❤️🔥His Hot introvert❤️🔥
🏵️(The bet)🏵️
🪻WRITTEN BY CRYSTAL.O.ORI🪻
❌ DO NOT COPY OR REPOST❌
(Episode 23&24)
VIOLET’S POINT OF VIEW
As I finally peeled my eyelids open, the stillness enveloping the room hit me like a wave. It was still morning, yet the atmosphere felt denser than it typically did almost as if the entire world was holding its breath, waiting for me to make a move.
My fingers delicately traced the surface of my charm bracelet the very same one that Dylan had returned to me not too long ago. I paused for a moment, letting the memories flood back, before I found the strength to whisper to myself,
“What’s going on with you, Violet?” A flicker of warmth ignited in my chest at the mere thought of him, and I despised that feeling just as quickly. But in an instant, my mind was jerked back to the troubling message that had haunted my thoughts.
**They’re not who you think they are.** The words burned in my memory, seared into the fabric of my mind. Who could send such a message? The sender remained shrouded in anonymity no known number, no identifying details. Yet there was something about the message that felt hauntingly intentional, unsettlingly personal. I shook my head vigorously, as if that simple action could sweep away the dark thoughts.
After I took a long, refreshing shower, I quickly donned my school uniform, meticulously pulling my hair into a neat ponytail. Stepping out of my room, a gentle waft of toasted bread mingled with the soothing scent of chamomile tea floated from the kitchen, drawing me in.
Aunt Quinn greeted me from her perch at the breakfast table
“Good morning, dear,” she said warmly,
“Morning,” I managed to mumble as I took my place at the table.
She glanced at me for a moment, her gaze scrutinizing. “You seem unusually quiet this morning. Is there something on your mind?”
A faint smile tugged at my lips, though it felt forced. “No, it’s nothing. I’m just fine.”
She regarded me with a knowing look, letting out a soft sigh. “You and your mother—always insisting you’re fine when it’s apparent that you’re not.”
I protested gently, “I just didn’t sleep well last night, that’s all.”
“Nightmares, then?”
I paused, taken back by the memory of last night—Dylan’s voice calling out to me, “mon chérie,” Jason’s concerned frown, and that ominous text. “Something like that,” I finally admitted.
Her hand reached over and patted mine softly, radiating warmth and understanding.
“You’ll speak when you’re ready, Violet. Just promise me that you won’t make any hasty decisions without talking to me first, okay?”
I chuckled quietly. “You sound just like Mom.”
“Good! At least one of us needs to keep you out of trouble while she’s away,” she replied playfully.
After finishing breakfast, I grabbed my backpack and made my way to the car awaiting me in the driveway. The driver opened the door with a courteous nod as I slid into the backseat. As we drove through the gates, I gazed out the window, taking in the city as it rolled by—the sunlight glinting off the rooftops, the distant giggles and chatter of kids spinning by on their bicycles. For just a fleeting moment, everything felt like it was falling perfectly into place again.
However, as soon as the car pulled up to the school, the familiar weight of reality came crashing back down upon me. Whispers pursued me like a shadow, relentless and sharp.
“Look, it’s Violet!”
“She’s even prettier up close.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed she’s becoming more beautiful. Dylan must have been doing quite the job,” I overheard them saying, but I chose to ignore their comments, holding my head high even as my heart raced within me. I headed toward my locker, fumbling nervously with the combination, when a familiar voice sliced through my thoughts, making me completely freeze.
“Careful, mon chérie,” Dylan teased lightly, amusement lacing his tone.
“You might break the locker if you keep glaring at it like that.” I turned sharply, locking eyes with his cocky grin.
“Do you ever get tired of calling me that?” I shot back, though I could feel my defenses beginning to crumble.
He shrugged his shoulders playfully. “I could stop, but then you wouldn’t have a reason to roll your eyes at me each morning.” Despite myself, I felt a smile creeping onto my lips. “Good morning, Dylan.”
“Good morning, Violet,” he replied smoothly, his grin widening as he took in my appearance. “You look less as if you fainted at a party and more like you actually survived it… Let me put it this way—you look good!”
I scoffed, though I could feel a blush coloring my cheeks. “I told you not to remind me of that.”
