HIS HOT INTROVERT

HIS HOT INTROVERT CHAPTER 17

❤️‍🔥His Hot introvert❤️‍🔥
🏵️(The bet)🏵️

🪻WRITTEN BY CRYSTAL.O.ORI🪻

❌ DO NOT COPY OR REPOST❌

(Episode 26)

VIOLET’S POINT OF VIEW

By the time morning rolled around, it seemed as if the entire student body had been briefed on the dramatic developments between Dylan and Nianna. An oppressive hush enveloped the hallways, and I could sense the change in atmosphere before I even approached my locker; it was that peculiar quiet that settles over a space just after someone has uttered your name. Whispers drifted through the corridor like tendrils of smoke, carrying snippets of gossip that felt almost tangible.

“I saw them arguing heatedly.”

“No, it was Nianna who was actually in tears.”

“Perhaps he broke up with her.”

“Wow, who would’ve thought he was fooling around with Nianna?”

“Honestly, I feel a little sorry for the nerd—Violet, you should have witnessed the way Nianna screamed at her because of Dylan.”

“So they’re not friends anymore?”

“Yeah, I can’t say I’d want to be friends with someone like Nianna either.”

“Have you noticed her this morning? She’s already paired up with Sasha and her crew.”

“What? But didn’t Sasha have a thing for Dylan too? Isn’t that just asking for trouble?”

“I couldn’t care less. Honestly, I’ll be here for the entertainment when they start throwing punches at each other.”

“Gosh, she’s such a desperate jerk. You should’ve seen her yelling at Dylan, begging him to love her!”

As the assorted voices trailed off, I could feel their glances darting toward me while I held my head high and feigned ignorance to their chatter.

When I finally strolled into class, I nearly scoffed at the sight of Nianna already occupying a spot at Sasha’s table, laughing as if she had always belonged there. Winifred and Lily stood alongside her, the four of them radiating a glittering smugness that only those who revel in the misfortunes of others can wield.

Our eyes met briefly, and in that instant, she made an exaggerated eye roll before whispering something to her companions, prompting a burst of laughter from them. I let out a weary sigh and looked away first, resigning myself to my chair and pulling out my books.

They continued their laughter and whispered exchanges, and I caught snippets of my name amid their animated conversation. This pattern persisted until the classroom door swung open, prompting my gaze to lift, and there stood Chloe. I quickly averted my eyes to my book, but she surprised me by coming over. I noted that all eyes in the room were fixed on us. Since the incident involving Dylan, Chloe had grown increasingly quiet and distanced herself, a stark contrast to her previous status as one of the loud, popular girls. The change in her was palpable.

“Hey,” she whispered, her face adorned with a stunning smile. I had always admired her beauty—she was undeniably pretty. It was a pity she had fallen victim to Dylan’s charms. I often wondered what made them drawn to him, especially knowing all too well that he had a pattern of breaking hearts. In fact, I was convinced he intended to do the same to me. But I was determined—there was no way I’d let myself be caught up in that trap.

“Um, hi,” I replied nervously, surprised by the directness of our interaction. This was the first time she had ever spoken to me.

“How are you doing?” she asked, and I instinctively bit my lip.

“I’m good, thanks,” I managed to say.

“Would you be interested in hanging out with me during lunch? There’s something I’d like to discuss with you,” she suggested, and I raised my eyebrows in sheer surprise. Clearly, she could see my astonishment, as she erupted into laughter.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing too serious,” she assured me with a smile, one that I made an effort to return.

“Um, sure, then,” I said, finally nodding, intrigued by her invitation.

“Okay, then! I’ll see you later,” she responded, her warm smile still illuminating her face as she walked back to her own seat.

NIANA’S POINT OF VIEW

“You’re staring again,” Sasha pointed out, frowning as she nudged me from where we sat on the cafeteria bench.

“I’m not,” I quickly protested, taking a sip of my smoothie to mask my discomfort. Lily smirked knowingly.

