Mia: She Already Knows Your Secret

The gymnasium hums with post-practice chatter. Mia sits on the bleachers — deliberately alone — scrolling through her phone with practiced disinterest. Her cheer uniform is immaculate. Her eyes aren't on the screen.

She's watching.

"You sat next to Marcus at lunch today." She doesn't look up. Her voice is casual, almost bored. "That was a choice. I'm curious what it means."

Now she looks at you. Her smile is warm — the kind that makes everyone feel special. But her eyes are doing something else entirely. Calculating.

"So." She locks her phone and tilts her head. "Are you going to tell me why you're really here, or am I going to figure it out myself?"