a/n:

Hey! Lovely to see that you're back after ALL THIS TIME! If you need a quick catch-up, check the PART TWO title chapter for details.

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It would take more than just a handful of days to destroy Rosalie's motivation, but it took precisely fifty-six freshly-printed posters to make a sizable dent in her confidence in finding Khoshekh. Khoshekh, her somewhat problematic black cat—perhaps it was true that black cats did bring bad luck, but she didn't want to blame anything on that feral fiend of a cat. She appreciated Jamie-Lee's commentary, though.

"You know, maybe there's something to be said about banishing a black cat," Jamie-Lee said. He leant his shoulder against the post behind the printing machines, and when Rosalie looked up to scowl at him, he offered a shrug and looked away. "I mean, you did beat Adams without the black cat."

"Yeah, and we beat them twice—once with Khoshekh, and once without," she said. She snatched up the last of the posters and stacked them neatly into a pile. "Consider your argument annihilated."

"I'm just saying," Jamie-Lee said with a long, drawn-out groan. He followed after Rosalie, stomping his feet on the way. "You know, it's not the end of the world. Think about it—no more kitty litter, no more water bowl, feeding the little sucker. You have enough to worry about as it is. Unlike me—wait, that's a lie. Now I have to deal with Lennie being all depressed. You know he spent all weekend in a little blanket cocoon, licking his wounds?"

Rosalie rolled her eyes as turned the corner outside of the printing lab. Her heels clicked and echoed down the Bradshaw corridor with Jamie hurrying to match her pace. She looked sparingly at him as she said, smiling almost guiltily, "I bet he's just shocked that your one score against Adams was because you're a tease."

Jamie stuck his chin in the air with a proud smile. Rosalie saw videos of him on social media, recorded from the stands at the Lions' stadium, when Blake checked Jamie at the Lions' goal. Of course, Joanna found it hilarious and so Brynn showed the entire lunch table the video of Jamie shoving his ass into Blake's crotch during their battle over the ball. It gave him just enough time to push around Blake and score on the infuriated goalkeeper.

Suffice to say that just about every Lion on Blake's team loathed Jamie-Lee. Joanna claimed it was because they were all jealous of Jamie for "scoring such a catch."

Rosalie paused in the hallway and put a hand to her chin, her mind going back to the fact that Lennie Pittmen was crushed from their defeat against Adams' Lions. She wondered just how much of Lennie wanted to clobber Jamie-Lee upside the head for dating a Lion. Given what Rosalie saw from Blake Miles' horde of loyal followers, she imagined not a mean word was said about Jamie-Lee amongst them within hearing distance from Blake. If Blake's teammates confessed their hatred towards Jamie, Rosalie could only imagine the possibilities. Her mind automatically went to an image of Blake turning puppy-eyed and tearing up until his teammates apologized for their transgressions and begging forgiveness.

She looked down at the stack of papers in her arms and sifted through them. Jamie took one off of the stack, and when she prepared to kick him for it, he had already run off, folded it, and slipped it into the nearest locker.

"Jamie!" she cried, chasing after him. She stopped at the locker, hoping it wasn't gone for good, but it was too late. She groaned at the sound of Jamie's maniacal laughter disappearing around the corner. "I have a limited number of those, you know!" she shouted after him.

Now alone, Rosalie sighed and it trembled through her like a cold shiver. The energy from making it through the conference on top would never fade, but the fact that it was over and they had their last game just the day before was... a relief. Of course, there was so much more to do, and the stress of realizing that practice would go on despite the end of the conference was on her mind day in and day out.

It was her last year to get to State, and she did it.

There was a flicker of guilt, though, at realizing that the boys team didn't make it. Half of the Bradshaw soccer league wouldn't be going to State. Granted, Rosalie loved Blake Miles, but... she wanted to see Bradshaw there, not Adams—the team that foiled every last year for them.

Lennie wouldn't get another shot at State.

It was the last period of the day and due to the win and the end of the conference, Coach Maguire cancelled practice for the weekend. Rosalie knew it was just so that they could gather their energy for a rigorous Hell Week—mostly because she planned part of it with Coach and Ray. Ray was thrilled about the whole ordeal, since the prospect of winning State was more than any of them could handle. The entire team never even touched State before—the graduating class ahead of Rosalie's grade had, though, and it was enough to instill an obligation in her to take the team there when the graduating class was gone.

