyler stood with his new crew — varsity jacket guys who smelled like Axe body spray and entitlement.

"Sup, friend," Tyler said, weird emphasis on the word like it was a foreign concept.

Maya's chest tightened. They'd been best friends since seventh grade, when he'd defended her against some jerk making fun of her braces. Now he looked at her like she was a stranger.

"Whatever, Tyler."

Behind him, Reese laughed. "Oh, she's STILL salty? That's adorable."

That was it — the exact moment Maya realized Tyler wasn't just drifting away. He'd rewritten history, cut her from the narrative like she'd never mattered.

Her phone buzzed. Chloe: *You good?*

*Not really,* Maya typed back. *Tyler's acting like I don't exist.*

Chloe's reply came instantly. *Want to come over? We can talk about it. Also my mom got those cookies you like.*

Something shifted inside Maya. All this time mourning her friendship with Tyler, when real friendship had been waiting.

She walked to Chloe's house, Barnaby at her heels. Chloe opened the door before Maya even knocked.

"I saw your story," Chloe said. "Wanna talk about it?"

Maya sat on Chloe's bed, surrounded by posters and fairy lights, and something occurred to her. "You know what's wild? Tyler was never really my friend. Not like you are."

"Real ones don't make you feel small," Chloe agreed.

Maya thought about calling BS on Tyler's behavior, on the whole toxic hierarchy of high school. But she didn't need to say it. Chloe already knew.

"Barnaby likes you better than me anyway," Maya said, watching her dog curl up at Chloe's feet.

"That's because he's got good taste." Chloe grinned. "Unlike some people."

Maya laughed, and for the first time in weeks, her chest felt light. Some friendships fade. Others reveal themselves as something real — steady, uncomplicated, worth holding onto.