“You definitely are. Looks like the nerd has found herself a new best friend,” she remarked, and I forced myself to laugh in response.

“Good for her,” I said, but inside, the words felt like jagged shards scraping against the walls of my heart. How could she appear so effortlessly fine? After everything that had transpired? After she had painted me as the villain in this whole saga?

As they passed close enough for me to catch a whiff of Violet’s perfume—a delicate blend of vanilla and lavender—I felt my stomach twist. For just a fleeting moment, she met my gaze, only to look away as if our eyes had never crossed. That single, small action struck me like a physical blow.

“She’s putting on a brave front now,” Sasha muttered, a hint of disdain in her voice.

“But she’ll eventually learn. Perhaps it’s time we reminded her of a few things.”

I hesitated, feeling a knot form in my stomach.

“Remind her of what?” I asked cautiously, and Sasha’s grin widened, slow and deliberate, her intentions clear.

“Who she’s dealing with.” A familiar darkness stirred within me, rekindling the reckless flame that had ignited everything from the very beginning.

“Fine,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You were supposed to keep her close, but you really messed that up. Well, it looks like you’ll be taking on a significant role in the next plan,” she remarked, and I felt my lips involuntarily press together in response, a wave of frustration washing over me.

“I couldn’t help it,” I muttered, my words barely escaping my lips before their laughter erupted around me.

“Is it because of Dylan? Oh, speaking of him… we’ve been hearing all sorts of rumors today… about you and Dylan. Come on, spill it!” Lilly teased, and I could see the self-satisfied smirk stretching across her face.

“Well, Dylan and I used to be an item, but he dumped me after just a few days,” I confessed, and an uncomfortable silence fell over the group, all eyes fixed on me.

“By ‘something,’ do you mean that you two actually dated?” Winifred inquired, her tone skeptical, and I nodded slowly.

“Yes, that’s right, but it only lasted three days,” I explained, my voice tinged with embarrassment.

“Wow, that’s interesting. So, did you guys ever, you know, get intimate?” Lilly added, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“Yes, we were intimate twice, and then suddenly he just pushed me away and called it quits,” I admitted, feeling a little more exposed with each revelation.

Sasha let out a soft chuckle, the tone light, as she leaned in slightly. “So, I’m guessing you still have feelings for him, right?” They all shared knowing glances, and I hesitated, an inner conflict bubbling beneath the surface. I had heard whispers that Sasha herself had feelings for Dylan.

“Come on, just answer us. Is it because you’re worried about the rumors of Sasha liking him? Don’t hesitate, it’s not a big deal. Sasha has a boyfriend at another school; it has nothing to do with you,” Lilly clarified, her voice reassuring as Sasha nodded in agreement.

“Nianna, she’s right! You don’t have to be afraid to tell us anything. We’re best friends now, remember?” Sasha added, her smile encouraging.

“Do you still love Dylan?” Winifred asked, and I nodded bashfully, my cheeks turning a shade embarrassed.

“Then, there’s no need for you to worry, best friend. He’s totally yours, and we’ll make sure of it,” they all chimed in unison, and I felt a smile begin to form on my lips.

“We’ll help you get Violet out of the way. Let’s remind her that she’s just a nerd, nothing more,” Sasha declared, and I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of their support.

DYLAN’S POINT OF VIEW

Everything around me appeared completely normal; however, it was as if a strange undercurrent had settled over the room, casting a shadow on the usual cheerfulness of our lunch hour. Zayn poked me playfully at our table, breaking through the haze of my thoughts.

“Did you and Nianna break up or something?” he asked, his tone light but probing.

“Come on, guys! You know we were never really together,” I shot back, trying to shake off the teasing. Their laughter rang out around me, echoing in the cafeteria.

“Yeah, I know, but everyone keeps saying it,” Zayn responded, and I chose to ignore his comment, my gaze drifting over to the other side of the room.

