HER UNREQUITED LOVE

ANGEL

When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the grueling period, the classroom erupted into the loud chaos of scraping chairs and packing bags. I let out a long, shaky breath, eager to escape the suffocating atmosphere. I packed my pens and grabbed my notebook, ready to bolt out the door. But when I tried to stand up, I couldn't.

A resistance yanked my right back down. I blinked, confusion flaring before a sickening realization washed over me. I shifted, trying to pull away sideways, and a ripping sound echoed quietly under my desk. The thick, gooey pink bubblegum Vanessa and her minions had placed on the chair had completely melted into the fabric of my school skirt. With every desperate pull, the sticky, stringy mess only stretched further, completely ruining my uniform and locking her to the plastic seat.

A chorus of high-pitched giggles erupted right beside her.

"Oh, look, the charity case found a new friend," Vanessa sneered, slinging her designer bag over her shoulder.

"Fits her perfectly. Sticky and cheap," Chloe laughed, tapping her manicured nails against Vanessa's arm.

Mia just smirked, whispering loud enough for the departing students to hear: "Have fun walking the halls like that, Aria."

The three of them strutted out of the classroom, entirely unbothered by the humiliation they had left behind. In fact, the entire class walked right past Aria, either staring with mocking amusement or looking away completely uncaring. Even Mr. Adams was already gone, having rushed out to a faculty meeting. Aria was utterly alone.

Tears pricked her eyes as she gave one final, desperate tug. She managed to break free from the chair, but a massive, pink gum and gray residue remained horribly stuck to the back of her plaid skirt.

Shame burning like fire in her veins, Aria clutched her backpack tightly against her backside and hurried out into the hallway. But concealment was impossible. The moment she stepped into the corridor, the whispers began. Snickers echoed off the lockers. Group chats were likely already buzzing. Students pointed and openly mocked her as she walked past, her head bowed, her long black hair falling forward like a curtain to hide her burning face.

Somehow, she managed to stumble her way to her locker. Her hands shook so violently she could barely turn the combination dial. When the metal door finally swung open, Aria leaned against it, fighting the tight, whistling wheeze building in her chest. She needed a miracle.

And there, resting on the top shelf, she saw it. It was a long, beautifully woven emerald-green scarf—the very last piece of clothing her father had left behind before he vanished from their lives. It was her absolute favorite possession, a fragile anchor to a memory she still cherished. Without hesitation, Aria pulled the scarf down and carefully wrapped it around her waist, tying it securely into a knot. It hung perfectly, completely covering the humiliating stain on her skirt.

Taking a deep, trembling breath, she gripped her backpack straps and headed toward the cafeteria for lunch.

When she pushed open the grand double doors of the dining hall, the sheer excitement of the room hit her. The Oak Haven cafeteria looked like a five-star royal banquet hall. High vaulted ceilings with crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over polished mahogany tables. The food stations were catered by professional chefs, offering everything from fresh Atlantic salmon and grilled waggy beef sliders to artisan pastries and imported sparkling waters. The prices on the digital menus were astronomical—a single organic lunch combo here cost more than what Aria's mother earned in a full day of hard labor at the hospital. Aria couldn't afford a single crumb.

The moment her worn loafers stepped onto the marble floor, the loud chatter of high society sharply died down. Heads turned. Eyes locked onto her. Everyone stared at her, scanning the emerald scarf around her waist with judgment and amusement.

Aria swallowed the lump of pride in her throat. Keeping her eyes glued to the floor, she navigated through the sea of wealthy students, moving past the popular tables to the absolute furthest, darkest corner of the cafeteria.

She sat down at an empty, isolated table. With trembling hands, she unzipped her bag and pulled out a small, slightly dented plastic container. Inside was a modest lunch cooked lovingly by her mother: a simple portion of white rice and a neatly folded egg. Compared to the lavish, steaming plates around her, but to Aria, it was a symbol of her mother's love and loyalty.

Aria closed her eyes, bowing her head quietly. "Thank you for this food, and please give me the strength to survive today," she gave silent thanks.

She opened her eyes, picked up her fork, and was just about to take her very first bite when a booming, irritatingly familiar voice shattered her peace from right above her.

"Well, well. Look what we have here, boys."