“Can’t help it,” he said, leaning casually against the lockers, his presence somehow feeling both comforting and frustrating. “It’s not every day I get to carry someone in my arms, you know.”
“Great, so now I should be thanking you for it?” I replied, raising an eyebrow.
“Shouldn’t you?” he countered, his grin only growing wider, causing me to roll my eyes once more. Yet, deep down, that familiar tug settled back into my chest. **Why is he suddenly talking about the party?** Shaking my head, I focused on grabbing the books I needed.
“Some people come to school to actually study, Dylan,” I muttered, attempting to maintain my composure.
“Ah, yes, studying… your favorite hobby, right along with avoiding me,” he shot back, a playful grin stretching across his face. Feeling challenged, I sent him a sharp look.
“Is that what this is really about? You can’t stand the fact that there’s someone out there who doesn’t fall for your silly charm?” I said, irritation creeping into my voice.
“Perhaps,” he conceded in a soft tone that took me by surprise, shifting my expectations. Then his voice took on a more playful note as he added,
“Or maybe I just enjoy the thrill of the challenge.” Before I could formulate a reply, the bell rang, cutting through the moment. He flashed me a quick wink before striding away, leaving me breathing out slowly, caught in a web of confusion; was I annoyed or, can I say, intrigued?
As I glanced down the corridor, my gaze landed on Nianna, who was stationed a few lockers away. She was pretending to rummage through her bag, but her eyes continuously darted between me and Dylan. Observing her made my jaw tense up, though she managed to mask her irritation fairly well. Aside from the slight tightening of her features, I reminded myself to keep playing the part of the oblivious bystander. Let Nianna think I was unaware of what was happening.
—
DYLAN’S POINT OF VIEW
By the time lunch rolled around, the cafeteria buzzed with the typical energy of Zayn, Johnson, and Brian, who were already seated at our usual table, laughing heartily about some trivial matter, as was their custom.
“Hey dude,” Zayn nudged me with enthusiasm,
“your party is still the talk of the school. That video of you carrying that nerd is pure legend status.” I couldn’t help but smirk at the mention of it.
“Yeah, I’ve noticed. Seems like half the school has transformed into little gossip reporters,” I muttered, rolling my eyes at the thought.
“So, how’s it coming along with her?” Brian chimed in, leaning in with genuine curiosity.
“Still pretty slow, but I’m determined to win her heart and put this bet to rest,” I replied, and they shared a chuckle, half in jest.
“This bet is dragging on so long, I’m starting to wonder if you’ll ever succeed… I mean, if it were a different time, the lady would have fallen for you ages ago, and we’d have moved on,” Johnson commented with a hint of skepticism, prompting me to scoff in response.
“I’ll figure it out, alright? It’s just… she’s different,” I murmured, feeling a strange weight to my words.
“Don’t tell me you’re actually developing feelings for her, man. She’s not exactly your typical type… Hope you haven’t forgotten that all of this is just for the bet,” Zayn said, casually spinning his soda can in his hand.
“No, I’m not—I’m just… curious,” I added, somewhat defensively, as Zayn burst into laughter.
“Curious, huh? About the quiet bookworm? You really sure this isn’t about winning the bet?” he quipped, and I shot him a warning glance, even though it didn’t seem to deter him.
“You really talk too much,” I muttered under my breath.
“Relax, I didn’t say anything wrong,” Zayn said, his grin widening. “But come on! You have to admit she possesses something special. She’s the kind of girl who doesn’t feel the need to impress anyone.”
“She is different,” I conceded quietly, almost as if addressing the thought to myself rather than my friends. Johnson raised an eyebrow.
“Different enough to make you hesitate? That’s not your style at all.”
“Maybe I’m just getting tired of the same kind of girls,” I said, forcing a smile that didn’t truly reach my eyes.
“Don’t stress about it too much,” I added, though beneath the surface, something was undeniably shifting something I wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge.
—
NIANNA’S POINT OF VIEW
I flashed a bright smile at Violet as I slid my juice carton across the table towards her.
“You’ve hardly touched your food,” she remarked lightly, concern evident in her tone. “Are you still feeling under the weather?”She asked and I shook my head in response.