There was Violet, seated with Chloe, her focus fixed on her tray, barely picking at her food. Every part of me screamed to go talk to her. Yet, every haunting memory from yesterday warned me to stay away. I felt a pull toward her that I couldn’t quite explain, but Chloe’s presence made it complicated. When did they become friends? This situation was growing more complicated by the minute, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that Chloe would stand in the way of my chances with Violet. Winning this bet had become imperative, and I needed to revise every tactic I had previously used on Chloe or any of the other girls if I had any hope of capturing Violet’s heart.

VIOLET’S POINT OF VIEW

As evening crept in quietly like it always did after a long day at school I found myself slumped on my bed, my laptop open before me. I wasn’t doing anything particularly productive; instead, I was aimlessly scrolling through old playlists and half-heartedly reading various articles.

A notification flickered at the top of my screen: “1 missed call — Dylan.” I stared at it for a full minute, a mix of frustration and confusion swirling within me, before I turned my phone face down on the bed. Not tonight. In fact, not ever again; I was determined to stop answering his calls.

Instead, I opened my messages with Chloe, and she had sent me a funny meme of a cat that bore an uncanny resemblance to our English teacher.

“This is Mr. Reeves grading our essays tomorrow,” I read, laughter bubbling up as I pictured the absurdity of it all.

“Stop,” I replied, punctuating my message with a laughing emoji.

“I’m serious! I’m emotionally unprepared for another ‘B-plus, but good effort,’” she shot back, and I chuckled quietly, surprised by the sound of my own laughter. It had been a while since something had made me genuinely laugh so freely.

It’s strange how we became friends today, and yet it feels like I’ve known her for much longer. Chloe is so cool, and I’m really glad she wants to be my friend. I know I probably shouldn’t have started building new friendships right after what happened with Nianna, but I couldn’t help myself. Chloe was so kind and genuine, and she was opening up to me in ways that felt sincere. I’d have to say, my day turned out to be quite wonderful, and it was all thanks to her.

Sophie quietly poked her head into my room, her tousled hair a testament to the chaotic aftermath of her evening shower. The damp strands clung to her forehead, and her eyes sparkled with an innocence that immediately drew my attention.

“You’re smiling,” she remarked, her eyes widening with what seemed like childlike surprise—as if she had just stumbled upon a rare unicorn grazing in the backyard.

“Of course I am! Or would you rather see me sobbing?” I replied playfully, a smirk dancing on my lips.

“Hmmm.” Without any hesitation, she climbed up onto my bed, settling in next to me and causing the mattress to creak slightly.

“So… is this about that boy again?” she inquired, her tone somehow both teasing and serious, as I rolled my eyes in response. It was amusing how, despite her being quite young, she sometimes carried herself with the maturity reminiscent of our aunt Quinn.

“What boy?” I feigned innocence, my laughter bubbling up uncontrollably. It was a bit of a running joke between us that whenever Sophie yearned for a conversation, it would invariably revolve around my love life.

“The one who sweetly refers to you as ‘mon chérie’,” she continued, and upon hearing those words, I gasped in shock.

“How… how did you find out about that?” I stammered, surprised and a little flustered, while Sophie erupted in giggles beside me.

“I overheard Mum chatting with Aunt Quinn before her trip to Spain,” she revealed, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes again. It was apparent that Mum had somewhat of a loose tongue; she probably shared my so-called love life details with half of the town, let alone her friends.

“You like him,” she stated gleefully, throwing herself back onto the bed in a fit of laughter, her innocent glee infectious.

“I don’t!” I almost shouted in protest, a bit too quickly, and Sophie caught the slip, her grin widening like she’d just scored a victory.

“Okay, fine,” she agreed, folding her arms with playful defiance.

“But just so you know, if you actually do like him, why not just tell him instead of acting like you’re indifferent?” Her tone took on a mock seriousness akin to that of a relationship counselor, and I nearly burst into laughter at how ridiculously cute yet astute she sounded.

