TWENTY-FOUR
Aliya
PRESENT
“You can’t do this to me. You gave me your word!”
Ms. Grambs seems unmoved by my pleas. “I understand that you’re disappointed, but things have changed. I can’t do anything more than you’ve been told.”
She averts her eyes as if my presence discomforts her.
That damn witch.
She had promised to write a recommendation for me, which would be crucial for my college application, but now she refuses.
According to her, I’ve lost the chance to get a scholarship because of the rumors going around.
A mixture of despair and anger rises in me. “But you promised that I would get this opportunity.”
“I understand that you’re frustrated now, but I can’t write a recommendation for someone in such a light, Ms. Sierra. You have to understand that I need to protect my credibility as a teacher.”
“I haven’t done anything,” I retort. “These rumors are false. You can’t judge me based on accusations.”
With a sigh, she takes off her glasses, but her expression remains unaffected. “I’ve seen the picture of you.”
A cold shiver runs down my spine.
Heat spreads across my cheeks and I feel exposed.
“That’s not fair. You know me, you know I’m not what this picture shows.”
I can read the judgment in her eyes before she says it. “I have to think about the school’s reputation. I’m sorry, but I can’t do anything for you.”
I swallow hard, the bitterness almost rendering me speechless. Slowly, I rise from my chair to leave the room.
“Thank you for your time, Ms. Grambs.”
The door clicks shut behind me, and I have to suppress a scream burning in my throat. Now that even the teachers have labeled me a slut, I can forget about having a peaceful school life.
A deep laugh makes me snap my eyes open. Opposite me, John McKinney leans against the wall with his arms crossed, one foot propped up. His amused gaze rests on me. With a conspiratorial grin, he pushes off the wall and approaches me.
“You should’ve seen her face when I showed her the picture of you. Poor woman, she nearly had a heart attack.”
A hot flush of anger rises inside me. “You ratted me out?”
“I told you, you and I aren’t done yet.”
That fucking bastard.
Not only did I lose my chance of a recommendation because of him, but my reputation is now completely damaged.
“What are you going to do now, huh? Cry on Shane’s lap so he can rescue you from your misery? How sweet.”
My fists clench in anger, but I force myself to stay calm. I won’t let him rattle me.
“Shut the fuck up and leave me alone.”
I notice a few members of the basketball team approaching us and standing behind him. They scrutinize me, but I turn my back on them, determined not to let McKinney’s malice drag me down.
“What did she want from you?” I hear someone ask.
“I just had to reject her. It seems like she can’t get enough dicks. First Shane, now she wants mine too!” McKinney shouts loudly, so everyone in the hallway hears it clearly.
It takes all my effort to remain calm and not react to his provocations. The gazes of the other students hit me like poisonous arrows.
The thought of my integrity being trampled on so ruthlessly is unbearable.
With trembling hands and a lump in my throat, I continue walking, my eyes fixed straight ahead.
I won’t let McKinney – or rather, McBastard – break me or undermine my dignity.
Ignoring the laughter around me, I make my way to my locker to grab my books for the next class.
I won’t give anyone the satisfaction of seeing my weakness. Even though my insides tighten every time an insult is thrown at me, I’ll walk down the hallway with straightened shoulders and not break down.
My gaze meets inky blue eyes and my whole body tenses. I’m just thinking about turning around and running away, but he spots me.
Damian has a smug grin on his lips as he walks toward me.
For someone who doesn’t think much of life, you sure talk a big game.
His words from the party echo through my head.
He knows what I’ve done.
But maybe I’m wrong and it’s just a coincidence that he chose his words so boldly. After all, Damian loves to play with other people’s minds.
“What do you want?”
“You’re hurting me, Servant. I thought we were friends,” he replies, standing in front of me with his hands in his pockets, looking down at me.
“Friends don’t push each other in the water.”
“Still holding a grudge, huh?”
“I guess when someone gives me a hard time, holding a grudge seems like an appropriate reaction.”
A brief silence falls between us.
“As bold as ever.” A dangerous glint is reflected in his eyes. “If you call that hard, you’ve obviously never been through anything terrible.”
He raises his hand as if to touch me but pauses and lowers it again.
Instead, he leans down toward me and moves closer to my ear. “Or do you want me to start making your life really hard?”
I hold my breath, and unease settles in my stomach. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, but my knees are too wobbly to move away from him.
