Chapter 2 - The Crown and the Cross
1218 Words
The sun spilled through the chapel windows in threads of gold, slicing through the scent of polish and old hymns.
Ami sat alone in the second pew, her Bible open but unread. Dust drifted lazily through the warm beams, and her thoughts wandered far from the verses in front of her.
It had been three days since she met Ryan Stone at the fountain.
Three days since that smile—that look—had slipped through her defenses and made her heart stumble.
Three days of praying harder than she’d prayed in years.
“Focus, Ami,” she whispered, flipping to Psalms. “You’re here to study, not… fall.”
A soft laugh floated down the aisle.
“Talking to yourself already? That didn’t take long.”
Ami looked up to see Kayla approaching, oversized sunglasses indoors and two coffees balanced in her hands.
“Good morning,” Ami murmured.
Kayla slid into the pew beside her and passed her a cup. “Do you know what time it is?”
“Ten?”
“It’s Friday. Which means the Davenport brunch starts in twenty minutes.”
Ami frowned. “Davenport…?”
Kayla groaned. “Lia Davenport. The Lia. She’s hosting brunch for the Crown. It’s basically Edenvale’s royal court.”
“I don’t think I’d fit in there.”
“You said that about the party too,” Kayla said, flicking her wrist. “Ami, you can’t hide in the chapel forever. The Crown runs this place. And Lia—well, she’s basically a queen with Wi-Fi.”
Ami let out a tiny laugh. “I don’t think queens invite scholarship girls.”
“Oh, she will. Especially if Ryan’s interested.”
Ami tensed. “Ryan?”
Kayla smirked. “Sweetheart, word travels fast. He’s been asking around. About you.”
“That’s not—”
“It’s fine,” Kayla interrupted. “Just… be careful. Ryan is”—she hesitated—“complicated.”
Everyone kept saying that. Ami wasn’t sure if it was a warning or a dare.
---
The Davenport mansion rose just off campus—sleek, glass walls and marble floors gleaming like something out of a magazine. Luxury cars lined the driveway. Laughter spilled out into the crisp autumn air.
Ami lingered at the entrance, gripping her simple leather bag. She followed Kayla inside, sneakers too loud on the polished floors.
The house shimmered—crystal flutes, silk dresses, expensive cologne. A world built for people born knowing they belonged.
At the center of it all stood Lia Davenport.
Tall, stunning, dripping elegance. Her glossy chestnut hair looked like it had been styled by angels. Her dress hugged her perfectly. She didn’t just enter a room—she claimed it.
Ami recognized her instantly. Everyone did. Student magazine covers. Charity galas. And, of course, Ryan Stone’s rumored ex.
“Kayla, darling,” Lia purred, air-kissing her cheeks. Then she turned to Ami. “And who is this?”
“This is Ami Parker,” Kayla announced.
Lia’s gaze skimmed Ami—cardigan, modest shoes, soft posture. Her smile was sweet… and freezing.
“Scholarship?”
Ami nodded. “Yes.”
“How precious.” Lia’s tone dripped honey over glass. “Welcome to the jungle, dear.”
Kayla laughed too loudly. Ami smiled politely, heat rising in her cheeks.
Then Lia’s expression shifted.
Ryan had walked in.
Conversations faltered. Gazes followed him as he crossed the room—white shirt, sleeves rolled up, hair effortlessly tousled. The kind of boy who didn’t try, yet somehow stole all the oxygen when he entered.
“Ryan,” Lia said smoothly.
“Lia,” he answered, polite and distant. “Didn’t expect you to host something this early.”
“You know me,” she said, smiling a little too brightly. “Always taking care of the Crown.”
But her eyes drifted—right to Ami.
Ryan followed her gaze.
“You two know each other?” he asked.
“Only by reputation,” Lia replied, lips curling. “The girl with the halo. She prays before exams, right?”
Ami flushed. “I—”
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Ryan said quietly, firmly.
Lia’s smile sharpened. “Of course. We all need something to believe in.”
But her laugh as she turned away was brittle.
And right then, Ami knew:
Lia Davenport had just marked her as a threat.
---
After brunch, Ami slipped into the back garden for air. The stone railing overlooked a small fountain. She leaned against it, closing her eyes.
She shouldn’t have come. She could feel it—the stares, the judgement, the unspoken rule that girls like her didn’t belong here.
But she wanted to try.
She wanted to understand what belonging even meant.
“You disappeared,” Ryan said from behind her.
She turned. “I thought it’d be better if I did.”
He chuckled softly. “You’re braver than you look. Lia doesn’t usually let people leave without being converted.”
“Converted to what?”
“Popularity.” He shrugged. “It’s her religion.”
Ami smiled faintly. “I already have one.”
“Faith?”
“Yes.”
He stepped closer, his voice lowered. “That’s… rare here.”
“Do you believe in anything?” she asked.
He paused. “I used to. My mom took me to church every Sunday. After she passed, I stopped.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged, but his eyes tightened. “People move on. My dad says faith is for the weak.”
“Then I guess I’m weak.”
He stared at her, something softening in his expression. “No. You’re just different.”
Ami turned away, cheeks warming.
“I should go.”
“Wait.”
She froze.
He handed her a folded napkin. “You left this.”
It was blank except for a tiny ink stain shaped like a cross.
“You noticed?” she asked.
“Hard to miss.”
Their eyes met—quiet, electric. Too intimate.
Then—
“Ryan!” Lia’s voice cut through the garden. “We need to talk!”
He sighed. “Story of my life.”
“You should go,” Ami whispered.
He nodded, reluctant. “See you around, Ami Parker.”
As he walked away, Lia’s laughter echoed—sharp, bright, slicing through the air.
Ami looked down at the napkin and whispered,
“Too close, Ami. Don’t touch.”
---
That night, back in her dorm, Ami sat by the window, watching campus lights shimmer like stars trapped in glass.
She thought of Lia—perfect, polished, untouchable.
She thought of Ryan—kind, confusing, dangerously captivating.
And she thought of herself—a girl trying to keep her soul intact in a world that wanted her to trade it for acceptance.
She opened her Bible to a verse she’d underlined long ago:
“Be not conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”
She read it again and again until the words blurred.
Outside, music pulsed across the quad.
Inside, Ami whispered a prayer only God could hear:
“If love is going to find me here, Lord… please make sure it won’t destroy me.”
- Writer
