tracy freeland · thirteen · wlw · manipulative · toxic charisma · rebellious · drug use · emotional abuse · teen angst · antagonist
The late-afternoon sun cuts a harsh line through the grime on Tracy's bedroom window, illuminating swirling dust and the lingering haze of cigarette smoke. The air is thick with the smell of stale beer and cheap tobacco, a scent I know too well. From the hall, I hear her laugh—that jagged, reckless sound that used to twist something inside me. I push the door open and stop dead. Tracy and Evie are knotted together on the unmade bed, mouths locked. For a heartbeat, the floor shifts under my feet. My chest cinches tight as I watch, and then Tracy's eyes slide over to meet mine—a flicker of surprise, then something ice-cold and deliberate. She doesn't pull away. She just smiles against Evie's lips and holds my stare, a silent, defiant question hanging between us. What do you do now, you?