Aria's blood ran cold. She slowly looked up to see Andre, the fierce, arrogant captain of the basketball team, towering over her table with a cruel smirk plastered across his face.

Andre didn't just stand there; he deliberately kicked the leg of Aria's chair with his heavy sneaker, causing her plastic container of rice to rattle. He was flanked by two of his towering basketball teammates, both of them grinning as if they were watching a pre-game warm-up.

"Look at this, boys," Andre announced loudly, gesturing toward his desk with a dramatic wave of his hand. "Oak Haven's finest catering. What is that, Aria? Did your mom scoop that up from the hospital cafeteria leftovers?"

Aria gripped her plastic fork until her knuckles turned white. "It's just lunch, Andre. Please leave me alone."

"Please leave me alone," Andre mocked in a high-pitched, whiny voice, making his teammates erupt into snickers. He leaned down, placing both palms flat on her table, invading her space until she could smell the expensive, minty chewing gum on his breath. "You know, the smell of your cheap food is ruining the appetite of everyone in this section. And what is that ugly green thing wrapped around your waist? Did you steal a curtain on your way out of the house?"

At a table a few yards away, Vincent sat completely alone. He stopped cutting his meat and turned his head, his dark eyes locking onto Aria's trembling form. For a long, quiet moment, he just stared at her—his expression unreadable, a silent witness to the escalating cruelty. But as quickly as he had looked up, he drifted right back into his own world, quietly lowering his gaze back to his plate, completely detached.

"Oh, Andre, you're giving her too much credit. It doesn't even look like real food."

The sharp, venomous voice signaled the arrival of Vanessa. Flanked by Chloe and Mia, she strutted over with a wicked smirk. Before Aria could even pull her container away, Vanessa reached down with her manicured nails, snatched the plastic bowl, and flipped it entirely upside down.

The white rice and egg fell straight onto Aria's lap, staining her hands and spilling all over the floor.

The entire cafeteria erupted into a roar of brutal laughter. Tears instantly blurred Aria's vision. Suffocating on the humiliation and the tightening in her chest, she pushed her chair back, broke through the circle of her tormentors, and ran out of the double doors in deep sobs.

She sprinted blindly down the hallway until she hit the girls' washroom. Slamming the door shut, she locked herself inside a stall, collapsing against the metal door as she cried painfully. Every sob shook her fragile frame, her lungs burning as she fought against a rising asthma flare-up. For minutes, the world was just darkness and shame.

Then, a soft, hesitant knock rattled the stall door.

Aria froze, holding her breath. "Who... who is it?" she sniffed, wiping her eyes.

"Um, hello? Are you okay in there?" a gentle, melodic voice asked.*

Slowly, Aria unlocked the latch and pushed the door open. Standing there was a girl who looked like an absolute painting. She had soft, porcelain skin, wide slate-gray eyes framed by thick, dark lashes, and beautifully styled honey-blonde hair that fell in soft waves past her shoulders. Even her uniform looked impeccably tailored, which made sense—she belonged to the Rodgers family, one of the most prominent, elite high-fashion designer dynasties in the city.

The girl offered a warm, sympathetic smile and gently handed Aria a handful of clean tissues.

"Hey. I'm Olivia, from your Chemistry class," she said softly. "I know we've all been total cowards just watching Vanessa and her brothers bully you all this time... but I'm honestly so fed up with it. You seem like a really nice girl, and you don't deserve this."

Aria stared at her, completely stunned. In all her time at Oak Haven, not a single soul had ever reached out to help her.

Olivia didn't care about the mess. She stepped forward and genuinely helped Aria clean the spilled food from her hands and uniform. Reaching into her own designer tote bag, Olivia pulled out a brand-new, neatly folded Oak Haven school skirt.

"Here. I always keep a spare in my locker for fashion emergencies. It should fit you perfectly."

As Aria took the clean fabric, a sudden wave of hope and joy washed over her battered spirit. Her heart swelled, and she silently closed her eyes for a brief second, thanking God in her heart for answering her morning prayers and sending her an angel when she needed it most.

"Thank you so much, Olivia," Aria breathed, her voice cracking with genuine gratitude.

"Don't mention it. We have to stick together," Olivia smiled, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze. "Now, let's get changed. We should walk back to class before the bell rings."