She carried Khoshekh's posters to the cafeteria where she found her friends gathered at a table with Jamie-Lee, Lennie, and a few other boys' team players. Juliana waved at her, freckled cheeks rounded with her smile. Rosalie couldn't help but laugh. She couldn't deny how giddy her teammates made her feel now. She never thought she'd feel so proud in her entire life, but there she was, surrounded by a team of incredible players with just as much resolution to win.

Perhaps it wasn't so at the start—Rosalie was always a bit more competitive in the longterm, but winning against Adams certainly gave everyone a push.

Rosalie approached the table as Ray tucked a strand of long, black hair behind her ear and pulled Jamie's notebook closer. Jamie had too much energy to sit on the bench, and so Rosalie found him on top of the table, feet on the bench, watching as Ray uncapped a red pen and set to work.

Rosalie circled around to where she could squeeze in between Lennie and Juliana. She offered a smile to him, but it was tight. It was hard to feel entirely happy when someone was entirely not.

Lennie scowled at her and said, "Is this you pitying me?"

"Maybe a little," she confessed. "Jamie said you've been moping."

Lennie turned to Jamie-Lee in annoyance, who quickly turned back around to face Ray and the notebook. Lennie slumped a little, folding his arms in front of him on the table. He pointed to the stack of posters Rosalie laid out. "No luck?" he said.

"Not yet," she sighed, but came back up with a smile. She straightened her shoulders and said, "But Khoshekh'll come back. I've been leaving out his toys and blankets. Sami and I are gonna drive around after school and look for him."

"I could put one up in my neighborhood," Juliana said from beside her. She leant over to pick one off of the top. She took another, and another, and said, "I mean, who knows how far he went. Might help."

"Have you been calling the humane society?" Lennie asked. He took a poster and folded it into his backpack as Rosalie shrugged.

"I called them once and they said they'd look out for him. They have my number so... I'd feel weird calling again," she said. "I don't want to seem pushy."

"But this is your cat, dammit. Be as pushy as you want," Juliana said.

Rosalie set to work putting the posters away and in the process, she heard Lennie sigh beside her. She paused, wondering if she should ask about it. She knew he was upset about losing to Adams, and there wasn't much she could do there in comfort without sounding condescending.

What about... her mind started, but the end result soured her insides. She didn't want to ask about Harper Winters. Lennie's longterm girlfriend was more or less a sore subject now if she wasn't there. Rosalie saw them in the halls now and again and wondered if her and Lennie's explicit happiness was real after what Joanna deduced in Jamie's bedroom.

Rosalie glanced at Lennie, who had his forehead on his folded arms. Jamie was arguing with something Ray put on his paper, and the noise from their bickering would be enough to mask a simple question from Rosalie to Lennie.

She leaned over and asked, voice hushed, "How's Harper?"

Lennie groaned a little and said, "I don't want to talk about it."

Rosalie's hope crumbled with her delusion that Harper wasn't a terrible person. Ever since that day in the girls' restroom with Harper, Rosalie couldn't help but feel a little terrified whenever she passed Harper in the hallways.

She looked awkwardly away and then down to her backpack, murmuring, "I'm sorry, Lennie."

"It's not your fault," he said through a long, tired sigh. He straightened a little and rubbed his eye. Even mopey, Lennie looked perfect, even when his uniform tie wasn't straightened or his shirt pressed.

At that moment, Rosalie's phone buzzed in the pocket of her blazer. She jumped in surprise and her recovering was put on hold at the name on her lock screen. The text that followed wasn't exactly reassuring, either.

JOANNA: Cozying up to Pittmen, are we

JOANNA: Look behind you

Rosalie put her phone down and twisted around, glare at the ready. Instead, she was faced with an empty cafeteria and onset confusion. She squinted as she scanned the cafeteria for Joanna, or some other equally-distracting event, but she came up empty until her phone buzzed again and read: "The hallway, you idiot."