“Not really. I’m just not that hungry. I had quite a hearty breakfast before coming to school,” I explained, and she nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answer.
Though I smiled back at her, an unsettling sensation gripped me regarding how perfectly calm Violet appeared. It was almost disconcerting. When she excused herself to toss her trash away, my phone buzzed with a new message from Sasha.
“You’re slipping, Nianna. Stop smiling weirdly,She can’t suspect anything,” I read, rolling my eyes at the reminder of my task, but I quickly typed back:
“Relax. She trusts me.” Yet, as I looked in the direction of Violet’s retreating figure, an uneasy flutter stirred in my chest not quite guilt, but definitely discomfort. Perhaps it was because Violet still treated me like a sister, regardless of everything that had transpired.
Upon Violet’s return, she sat down quietly, her eyes darting momentarily in Dylan’s direction across the cafeteria. I noticed the faint smile tugging at her lips, which she tried to conceal as she gripped her fork tightly. My thoughts raced ,she shouldn’t be falling for Dylan. If only things had been different and she hadn’t gotten entangled with him in the first place, I wouldn’t have resorted to the lengths I did. Dylan is mine, and I will ensure it stays that way.
—
CHLOE’S POINT OF VIEW
From my secluded spot in the far corner of the cafeteria, I sat alone with my earbuds in, though no music played; my notebook lay open, a chaotic blend of doodles and meticulous notes scrawled in neat handwriting.
Today, Dylan’s attention was on Violet yet again, and a smile played on his lips. She doesn’t see it yet, I thought, compassion mingling with my judgment. Poor Violet. I lifted my gaze momentarily, calm yet calculating, tinged with a hint of pity for her predicament. No one noticed I watching. No one ever did. After what Dylan did to me,I pushed everyone away and loved being alone.
When the bell rang, I stood up and walked out silently, blending into the crowd. My phone buzzed once in my pocket and i typed quickly, my fingers steady.
“Be careful, Violet. He’s not who you think he is.”
*
*
#NEXT MORNING*
VIOLET’S POINT OF VIEW
The shrill sound of the alarm clock pierced through my sleepy haze like a sharp slap to the face.
With a groan, I attempted to roll over and hit the snooze button, but Sophie was quicker than me. She was already standing right next to my bed, her bright eyes sparkling with an exuberant energy that suggested she had taken it upon herself to ensure that I never overslept a minute—ever.
“Vee, Aunt Quinn said breakfast’s ready!” she chimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet as if waiting for her cue to spring into action. I muttered something that probably sounded like a mix between
“I’m awake” and “please let me just sink back my realm of sleep,” but she simply giggled at my sleepy nonsense. Oh yes, it was another day once again.
My phone buzzed violently against my nightstand, a wave of notifications lightening up the screen in a chaotic array: memes from the group chat, reminders for upcoming classes, and a new text from Nianna that caught my eye.
“Morning bestie! How was your night? See you at school?” I read, my gaze lingering on the words for a moment longer than necessary. It struck me that she seemed to be completely unawareoblivious to the underlying tension. .
Typically, she would be here at my doorstep each morning, waiting for me so we could drive to school side by side like we always did. But now, it felt different. The disappearance of our morning routine suggested that she no longer regarded me as her friend, leading her to flimsy excuses instead of performing the usual acts of companionship.
“Yeah, see you,” I typed back, resigned as I tossed my phone onto the bed, feeling a wave of resentment wash over me. The thought that she had been willing to sacrifice our friendship, trading me, labeled her as perhaps the worst person in my life.
After a hasty shower, I slipped into my school uniform, smoothing my hair back into a tight ponytail before grabbing my backpack. When I made my way downstairs, Aunt Quinn was already seated at the dining table, skimming through the morning newspaper with her reading glasses perched precariously on the tip of her nose.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” she greeted me, glancing up just long enough to see the frown etched on my forehead.
“You look a bit stressed. Any particular reason for that?” I forced a smile, trying to mask my true feelings.
“I’m fine, Auntie. Just thinking about school, that’s all,” I replied, although I could tell she was not convinced. She shot me that knowing look one that clearly stated she didn’t buy my facade but thankfully, she chose to let it be.For that mercy, I felt immense gratitude.
