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.

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 as I leaned in. 

Except… it wasn't a shoulder. It was hard. Solid. Warm.  

I raised my hand to feel what I had leaned on only to realize it was a hard chest.

Oh no. No, no, no.

Slowly, I tilted my head upward. I froze. 

Mr. Broody.

I was leaning on him.

Up close in the bright hallway lights, he looked even more striking than he had the previous night.

He looked down at me with those same eyes that seemed to observe everything without saying much.

Just then, 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 my best friend.”

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 and shut my locker. I shoved the book 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 last night. 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 giggled. “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 touch.” 

I stepped even closer to her. “My academic status. I'm way up here,” I gestured at the level of my head then crouched slightly. “And you're down here.” I gestured at my knee level.

Hoots and whistles erupted around us.

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

“Oh, please,” Mason cut in. “Everyone knows you're just a desperate… baddie.” He let out a mocking laugh, and the crowd followed. 

“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.

An idea formed.

I smiled. “I know what you want. You both want a show.” I took a step backward. “Fine. I'll give you 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 Mr. 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 Mr Broody, grabbing the front of his hoodie. Because he was tall, I had to rise onto my toes.

Our faces were now inches apart.

His grey eyes searched mine in confusion.

My heart was pounding so loudly I could barely hear anything else.

Then, I kissed him.

The hallway exploded into whispers and gasps.

His lips were warm beneath mine. The kiss lasted only a few seconds, just long enough to rewrite the story.