Sophie jumped off the bed before I could retort, her footsteps light as she left my room, humming a cheerful tune as she sauntered down the hallway. I reached for my phone again, my thumb hovering hesitantly over Dylan’s name. But then, I felt an odd mix of courage and mischief welling up within me, so I locked the screen and set it aside. Let him wonder for once.

*
*
*
*
**. DYLAN’S POINT OF VIEW

The morning promised to be uneventful, or at least that was my hope—just the usual routine of getting to school, keeping a low profile, and trying to pretend I wasn’t the same guy who had publicly exploded at Nianna . But then, as I wandered down the hall, I spotted her…along with her new friend Chloe. They were walking side by side, laughter bubbling forth as they exchanged whispered secrets, their shoulders brushing together as if they had been inseparable since birth.

It took a moment for my brain to fully connect the dots. Chloe. For a split second, disbelief coursed through me—I thought perhaps I was dreaming. Yet that sharp, knowing look in her eyes remained unchanged since the last time I saw her. I had thought their little meetups in the cafeteria would fizzle out and be nothing but a memory, but clearly, I was wrong. They had somehow morphed into best friends. The sight of her tilting her head slightly as she noticed me felt almost like a silent invitation; it left a twist in my stomach. Of all the potential friends Violet could have chosen, why did it have to be Chloe?

Brian, standing beside me, nudged my arm. “Yo, you alright? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“Something like that,” I muttered, my gaze still glued to the duo. Brian followed my line of sight and let out a low whistle.

“That’s Chloe, right? Didn’t you…” He started but I quickly shot him a glare, effectively cutting him off before he could say anything more.

“Don’t,” I asserted swiftly, feeling the tension rise. He held up his hands in a gesture of peace.

“Relax, man. Just wanted to check.” But relax was the last thing I was feeling. Last year had been a mess; Chloe and I had flared up into something that could barely be called a relationship—an exchange of late-night texts and a few rendezvous after class. I thought we had closed that chapter, but I’d underestimated her. I still remembered the time she warned me, “You’ll regret treating people like they’re a game.” And here she was, now hanging out with Violet, my mind racing with the implications. I tried desperately to convince myself it was pure coincidence, but deep down, I knew better. Chloe didn’t do coincidences.

When I glanced back down the hall, I caught sight of Violet making Chloe laugh. The sound of her genuine laughter seemed to cut through the chaos of everything else around me, anchoring my thoughts. Zayn elbowed me sharply.
“Dude, your face—what’s happening with you?”

“Nothing,” I replied far too quickly. Inside, however, the gears of my mind were churning through a myriad of worst-case scenarios. If Chloe decided to spill—if she revealed anything about me or the past—it could all blow up in my face and ruin the bet.

CHOLE’S POINT OF VIEW

I felt Dylan’s gaze even before I spotted him. He had that magnetic presence—the sort that somehow filled a room without uttering a single word. It was a feeling you could sense before you could even identify it. And when I finally looked up and caught his eyes locked onto mine, I noticed the sudden change in his demeanor. For just a heartbeat, he froze, locked in place, before he turned away too hastily. So, he still remember me. Good. Meanwhile, Violet was lost in her stories about literature projects or something equally mundane, but my mind was no longer on the conversation.

I could already predict how this would unfold: Dylan would start avoiding my gaze, his friends would glance in my direction and whisper, making me feel like a ghost from a chapter he wanted to forget. I’d seen this pattern play out before; I just never anticipated it being so beautifully ironic.

“Are you alright?” Violet’s voice broke through the silence in an unexpected way, startling me out of whatever thoughts had been occupying my mind. I turned to face her, and noticed how she was examining me closely, a slight crease forming between her brows—a look of genuine concern.

“I was just…lost in thought,” I replied, attempting to reassure her with a faint smile that felt a little out of place.

“You kind of spaced out there for a moment,” she observed, renewed interest flickering in her eyes.

“I’m fine, really,” I responded, though the truth was more complicated than that.

“Is it someone you know?” she ventured, curiosity evident in her tone.