“Have something to eat before you head out,” she murmured, her voice gentle.
“You skipped dinner last night, you know.”
“I’ll just grab a sandwich on my way,” I lied, already inching toward the front door, eager to escape. Stepping outside, I was met by the cool, crisp air nipping at my skin the kind of morning that made you yearn for just five more minutes under the cozy covers. The drive was smooth and fast. And I took a deep breath immediately the driver stopped at school.
Immediately I Walked into the school building…..then there she was.Nianna stood casually by the lockers, waving at me as if she hadn’t done anything, as if everything was still perfectly normal.
Her smile was broad, yet something in her eyes had shifted. It struck me hard I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed it before. There was a calculating glint now, a change that had emerged in her demeanor since I had begun to pay closer attention.
“Vee!” she called out, linking her arm through mine as soon as I was within reach.
“Finally! I was starting to think you’d ditch me.”
“Me? Ditch you? Never!” I replied, attempting to mirror her feigned excitement.
“You know me I can’t let you miss out on another thrilling day of algebra class!” Her laughter rang out, perhaps a bit too merrily for my taste, as we walked together toward our first class.Upon arriving at our lockers, she launched into a discussion about everything from teachers to outfits and new makeup trends. I nodded along and responded without much thought, my mind wandering elsewhere fixated on her reflection in the metallic surface of the locker door as she fidgeted with her phone. That’s when I noticed it.
Her screen lit up momentarily, enough for me to see a name that sent a pulse of anxiety racing through me ……Sasha.
Before I could properly read the message, she turned her phone away abruptly, pretending to fluff her hair.
I managed a smile, though my heart raced with suspicion, and I worked to keep my expression neutral.
“Everything okay?” I asked casually, closing my locker with a solid thud.
“Oh…….yeah, everything is fine!” she replied too quickly, her voice betraying her.
“Just Jane messaging me and asking about… homework,” she said, and I nearly burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all. I was in disbelief.
“Homework? That’s a new one! I didn’t even realize you and Jane had become friends. She’s always with her boyfriend,” I remarked teasingly, raising an eyebrow.
She laughed, the sound a little too forced. “Friends? Oh no, Violet… I don’t know how my notes ended up with her the other day. She returned them, and that’s how we started talking,” she explained, rolling her eyes as if it were the most ridiculous thing in the world. I couldn’t help but chuckle.
It appeared that she had completely forgotten my role as the class captain and the fact that we’re classmates. I couldn’t help but feel a bit bemused; after all, we hadn’t even been assigned any homework this week. A feigned smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I thought these things to myself.
“Oh, okay,” I murmured in response, and her face lit up with a bright smile, a clear indication of her relief that I wasn’t probing any further into the situation. But in truth, I was more suspicious than ever before.
NIANNA’S POINT OF VIEW
If guilt had a distinct flavor, it would have tasted like the icy bitterness of the coffee I sipped this morning. Each gulp reminded me of the weight on my conscience. As I walked down the hallway alongside Violet, her laughter rang out like musical notes, yet I struggled to mirror her joy, forcing a smile despite the turmoil inside. She was astute too astute. I knew that if I exhibited even the slightest hint of discomfort or unease, she would catch on immediately.
When a new message flash across my phone screen from Sasha, my stomach did an unnerving flip. It read: “Remember the plan. We’re not done with her yet.” In spite of my trembling fingers, I quickly replied with a curt “yeah.” There was a part of me that longed to call everything off. I kept rationalizing that Violet deserved whatever was coming her way—after all, she had it all: top grades, the attention of our classmates, and even Dylan’s lingering gaze whenever he believed no one was watching.
Yet deep within, I recognized that this was not merely about her; it was primarily about my own feelings of inadequacy. I felt small and nearly invisible when I stood in her shadow. So, with a forced sense of normalcy, I linked my arm with hers, striving to maintain the façade of friendship while pretending that nothing was amiss between us.
“Are you alright, Nia?” she asked all of a sudden, turning her gaze directly toward me. Her voice was light and carefree, but the intensity in her eyes twisted my stomach into knots.
