Chapter 3 Changing the narrative

Valeria's POV

My mom didn't take it easy on me that morning. Whatever affected me affected her twice as much. Especially when it came to flaws in perfection. I could say I got that trait from her.

She advised me not to ditch school that morning. She told me to show up with my chin high, head held high like a Whitmore.

And that's what I did. I refused to let myself get buried in shame.

When I walked down the hallway that morning, the stares followed as usual. But this time, they came with whispers, giggles and mockery.

My fingers curled tightly around the strap of my bag as I walked, my head held high.

When I got to my locker, I practically buried my head inside it just to escape the humiliation for a second and to take a slow, steady breath.

A loud clang jolted me. The locker beside mine slammed open.

“Ugh, Tessa,” I groaned softly, relieved she had finally shown up.

I pulled my head out to speak with her. I just wanted to rest my head on her shoulder.

“Tes, I shouldn't have ignored you last night,” I said, not bothering to look up.

I leaned against her, expecting her familiar warmth.

Except… something felt wrong. Tessa wasn't this tall. And her shoulder definitely wasn't this hard and solid. She didn't smell like this either.

I frowned.

My hand lifted instinctively, slowly brushing against what I suspected was a chest. A very broad chest.

Oh no. No, no, no.

Slowly, I tilted my head upward. I froze.

Broody.

I was leaning on him.

Up close in the bright hallway lights, he looked even more striking than he had the previous night. The hood shadowed part of his face, but not enough to hide how he was staring at me with those same eyes that seemed to observe everything without saying much.

My gaze drifted to the tiny scar near his eyebrow. Then lower. To his slightly parted lips.

For a ridiculous moment, I found myself staring too long.

And then, it hit me. I realized what position I was in. My head was resting against his chest, my arm lightly braced against him for balance.

I immediately pushed away from him like I'd touched a live wire.

“I…I'm…I'm sorry,” I stuttered an apology, mortified. “I thought you were someone else.”

For a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes—amusement. Then it disappeared again.

He didn't say a word. He just pulled his hood lower and returned to his locker.

Taking a quick glance around, I realized people were still looking.

I could already imagine the next rumour—that I'd stooped so low to talk to a scholarship boy. Great.

“How come your locker is next to mine?” I asked, mostly out of curiosity while rummaging through my locker for absolutely nothing.

He didn't respond at first, I almost thought he hadn't heard me.

I didn't ask again.

Until.

“Tessa Monroe switched her locker with mine,” he said, his voice a soothing balm.

“Oh.” I remembered her saying she wanted to stay closer to her boyfriend. I had completely forgotten.

I grabbed a book from my locker and shoved it into my bag. When I dared glance up again, he was still standing there, watching me.

The way he was looking at me was unsettling. Not in a bad way, just... intense. I didn't know what to do with that.

So I broke the silence. “Thank you for last night.”

He raised his brows.

“You saved me from yet another doom," I said. “I would have landed on the floor when I was pushed. You caught me.”

“Oh, that was nothing.”

His damn voice. Oh Lord.

“Well, well, well,” a familiar voice interrupted from behind me. “Look who decided to show up.”

Scarlett.

My throat went dry.

Slowly, I turned.

She stood a few feet away, her glossy hair falling over one shoulder. Her arms were folded, lips curved into a cruel smile.

Beside her was Mason, hands in his pocket with a relaxed posture.

The audacity of these two to stand in front of me after what they did last night was something I couldn't understand.

Scarlett tilted her head slightly. “I honestly didn't expect you to come to school today,” she said. “Mm… you're braver than I thought.”

I ignored her, fixing her with one of my coldest glares.

A few students nearby slowed down, clearly interested in the show. Of course. Nothing entertained them more than drama.

“Is there something you want?” I asked calmly.

No reply.

“You wanted me to confront you about last night, right? So I'd break down, and the whole school would call me soft.” I took a slow breath. “I didn't choose to do that, and now you've come to me. What exactly do you want?”

Scarlett's eyes narrowed slightly—surprise written on her face.

Oh, their ego was so bruised. I didn't react the way they expected.

Mason let out a soft chuckle. “Come on, Val. Don't —”

“Don't you dare.” I raised my index finger at him. “You have no right to shorten my name or to call me anything familiar… or to address me by any endearments. Do you understand?”

Scarlett snickered. “You're so hurt. Oh, Miss Perfect. Who's in the mud now?” She laughed again. “I'm sure you cried like a baby last night.”

She made a fake pity face. “Aw. I'm so sorry.”

I looked away and slammed my locker shut, the sound echoing through the hallway.

She didn't stop talking. “Did you really think I was following you because I wanted you to be my friend?”

I clenched my jaw. I had been such a fool for allowing that. Tessa warned me. She never liked Scarlett from the beginning.

“No. That wasn't the plan.” She stepped closer. “I wanted to take your place. I wanted everything that belonged to you. And gradually...” She smiled. “I'm getting all of it.”

No. I won't let her humiliate me any further.

“Fine,” I said coldly. “You can have everything. My positions, captain of the cheerleading team. My cheating, pathetic excuse of an ex boyfriend. But let me tell you one thing you can never have.”

I stepped even closer to her. “My academic status.”

A ripple of hushed laughter moved through the hallway.

Scarlett's cheeks turned red as she took a step back.

“Oh, please,” Mason cut in. “You're not that special. Everyone knows you just like seeking for attention.”

“Mason,” Scarlett called sweetly. She leaned in and kissed him briefly before turning back to me. “You see. I don't even have to beg for his love. Unlike you.”

The insults flared hot in my chest, but I didn't let it affect me.

“Enjoy the attention while it lasts,” I said evenly. “It might be the only interesting thing either of you ever does.”

Scarlett leaned slightly closer. “Maybe next time, don't beg a guy for attention on camera.”

My pulse raced. She knew exactly how to get to me.

But no. I wouldn't let her.

An idea formed.

I smiled, taking a step backward. I knew what they wanted. They wanted a show. And I would give them one.

If they thought Mason was the only guy I could ever want… they were about to be proven very wrong.

I turned, and my eyes met Broody’s. There was this smile on his half-covered face that I couldn't shake off. Like he was proud of me. Proud of this moment.

It steadied me.

I smiled wider.

“Mason, you think I'm desperate for you? Watch this.”

I stepped closer to Broody, stopping in front of him. For a second, I just stared at him. And he stared back, his attention fully on me.

I reached forward and grabbed the front of his hoodie.

He inhaled sharply.

I tightened my grip slightly and rose onto my toes. Our faces were now inches apart. My heart was pounding so loudly I could barely hear anything else.

His grey eyes searched mine in confusion.

Maybe this was a terrible idea. Actually, it was.

But I stopped myself from overthinking.

I closed the distance and pressed my lips to his.

The hallway exploded into whispers and gasps.

I barely heard any of it. My focus remained on his lips which were warm beneath mine. Warm and soft.

He went completely still beneath my touch.

The reality of what I was doing crashed over me all at once. I was kissing a guy whose real name I didn't even know. A guy I'd never spoken to until this morning. This was definitely a terrible idea.

Heat rushed into my cheeks.

The kiss lasted only a few seconds, just long enough to rewrite the story.

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