There, at the opposite entryway to the cafeteria, Rosalie spotted a fraction of Joanna's bright orange hair peeking out from around the corner. Seventh period was the only period in the school day that Rosalie didn't share with Joanna, but for whatever reason, six hours of their day wasn't enough to bore Joanna.

The jolt that went through Rosalie's heart felt a lot like a punch through the chest. She pocketed her phone and swung her legs out from beneath the table. "I'll be right back," she said to Juliana and Lennie before making her getaway.

Her fingers tingled as she walked across the cafeteria after Joanna's receding head of red hair. It had been a week since Joanna pressed her cheek to Rosalie's, and Rosalie wasn't sure if Joanna expected the existential crisis that followed. Rosalie hadn't felt it before, mostly because any idea of romance was coupled with the undeniable fact that anyone at Bradshaw who knew her also knew the whispered nickname Virgin Lips. It was childish of her to unknowingly hide behind that nickname all in the name of her lack of romantic suitors.

As infuriating as Joanna's rationality for the situation was, Rosalie excused her own lack of interest in romance, or her painful freshmen crush on Lennie Pittmen, as the result of irrationality. Irrationality that came with inexperience. Unworthiness, maybe? Whatever the case, it was all self-inflicted, and letting go of inhibitions meant facing the facts of having another crush.

But how could Joanna be the subject of it? Joanna, the same neutrally chaotic girl who puppeteered Rosalie around the entire semester. The same girl who could have crushed the Virgin Lips nickname in the middle of the school's locker room, of all places. Though, no one really used the nickname ever since Joanna punched Jace Clemons in the eye.

When Rosalie turned down the short hallway connecting the cafeteria to the foyer, she found Joanna standing against the wall, a foot propped up against the white brick behind her. She was toying with her cartilage piercing, flicking the silver ring idly until Rosalie stopped in a moment of unexplained panic.

Joanna glanced at her with a titled smile, tipping her head back against the wall. "My teacher thinks I'm getting water," she said.

"Rebellious of you to not be getting water," Rosalie said, crossing her arms to hide the fact that she was full of unexpected jitters. Truthfully, she was surprised her voice remained even, but she couldn't control the state of her smile when Joanna pushed off of the wall only to lean a hand against it not far from where Rosalie stood.

Joanna tapped the toe of one shoe against the tile. It felt like they were back in the locker room, but this time, Rosalie's adrenaline from the game wasn't there to keep her anxiety at bay.

Joanna licked her lips and said, "Doesn't mean I'm not thirsty." Her eyes met Rosalie's, and this small shift made Rosalie realize that Joanna hadn't been looking where she was supposed to.

She resisted the urge to put a hand over her mouth. Instead, she narrowed her eyes. That was what she was supposed to do, right? "You know you can't tease me," she said as deadpanned as she could manage.

"Doesn't make it any less fun," Joanna said with a wider grin. "I was wondering what you were doing after school. I've got Lieutenant's car privileges since there's no practice."

"Sami's picking me up," she said. She sighed, and hoped Joanna wouldn't realize that it was out of relief. She wasn't sure how much time she could spend in constant panic-mode, and she wasn't about to test it. She cleared her throat and looked down at her shoes. "We're... putting up posters. For Khoshekh."

"Do you need help or...?"

"No, no. We've got it. I mean, Juliana's putting a few up in her neighborhood if you... wanted to take one?"

Rosalie offered a weak laugh as she reached up to scratch the scrunchy holding her bun back. She smiled at Joanna, who's expression dulled, shoulders slumping. She rolled her eyes and leant back, and if it weren't for Joanna's increasing disregard for Rosalie's personal space, Rosalie never would have gotten close enough to consider acknowledging Joanna's eyeliner, or the fact that Joanna had a new septum piercing for every week.

Not that... Rosalie was acknowledging it. At all.

Joanna tipped her head to the side and studied Rosalie's expression. Rosalie's mock confidence faltered a bit, but she kept that smile slapped on because hey, it was certainly one way to convince people that she was perfectly okay.

I am okay, right? she thought to herself, maintaining eye contact.

Joanna turned away with a sigh. "Whatever, Killer. I'll snatch one after class. This has been one long water fountain break."