“Yeah,” I replied hastily, not wanting to linger on the question. “Just feeling a bit tired.”
She nodded in response, and we continued our stride down the hallway. What unnerved me was her decision not to press further; the silence carried a weight that felt heavier than any inquiry she might have made.
VIOLET’S POINT OF VIEW
“Are you alright, Nia?” I inquired abruptly, my gaze fixed on her as I struggled to keep my tone buoyant and casual. Honestly, only God knows the extent of my growing aversion to being in close proximity to her. What I loathe more than anything is the act of pretending, yet that’s precisely what Nianna is compelling me to do right now.
“I’m fine,” she replied hastily, almost making me chuckle in spite of myself.
“Just feeling a bit tired,” she added with a soft sigh, and I nodded in response as we continued our walk. There we were, Nianna striding alongside me, feigning nonchalance as if we were the best of friends. I would’ve found humor in this performance if it didn’t feel so painfully unfamiliar and awkward.
As we neared the noticeboard, a small cluster of students caught my attention, engaged in a heated discussion about the upcoming mid-term exams. Automatically, my eyes skimmed the list of names, landing on mine near the top and Dylan’s right above. Figures that he would be at the front of the line.
A short distance away, he emerged from behind a row of lockers, his head bowed and a phone pressed tightly to his ear. He looked different now absent was his usual lazy grin and teasing demeanor, replaced instead with a palpable tension. I noticed how his knuckles had turned white from gripping the phone so tightly, and his jaw was set in a rigid line. Despite telling myself not to stare, I found my eyes drawn to him against my better judgment.
“Vee?” Nianna’s voice jolted me out of my thoughts.
“Hmm?” I mumbled as I turned to look at her.
“Are you alright? You seemed to zone out there for a moment,” she said, her gaze searching mine.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied, forcing a smile that felt a bit too strained.
“Just thinking about the chemistry class,” I added, trying to divert the conversation, and she responded with a soft laugh.
“Nerd,” I heard her mutter under her breath, prompting me to roll my eyes in secret amusement.
DYLAN’S POINT OF VIEW
I stared at my phone as it rang, an immediate frown settling on my face. Seeing his name flash across the screen was enough to sour my mood entirely. I knew that if I didn’t answer, he would only get angrier, possibly even show up here, depending on the reason for his call.
“Good morning, Dad,” I managed to say, my voice flat and lacking any real energy—it sounded more resigned than defiant. Almost instantaneously, I was met with his grumpy voice spilling through the speaker.
“You’re in school, but somehow half the city knows about that circus you dared to call a party. Reporters are ringing my phone off the hook, Dylan. Donors! You’re turning our family name into a punchline,” he shouted angrily. I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to suppress my natural urge to reply with equal fervor.
“Dad, it was just a… party,” I mumbled, frustration evident on my face.
“A party that ended up plastered across every gossip page in town!” he barked back, his voice rising further.
“Do you even think before you act? You carried a girl. Now everyone is saying I didn’t raise you properly! Do you have any idea how much I’ve invested in maintaining our reputation? Do you really want to ruin that?” His words cut through me like a knife, and I could feel my stomach lurch.
“It’s not… it wasn’t what it looked like,” I attempted to clarify, but he interrupted me mid-sentence.
“Enough. You’re coming home after school. We need to have a serious conversation face-to-face. And Dylan, do try to stop embarrassing me,” were the last words he uttered before the line went dead.
I stared at my phone, my chest tightening with heat and irritation. This was precisely why I dreaded his calls; they were never to check up on me but always to express his dissatisfaction with something I had done that jeopardized his precious reputation. While everyone else seemed to describe their dads as confidants and friends, mine felt more like a relentless tormentor. His words continued to reverberate in my mind, echoing like static in an empty room.
Suddenly, a soft knock at the classroom door broke my reverie, and I noticed that the classroom had fallen silent, including the teacher. It took me a moment to realize everyone was staring at me.
“Dude, your mom is here,” Zayn chimed in, prompting me to turn toward the door just in time to see my mother poke her head inside. She must have been waiting in the hallway; sometimes she came by to bring me lunch from her workplace, even though I had told her time and again not to overextend herself.