“Yeah, just ran into a familiar face,” I said, choosing my words carefully as I closed my notebook and tucked it away in my bag, trying to keep the conversation light.

“Someone who pretends that nothing ever took place in the past,” I added, a hint of frustration betraying me. Violet tilted her head, her expression adventurous, as if she was attempting to decipher my vague hints. Before she could dig deeper and pry for more details, I swiftly decided to change the direction of our discussion.

“Hey, how about we tackle that essay together? You have a much better understanding of the themes than I do,” I proposed eagerly. Her face brightened at my suggestion, which was a good sign.

“Absolutely! We can meet up after school in the library,” she replied enthusiastically. That was ideal.

One important lesson I had learned about Violet was her way of building trust—slowly but completely. Once she decided to let you into her world, she was astonishingly open, sharing her thoughts without fear of judgment.

Perhaps during our study session, she might open up about Dylan. Maybe I’d glean some insight into the secrets he was trying to keep hidden this time around. And with that information, I’d have to make a choice: Should I step in and shield her from him, or should I allow him to witness the slow dismantling of everything he had built up?

VIOLET’S POINT OF VIEW

The library had consistently been my sanctuary—a realm characterized by silence, familiarity, and an almost comforting order. However, on that particular afternoon, the atmosphere felt notably different. Perhaps it had something to do with the way sunlight poured through the blinds, casting artistic stripes of soft gold onto the tables. Or maybe it was simply the fact that Chloe was sitting right across from me, her consistent pen tapping out a rhythm that instinctively synced with the pace of my heartbeat.

“Alright,” she said, pulling out a paperback novel from her bag.

“We need to dive into how the author utilizes imagery to depict internal conflict. Honestly, these essay prompts seem designed to sabotage my grades,” I laughed quietly, both in acknowledgment and shared exasperation.

“You sound just like I did last term,” she said, sharing a smile.

“You’re telling me I sound perpetually doomed?” I teased back, and her grin widened, making my heart lift.

“Absolutely correct,” she agreed, and we set to work, alternating between moments of focused effort and casual distraction. Chloe had this wonderfully calming energy that was so effective in helping me forget about the metaphorical storm brewing outside. Periodically, she would glance up, asking random questions—my favorite book, whether I had ever broken a bone, what my opinions were on people who collected fountain pens. It was strange yet oddly soothing.

About thirty minutes into our work, she leaned back in her chair, her expression turning serious as she quietly remarked, “You know, people talk about you.”

I paused mid-sentence, surprised. “Really? I’ve noticed a bit of that myself.”

“I don’t buy into a lot of it,” she continued, “but I’ve seen enough to recognize that this school thrives on gossip.”

Meeting her gaze directly, I replied, “Then you definitely know how to navigate it.”

She offered me a small, knowing smile. “Oh, trust me. I’ve learned how to deal with it a long time ago.”

For a fleeting moment, there was something deeply unreadable flickering behind her eyes—was it sadness? Anger? But just as quickly as it emerged, it vanished, replaced once more by her characteristic calm demeanor.

She closed her notebook and propped her chin on her palm. “You really don’t trust easily, do you?”

I tilted my head at her assertion. “You managed to figure that out after only, what—two days?”

“Some things are just apparent,” she replied succinctly.

I couldn’t formulate a response—not that it mattered. The silence that settled between us was no longer awkward, but rather a steady and comfortable rhythm.

As the librarian’s voice piped in, announcing that there were only ten minutes left until closing time, Chloe stood and stretched, breaking the atmosphere with her cheerful energy. “I think we make a pretty decent team, Vee.”

“Vee?” I repeated, trying to wrap my mind around the nickname.

“Yeah, it’s short for Violet. You’re not a fan of nicknames?” she asked, clearly amused.

“Actually, nobody has ever given me one besides the ‘bestie’ Nianna calls me,” I confessed, and she beamed widely.

“Well, I guess I’ll be the first then,” she said, and as I smiled back, a warm sense of affection settled over me. Vee. There was something special about it that I truly liked.

