Chapter 3 No More Chocolates

Aleli’s POV

“YOU still have the audacity to show up here after what happened?”

I heard her before I saw her.

Debbie Kiffin’s voice didn’t need volume to reach people. It slipped easily into the air, smooth and controlled like it belonged there more than anything else did.

More than me.

My steps slowed for half a second. Just enough for the words to sink in. Then I kept walking, like I didn’t hear her, like she wasn’t talking about me.

Like last night didn’t happen.

“Wow,” she added, softer now, almost thoughtful, but fake. “No reaction? That’s new.”

I tightened my grip on my bag, the strap digging into my palm as I focused on the floor ahead of me.

Don’t stop. Don’t look.

The weight of her eyes pressed against my shoulders, heavy and familiar, like something I used to carry without thinking.

But not today.

I almost made it past her. Almost. Then something caught my foot. Subtle, but felt intentional. My balance tipped forward too fast, my body failing to catch up as the world tilted under me.

My knees hit the floor hard, the force of it shooting pain up my legs as the rough surface scraped against my skin. My palms followed instinctively, catching me just enough to keep me from hitting my face, but not enough to soften the fall.

My bag slipped off my shoulder, landing beside me with a dull sound that felt louder than it should have.

Then the laughter came. 

“Oh my God—” Debbie said loudly, attracting more attention. “You’re damaging the school floor, Aleli. Be careful, you can’t afford to replace that.”

I pressed my palms against the floor, forcing myself up before the burn in my knees could register properly. My hands trembled slightly, but I pushed through it, standing up before anyone could say anything else.

Before Debbie could insult me once more.

I didn’t look at her. Instead, I grabbed the nearest thing I could. A matcha latte from one of her friends beside her.

The girl gasped. “Hey—wait—”

There was a split second where no one reacted. Then, I threw it straight at Debbie.

“What the—?!”

The drink hit her perfectly.

Cold green liquid splashed across her uniform, soaking into the fabric, dripping down in uneven streaks. The pearls followed, sticking in places they shouldn’t.

Silence fell from everyone before Debbie could react.

“Are you insane?!” She shrieked, stepping back, her perfectly composed image cracking in an instant as she looked down at herself in disbelief.

I didn’t stay long enough to see more. I grabbed my bag and ran.

I still could hear Debbie yelling my name furiously, but I didn’t stop running until I couldn’t hear them anymore.

Until the noise faded.

Until I saw them at the end of the hallway.

Kristoff.

And his teammates.

They stood there like they always did, taking up space without trying, their presence naturally pulling attention toward them.

I inhaled a deep breath and continued walking. Like he wasn’t there.

Kristoff’s gaze lifted and locked onto mine.

His brows furrowed slightly, like something wasn’t adding up. Like something was… off.

“Hey—” one of his teammates called out, his tone light, teasing. “No chocolates today?”

Another one laughed, nudging the guy beside him. “What happened? You finally gave up?”

I turned my head slightly, looking at them. Then at him. Our eyes met briefly before I looked away.

“Aleli.”

My name. From him. For the first time.

But something heavier settled over my chest. Colder. I didn’t turn around and just kept walking.

And behind me, I heard one of them mutter, “…Guess no more chocolates.”

**

“YOU’RE bleeding.”

I didn’t need to look up to know who was it.

“I’m fine,” I said quietly, my voice softer than the sound of the soccer field below.

“That’s not what I asked.”

I exhaled slowly, my grip tightening just slightly around my pencil before easing again. Still, I couldn’t make myself draw something, as if I forgot how to do it.

Malcolm dropped down beside me, his presence steady, grounding in a way that didn’t feel overwhelming.

Just… there.

“You tripped?” he asked, his tone light but his eyes already scanning my scraped knees. “I told you to not attend class today—”

“I didn’t trip,” I muttered.

He let out a quiet breath, like he didn’t believe me but wasn’t going to argue about it.

For once.

“You don’t owe anyone your whole life, you know.”

I didn’t respond. But the words stayed.

He glanced at my hands. “No chocolates,” he said.

I nodded slightly. “Yeah.”

He leaned back a little, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked out at the field. “Good.”

I glanced at him briefly, surprised. He didn’t explain. He didn’t need to.

Then, the ball rolled toward me. Until it stopped just a few inches from my foot. And for a second… I remembered standing up, picking it up, calling his name, smiling like it meant something.

But now… I didn’t move.

“Ball!” someone called out from the field, but I didn’t react.

Quick and familiar footsetps followed instead. And, I didn’t need to look up to know it was him.

Kristoff bent down, picking up the ball before straightening, his presence filling the space in front of me in a way that felt heavier now.

“You didn’t see it?” he asked.

I kept my gaze on my sketchbook and said nothing.

“Aleli.”

My name again.

I stood up and gathered my things without looking at him. “Malcolm, have you tried the new cafe in the third street—”

“Aleli,” Kristoff called me, his voice was firmer now.

I just stepped past him. But his hand caught my wrist and stopped me.

Malcolm stepped in. “Hey, Kristoff—”

“What are you doing?” he asked, ignoring Malcolm, his voice was lower now, controlled but edged with something I hadn’t heard from him before.

I stopped. Slowly, I turned and looked at him. Up close.

His jaw was tighter than usual. His brows drawn slightly together and his eyes were searching mine like he was trying to understand something that didn’t make sense to him.

“Why are you acting like I don’t exist?” he continued.

I almost scoffed, but instead I held his gaze. Cold and steady.

“Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?” I asked quietly.

He went still. Like the answer wasn’t what he expected. 

For the first time, Kristoff Ricafort had no words to say.