“You doing okay?” she asked in a hushed voice as I stepped out of the classroom, and I swallowed hard.
“He called you too?” I asked, and she nodded as she entered the room just far enough to ensure our conversation remained private.
“You really shouldn’t take his words to heart. He’s under a lot of stress, particularly with the election season approaching…” she began, but I cut her off abruptly.
“It’s always about the election,” I interjected, frustration seeping into my voice. “It’s never about me.”
Her expression softened at my words as she stepped closer. “Then make it about you, Dylan. Prove to him you’re more than just the headlines.” I wanted to be able to embrace her comfort and her faith in me, but all I could manage was a muttered response.
“Thank you so much, Mom, but honestly, I feel like I’ll never be able to make him happy…. He insisted that I come home today, so I will after school. You really should head home yourself; I don’t want him to scold you for being here too long. I need to get back to class now, but really, thanks for the lunch,” I said, giving her a gentle kiss on the cheek before grabbing my lunch and walking past her.
VIOLET’S POINT OF VIEW
When he returned to class, he looked furiously angry. I did my best to focus on copying down notes, though I couldn’t help but sneak glances at him every now and then. He gripped his pen as if it had personally offended him, digging into the paper with an intensity that seemed almost aggressive.
When the teacher directed a question at him, he responded with a polite tone, but there was a tremor in his voice that hinted at something deeper perhaps it was anger, or maybe even pain.
At lunch, I found myself sitting with Nianna beneath the shade of a large tree that overlooked the sports field. She chattered away about her latest nail polish obsession, but my mind was elsewhere, focused on the cafeteria doors. Dylan was there with his group of friends—Zayn, Johnson, and Brian. They occupied the same table, sharing the same raucous laughter they always did, but Dylan wasn’t laughing. Instead, he stared blankly at his tray, his phone sitting untouched and forgotten beside it.
Nianna caught sight of my fixation and shot me a knowing smirk. “You like him, don’t you?” she teased. I rolled my eyes in response.
“You seriously need to find some new hobbies,” I muttered, trying to deflect her comment.
“Just saying,” she continued to tease, clearly enjoying my discomfort.
“You look at him the way some people look at their favorite dessert,” she said dramatically, sporting a fake smile that only made me roll my eyes harder.
“I look at everyone like that,” I replied dryly, though inside, my heart was racing against my wishes.
When Nianna got up to toss away her empty cup, I noticed her phone light flicker to life again, illuminating the table between us. Quick as a flash, I grabbed her phone, relieved that she had shared her password with me before.
Sasha: He seems down today. Don’t forget about the plan.
I raised my eyebrows in surprise and confusion. What in the world are they planning? I thought to myself with a sigh as I stared at the phone screen, about to scroll up to read more of their conversation when I suddenly spotted her returning. As quickly as I could, I dropped the phone back onto the table just in time for her not to notice.
DYLAN’S POINT OF VIEW
The noise of the cafeteria fell flat against my ears, almost muffled. Zayn was busy rambling on about a weekend hangout he had in mind, Brian was cracking silly jokes that usually made Johnson laugh, and yet I could only hear my father’s voice echoing in my head, incessantly repeating the word “embarrassment.”
When my phone buzzed again, a part of me almost chose to ignore it entirely.
Unknown number: Heard the Governor shouted at you. Rough day, huh? Need company?
I deleted the message before even thinking about opening it. I wasn’t in the mood for any more drama. Then, another notification caught my eye I recognized Nianna’s name as the sender.
“Hey. Please don’t ignore me… Can we talk after school? There’s something I want to tell you.”
I raised my eyebrows at the screen. Why can’t she just give me a break for once? Out of all the girls I’ve had some fun with, she is definitely the most desperate. I had to keep her number saved; if I blocked her again, there would be no stopping her from calling me from another number. The last thing I needed was that ongoing headache. But avoiding her would only stir up a different kind of drama.
“Yo,” Zayn nudged me with an elbow.
“You sure you’re okay, man?” His keen interest made me aware that the others were also watching me closely, likely because they’d seen me sigh loudly.
“I’m fine,” I replied, perhaps a bit too quickly.
“You sure? You look like you want to punch someone,” Zayn noted, and I managed a chuckle in response.
