My Answer?? (My POV)
370 Words
My brain stalled.
Not for a second.
Not even for a few.
For a full two minutes, I couldn’t think—couldn’t process—couldn’t move.
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People had stopped.
Actually stopped.
Eyes were on me.
Some curious.
Some shocked.
Some already whispering.
And others…
They had that look.
The one that said they’d already decided what this was.
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A prank.
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And at that point?
I agreed with them.
Because there was no way—
No way in hell—
That Martins Beaumont was asking me.
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Me.
Ellise Dawson.
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A scholarship kid.
The girl with the rusty bike.
The one people noticed only when there was something to notice.
And this?
This was definitely something.
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So why me?
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The question looped in my head, over and over, louder each time.
Why me?
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He cleared his throat again.
Soft.
Controlled.
Like he wasn’t bothered by the silence stretching between us.
“So… your answer?”
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I looked at him properly this time.
Really looked.
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He was smiling.
Of course he was.
That same effortless, practiced charm—the kind that worked on everyone.
The kind I might have fallen for…
If I didn’t know better.
If I didn’t know my place in this school.
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“Can I think about it?”
The words came out before I could stop them.
Slightly shaky.
Not as composed as I wanted.
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For a split second—
Something shifted in his expression.
Subtle.
Almost unnoticeable.
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Like he hadn’t expected that answer.
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Then it was gone.
Replaced with that same easy calm.
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“Of course,” he said.
Simple.
Smooth.
Too smooth.
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Wait…
Why does it feel like I’m forgetting something?
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And then it hit me.
Hard.
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Mrs. Diane.
The test.
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My stomach dropped.
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Without another word, I turned and rushed off toward class, my footsteps quick, uneven, desperate to make up for lost time.
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I didn’t look back.
I couldn’t.
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But I felt it.
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That gaze.
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Lingering.
Heavy.
Intent.
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Following me longer than it should have.
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And for some reason—
That scared me more than the question ever did.
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