Chapter 6 Hands to help or to break

[ESTELLA]

Just as quickly as they forget this loser, they get right back to enjoying the party. But this tall man with light blond hair leads me away from there.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice soft and low. The way he looks at me makes me feel even smaller; I don’t know if he’s just like Martin’s other friends—so I walk on without answering.

But he holds my shoulder.

“Sorry,” he says, then takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over my shoulders.

“My name is Laurent Baker, if you don’t mind—”

“Sorry, I gotta go.”

I leave him, and the party, as if I’ll never step foot in Martin’s world again. I’d probably take this pain to my bedroom, crying all night; thinking later about the consequences of standing up to my master’s son.

Then, as expected; Martin doesn’t come back to the apartment for over a week. He also doesn’t show up for school, and I’m sure he’s busy whining to his father to have me expelled, or to get a new school for himself.

What’s clear is that I made our already cold relationship even colder, but I don’t regret it. Martin deserve that slap, and if you’re worried about his parents’ reaction; as long as Martin’s father isn’t mad, that means I’m safe.

His dad even apologized for what Martin said about my mom, considering my mom had worked there before she became Martin’s nanny.

I’m fine even after I declared I’d stop liking the boy who never acknowledged I existed. The only consequence I hate from dealing with Martin is how his fanbase treats me at school.

Every day since that night, they’ve played the audio of my love confession all over the school, making me walk through the hallways to people’s jokes and taunts.

Then, my locker is never clean of trash; most of it consists of papers with insults directed at me, or at my love confession.

“Hey, look at our little princess…”

“You guys have seen that video, right?”

“Oh my gosh, Susan, that was a week ago. How long are you guys going to keep talking about that kid and her master?”

“I don’t know, maybe until she and that shameless ass stop showing up in my sight?

I’m immune to it now, though every time I hear them talk, my heart feels like it’s been stung by a bee. I keep walking to class, to see what they’ll write on my table.

‘Have you found your new mom yet, chick?’

‘You delusional slut! You think you’re Cinderella, huh?’

‘Martin should be able to take care of you and kick you out of here!’

‘Get lost! I’m sick of your fake innocent face!’

I sigh, then grab a cloth to wipe off the marker scribbles. My desk is like a free canvas, but what’s painted on it isn’t nice.

“Don’t they have anything better to do than bother me? Why every single day? Is there no one else they have to deal with besides me?” I grumbled, rubbing hard but to no avail.

I also just realizing that the scribbles aren’t just from a permanent marker, but also from a sharp object—maybe a utility knife or scissors.

“Shit.”

“Estella Jules, no swearing in my class!” My shoulders jerked up at the teacher’s voice. I was unaware that everyone had already entered the classroom for the first lesson.

“What are you doing? Sit down right now.”

I sit down, hoping the teacher won’t come over—but I forget that her eyes are even sharper than mine.

“What happened to your desk?”

“No—”

“Don’t try to cover it with your bag; I can see it!”

I say nothing while the others start laughing at me quietly. I thought the teacher would defend me, but instead she says,

“Take that out and clean it up outside!”

“But Mrs. Kate, I didn’t scribble on it!”

“It’s your desk—your responsibility. Why did you let someone else scribble on it?” I raise one eyebrow, not understanding why I’m the one being blamed.

Not wanting to argue—I know I'll just end up being blamed anyway. I drag my desk outside while they start taunting me, and the teacher doesn't stop them.

“Take it all, Nerd!”

“Mrs. Kate, have you seen that Cinderella love confession video? Why are you doing this to her?”

“Stop it. Focus on the lesson.”

I catch a glimpse of her; the teacher’s eyes don’t look like she’s trying to stop them from laughing at me.

Ah, damn. What could be worse than being everyone’s joke?

I take the desk out to the open yard, since there’s a water tap and a hose there. But actually, that’s not such a good decision because the yard is behind Martin’s classroom—and everyone in his class must be watching me—especially Silvia.

I rub the surface vigorously with a rough sponge and soap, rinsing it quickly so I wouldn’t have to stay there long. But just as I’m about to take the table away, Silvia is already standing behind me—of course, with Fanny and Alexa.

And another girl I don’t know, but I know she’s Silvia’s friend.

Silvia pushes my table, pressing it down as if to stop me from leaving.

“It’s been a while since we last talked, hasn’t it?” Silvia asks, and since my relationship with Martin has also been terrible, I no longer hesitate to meet her gaze.

“Are you curious where Martin went that he didn’t come back to his apartment?”

“That’s none of my business,” I say, trying to leave but Silvia blocks me again.

“Hey, aren’t you his nanny? You should know where your kid goes—you’re supposed to be responsible, right? What if he’s missing? What if he’s lost?”

“Or what if he’s been at Silvia’s house all this time?” Fanny interrupts, and Alexa and Silvia shoot her a sharp look but don’t do anything to her.

Even so, I have no reason to care. But Silvia just stands closer, her face haughty.

“Oopsie… I can’t hide it anymore—Martin is more comfortable living with me,” Silvia says, teasing me again.

I sigh, facing her with boredom in my eyes at her attitude.

“Why does this sound like you’re meddling with your husband’s first wife, Silvia?”

The woman’s eyes wide, before her laughter clearly belittled me.

“Get out of your crazy imagination, you Nerd Cinderella! Who are you to call yourself the ‘first wife’?”

“Then stop giving me useless information like this. I really don’t care where Martin goes, where he sleeps, or what he wants to do.” Silvia’s laughter fade, turn into anger at my bold reply.

“I also don’t care that you bring him to your house just like you brought all your boyfriends in."

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