“Maybe I do,” I muttered under my breath, causing Johnson to scoff.
“Come on, just spill it,” he prodded, clearly expecting a deeper conversation.
“It’s my dad again… He’s furious I hosted that party, saying I’m ruining his reputation,” I explained, and I noticed the collective sigh that echoed through the table.
“I figured it had to do with him based on how you’ve been acting,” Zayn said, his tone understanding.
“Yeah, he told me to come home today for a face-to-face conversation,” I added, and the guys exchanged sympathetic glances.
“I don’t even know what to suggest, but just try to avoid him like you’ve been doing all this time,” Johnson commented, trying to be helpful.
“Avoid him? No way, I think you should make him realize that you’re not a kid anymore… You’re 19, for crying out loud! Why is he so determined to control your life?” Zayn chimed in, sounding genuinely frustrated on my behalf.
“Do you think we should go with you today?” they asked, and I chuckled lightly.
“Whoa, guys… I’ll be okay, I promise. I’ll fill you in on everything tomorrow,” I said, flashing a smile. I truly appreciate my friends—they’re always there for me when I need them the most.
“Alright, enough about him for now; guess what, everyone?” I announced, and immediately I could see my friends’ eyebrows shoot up in curiosity.
“There’s that classic Dylan attitude making a comeback!” Zayn chuckled, and I couldn’t help but let out a scoff in response.
“Well, you know… Nianna…… little desperado, has decided she wants to have a word with me,” I mentioned, noticing the puzzled expressions starting to creep across their faces.
“Oh, right! The so-called friend of the nerds. What on earth does she want to say to you?” Zayn queried, and just like that, we all burst into a fit of laughter.
—
NIANNA’S POINT OF VIEW
He hasn’t responded to my texts. Here I was, staring at my phone which I had discreetly placed under my desk during math class, trying my best to tune out the monotonous voice of the teacher droning on and on about some topic that seemed so unimportant right now.
My messages had been read, but he hadn’t bothered to reply. Fine, I told myself. After the final bell rings, I would hunt him down, and make sure we had that conversation—I couldn’t let this go anymore. I resignedly dropped my phone onto my desk.
Sasha’s earlier text buzzed in my mind like an irritating fly—**We’re not done with her yet.** She just didn’t get it. She didn’t understand how deeply Dylan affected me. I mean, I loved him! And while I was thankful for the help I was receiving to tackle my issues, I wished Sasha would grasp just how critical this situation was for me and reduce her bossy attitude.
In a moment of frustration, I grabbed my notebook and jotted down a thought in the corner of the page, I do it quite enough*If he could glance at me even once the way he looks at her, perhaps I could finally break free from this torment.* Almost immediately, I became overwhelmed and hastily scratched it out.
—
VIOLET’S POINT OF VIEW
The last class of the day felt like it was dragging on endlessly. Outside the window, thick, gray clouds began to gather, signaling an impending rainstorm. I noticed Nianna repeatedly glancing at the clock, clearly anxious to be somewhere else, while I attempted to appear nonchalant, doodling mindlessly at the edges of my notes, consciously trying to act as if I hadn’t noticed her quirkiness.
At last, the bell rang, and a tidal wave of students surged into the hallway, their enthusiastic chatter bouncing off the metal lockers surrounding us. My eyes darted around until I finally spotted Dylan and his group making their way to the back exit. His demeanor appeared tense, and he casually slung his backpack over one shoulder. Just then, Nianna paused next to me, briefly checking her reflection in the small mirror strip on her locker.
“I’ve gotta run now,” she announced, and I couldn’t help but let out a loud scoff.
“Well, of course we’re all leaving, Nianna; it’s the end of the school day after all,” I replied with an exaggerated sigh.
“Um, no, I’m not heading home just yet. I have an appointment to get to. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow, Vee,” she stated, her tone firm as she turned to leave.
I nodded, keeping a watchful eye on her as she walked away. heading in the exact direction that Dylan had taken, I noticed with growing intrigue. Closing my locker slowly, I caught a glimpse of my reflection staring back at me with the conviction of someone who was already aware that something unusual was about to happen.
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*TBC 😱 😱 😱