“You can’t make me feel insecure,” I lie in a firm voice. “Not anymore.”
“Is that so?”
“What do you want from me anyway? What’s your problem?”
Milan’s after me because I scratched his car. Shin’s problem was that I hit him in middle school. But Damian has no reason to ruin my life.
He just does it because he enjoys humiliating others for no reason.
“What do I want from you? That’s a good question, Servant.” An icy smile spreads across his face. “I want you to understand who’s in control here. And that you finally learn to obey.”
“I won’t give in to you. Never.”
“It’s really cute how naive you are.” A hint of smugness flashes in his eyes. “You think you won’t obey me while you’re playing by my rules, believing you’re playing your own game.”
The anger inside me flares up and replaces my fear. “I know when I’m being played.”
“And yet you’re playing right into my hands.” A shadow passes over his face. “And remember one thing, Servant. I have you exactly where I want you.”
With those words, he walks past me, leaving me stunned and furious.
I haven’t seen Milan even once today.
And although I should still be holding a grudge against him, I’m looking for him in the crowd.
When I read a certain letter at the weekend, which was definitely not meant for my eyes, I could hardly sleep.
The envelope contained more than one letter. But after reading the first one, the guilt overwhelmed me, and I put them all back into the book.
Kilian’s letters to Stitch.
I never would’ve thought that Stitch was Milan’s nickname. I had even pondered whether it might be a biker gang or some other criminal organization. Now that seems absurd to me.
Nevertheless, it’s none of my business why Kilian wrote letters to Milan, although my fingers are itching to read further and find out what exactly weighed so heavily on Kilian’s mind. Something he couldn’t tell Milan in person and had to write down on paper.
Just as I come to a halt in front of my locker, I spot him. Milan is talking to Raelyn at the end of the hallway.
The memory of him going after her older sister and leaving me alone in his house plays out in my head.
I feel the familiar inner tension.
As I watch him approach, the unmistakable attraction mixes with insecurity. Is he still as cold as he was in the car?
My heart leaps as his piercing gaze lands on me for a brief second, and for a moment I feel frozen.
Hesitantly, I reach into my bag to pull out the book and hand it back to him. With all my courage, I make my way to him and Raelyn.
“I wanted to-”
My words cut off abruptly as he walks right past me without stopping or giving me the slightest bit of attention. I stiffen, feeling the heat of humiliation rise to my face. Raelyn casts a quick glance my way before following him.
I still remain there, the echo of my unsaid words in my head. Disappointment floods my body as I look after him.
“Did you see that? He just left her standing there.”
“How pathetic that she still wanted to talk to him.”
“I heard she’s seeing John McKinney now.”
“I heard that too. Never thought Sierra was such a whore.”
The laughter and voices of my classmates echo in my ears. My chest tightens instantly, and I quickly turn to my locker so that no one notices how much his ignorance affected me.
In the past few weeks, I wanted him to ignore me, to leave me alone. I longed for my old school routine, where no one knew of my existence, and I was treated like a ghost. Where he didn’t even know my name.
But now, as I stare at the cold metal, I realize that his indifference hurts more than I ever could have imagined.
I always wanted to stay unnoticed, but now that he just walked past me without even acknowledging me, I don’t feel invisible – I feel erased.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath in and out.
I will not cry.
Will not cry.
Not cry.
I haven’t shed a tear in years and I certainly won’t shed one for him now.
What did I expect anyway? That he would suddenly change? That he would treat me differently after what happened between us?
I can’t let him control my life.
I don’t need him. But …
I shake my head and open my locker. No buts.
Just as I’m about to put my history book back in, I notice the many unfamiliar notes scattered inside, which don’t belong to me. They’re scattered everywhere, probably thrown in carelessly.
I already have an idea of what these notes mean. But instead of throwing them away and saving myself another headache, I pull out the first note.
“Fucking die, bitch.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. With trembling hands, I crumple the note. I feel another wave of tears welling up inside me and try to fight them back. But all the events of the last few days and weeks weigh on my shoulders like a burden.
Damian’s threat.
Lio’s lie about his identity.
Daniel’s return.
The rumors.
Milan’s cold rejection.
And the words: Fucking die.
None of this is fair. Not even for someone like me.
And although I tell myself I’m not going to cry, this time I can’t manage to keep my resolve.