As we gathered our things and made our way out of the library, a thought struck me; my chest felt significantly lighter than it had that very morning. It had honestly been such a long time since someone had engaged with me, wanting nothing in return but companionship.

DYLAN’S POINT OF VIEW

I found myself in the library with a singular purpose: to borrow a book I had absolutely no intention of reading. It was merely a facade—a way for me to project an image of someone who, for once, pretended to care about classes. But then, amidst the rows of books, I saw them.

Chloe and Violet were seated at a corner table, their heads bent conspiratorially close together, laughter spilling out between them like a secret shared in the most intimate of whispers.

The sight immobilized me. My instinct screamed at me to turn around and exit the library quietly before either of them could catch a glimpse of me. But instead, I found myself rooted to the spot, acting like a complete fool as I observed them from behind the shelves. Brian, leaned over and muttered beside me, “Man, you’re being creepy again.”

“Shut up,” I hissed back, trying to dismiss my growing unease.

He gave a sly smirk. “Is that Chloe again I see?”

“Please, don’t finish that sentence.”
He lifted both eyebrows, a silent show of curiosity, but he remained silent.
My heart was racing so fiercely that I could almost hear it pounding in my ears, drowning out the hum of the bustling surroundings. A whirlwind of potential disasters spun through my mind—Chloe might spill everything to Violet, Violet could come to understand that she was just another pawn in this twisted game, and then, of course, there was the gut-wrenching thought of Violet hating me for everything that had transpired.

I tried to reassure myself that it wouldn’t come to that. Chloe had seemingly moved on, didn’t really care anymore, right? But then, she glanced up and met my gaze, and for the tiniest flicker of a moment, I caught sight of her expression changing—first recognition, then a fleeting smile that felt more like a cold blade than a warm welcome. That was when the uneasy realization washed over me: I was in serious trouble.

BRIAN’S POINT OF VIEW

I had been standing near the library entrance, waiting for Dylan, when I heard someone call out my name in a voice that was sharp and laced with desperation.

“Brian!” The sound of it made my stomach knot up, and I couldn’t help but frown at the unwelcome intrusion.

She was jogging toward me across me, her hair disheveled and her eyes puffy and red—clearly indicating she had been crying for what felt like an eternity. Since our last encounter, I hadn’t laid eyes on her, and to be honest, I had made a conscious decision that I didn’t want to see her again.

“Please, just hear me out,” she implored as she reached me, grabbing onto the sleeve of my shirt. I recoiled instinctively, creating distance between us.

“Don’t touch me!” I barked, my voice tinged with anger, and I could see her flinch at the sharpness of my words.

“Brian, I made a mistake,” she pleaded, her voice trembling.

“I didn’t mean for any of it to happen—the messages, Tony, all of it—”

“Just stop,” I interrupted, my tone coming out more forcefully than I intended, reverberating off the nearby lockers. A few heads turned to look at us, but I found I didn’t care one bit.

“Aria, you meant every word. You don’t accidentally lie to someone for months on end.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, glistening in the sunlight as she cried out, “I still love you—”

“Love?” I scoffed, almost laughing at the absurdity of it. “You’ve forfeited your right to use that word after everything you’ve done.”
I could see her flinch at my harsh words, but the anger that had been simmering within me since that fateful night finally erupted.

“I trusted you, Aria! I stood up for you when everyone warned me that Tony was bad news. And you’ve proven them right.”

“I was scared,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

“Then be scared somewhere else,” I shot back coldly.

“Because I’m done,” I muttered with finality.

Her face crumpled as she took a small, stumbling step backward. Just then, Dylan emerged from the library, and he caught the tail end of our heated exchange. He stood there in silence, his gaze moving between Aria, whose quiet sobs hung in the air, and me, breathing heavily with pent-up frustration.
Rather than waiting for their reactions, I turned away, feeling the weight of it all on my shoulders as I walked away.
*
*
*
*TBC 😱😱😱😱

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Back to top button