Joanna walked off then, heading for the material arts hallway. It was where Rosalie often met Sami in the art rooms, talking with Miss Calhoun. Joanna stopped at the corner of it to glance back at Rosalie, who popped up a hand to wave farewell. Once Joanna was out of view, Rosalie dropped her hand with a sigh, and then a groan that sent her slumping against the wall.

She put a hand to her head and moaned internally, Why couldn't I have just skipped the Crush Phase? The general consensus conceded to the fact that the Crush Phase was the worst of all of the phases—her anxiety, self-doubt, and mental capacity just couldn't handle it.

And all it took was one almost-kiss to throw her body's common sense out the window.

Joanna Spencer was no longer a topic of conversation between her and Sami, and Rosalie could deal with that. Hanging out with Sami meant completely forgetting about Joanna, if only for a short time. Though, hanging out with Sami meant pasting Khoshekh's cute devil eyes across the neighborhood. There would never be a break for her head anytime soon.

"Half of the paintings are nearly done," Sami said as he held out a line of tape. Rosalie took it and pressed it to the corners of one of the posters. "Miss Calhoun had me signed up for an art show this weekend, and I think I'll be able to show yours, if you wanted to come."

Rosalie gasped, the weight on her chest momentarily lifting. Sami kept them all in the dark about the progress of the portraits, and she knew that at some point she'd get to see them. Tante Bee had mentioned just the other night how great they were coming along—perks of being Sami's mother and all.

"Yes! Oh my God, yeah, I want to go! What day?"

"Sunday morning, so I can't stay at the party Saturday for long—"

Rosalie faltered, brow tensing in confusion. The shift was enough for Sami to pick up on it. He rose an eyebrow at her. "You... did get the invite, right? In the group chat?"

"There haven't been any updates in the group chat," she said automatically, but the moment she did, she wondered if she should have lied. As if Sami would have gone along with that. The situation was obvious the second he mentioned a party. She shook her head and took another strip of tape from him. "What group chat?" she asked, turning back to the poster to cover one last open strip.

Sami sighed and reached back to scratch the back of his head. "This is so weird. He probably meant to add you—I didn't think to check who all was invited. I just assumed since Brynn and Joanna keep flooding the chat with memes and Ray keeps telling them to shut up..."

"They never said anything to me," she said. She dropped her hands from the lamp post and put a hand to her hip. She pursed her lips and scanned the road for another place to put Khoshekh's face. "I know they were thinking about a Halloween party, but no one decided on a location."

"Yeah! That's what the party's for. It's gonna happen at Lennie's place."

"Lennie's?" Rosalie snorted. She let out a sarcastic laugh. "Yeah right! He knows how destructive his team is. As if he'd let them set foot in his house. His house is probably picture perfect."

"Yeah, well, it won't be after the party," Sami said.

Rosalie threw her hand down with a groan, posters wrinkling in her grasp. "I was literally talking to Lennie today—and Joanna. I have class with them! They never mentioned anything about the party."

"You know, I'm sure it's fine. It's probably all just a big misunderstanding," Sami said, only to jump up with a gasp, clapping his hands together. "Or maybe it's not! You should discretely ask Ray what she's doing tomorrow night."

"What? No! I'm not asking Ray. She'll tell everyone that I wasn't invited and make a big deal out of it," Rosalie whined. She ran away from Sami, who jumped the curb to chase her across the street. She stomped onto the sidewalk, groaning all the way. She turned back around to frown at Sami and say, "You know, I wouldn't be surprised if Lennie didn't invite me. I wouldn't blame him, especially if he's trying to, like, salvage his relationship with Harper. Harper hates me!"

Sami laughed and put his hands out as if to ward away that whole situation. "Whoa, yeah, no, I'm sure that's not it. And Harper doesn't hate you."

"How would you know! Neither of us are friends with her," Rosalie said. She threw her arms up and folded them over her eyes as she tipped into the light post. She let out a fake sob. "He probably hates me for keeping the whole Blake and Jamie thing a secret. You know Blake and Jamie are a thing?"

"Uh, yeah, because that's all Blake talks about at school," Sami said. He leant his shoulder against the post and Rosalie spared a second to look up at him with sad eyes. Sami fake-pouted at her before returning back to normal and letting it all dissipate with his long, dramatic sigh. "Besides, I mean, if Jamie's going,