Rumored To Be His

chapter 3

I lay on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as sleep continued to evade me. My body was exhausted after the long day, every muscle aching for rest, yet my mind refused to cooperate. Thoughts moved endlessly through my head, replaying everything that had happened over and over again until I felt as though I would lose my mind.

Damon.

His face.

His words.

And that strange, unsettling feeling that seemed to take hold of me whenever he was around.

I turned onto my side and pulled the blanket closer to my body, as though hiding beneath it could somehow shut him out of my thoughts.

“Forget about him,” I whispered to myself.

But saying it was much easier than actually doing it.

The room was completely silent, yet my thoughts were louder than anything around me. I closed my eyes, hoping exhaustion would eventually pull me into sleep, but instead, memories of Damon continued to fill my mind. I remembered the way he looked at me and the strange intensity in his eyes whenever our gazes met. There was something about him that I couldn't understand. Sometimes, he seemed cold, distant, and completely impossible to read. Other times, however, I caught something different in his expression—something softer, something almost familiar—but it always disappeared before I could understand what it meant.

It made me feel as though there was something he wasn't telling me.

Something important.

I sighed heavily and sat up, running a hand through my hair.

This was ridiculous.

I barely knew the guy, yet somehow, he had managed to occupy my thoughts as though he had always been a part of my life. I didn't understand why I was thinking about him so much, and the harder I tried to push him out of my mind, the more determined my thoughts seemed to bring him back.

Why did Damon affect me like this?

Annoyed with myself, I shook my head and forced myself to lie back down.

Tomorrow was another day.

And whatever happened, I needed to be ready for it.

The next morning arrived much faster than I expected.

I woke up feeling tired and groggy, as though I had barely slept at all. For several seconds, I remained in bed, staring at the ceiling and gathering enough strength to move. Every part of me wanted to stay there a little longer—to forget about my responsibilities and hide beneath the warmth of my blanket—but I didn't have that luxury.

I had responsibilities.

I couldn't afford to waste time.

With a tired sigh, I forced myself out of bed and began preparing for the day. I moved through my morning routine mechanically, trying not to think too much about how exhausted I felt. But as I stood in front of the mirror and adjusted my uniform, my thoughts drifted somewhere they absolutely shouldn't have.

Damon.

I froze.

“No,” I muttered firmly to my reflection.

I was not going to start another day thinking about him.

I had more important things to worry about.

My scholarship.

My studies.

My jobs.

My future.

Damon was supposed to be the least of my problems.

After getting ready, I grabbed my bag and hurried out of the house. The streets were already busy, filled with people rushing from one place to another. Cars moved past, voices filled the sidewalks, and everyone seemed to be carrying their own worries, responsibilities, and problems.

I understood that feeling perfectly.

For as long as I could remember, my life had been one responsibility after another. I was constantly working just to survive, constantly moving because there was always somewhere I needed to be or something I needed to do. Between school, work, and everything else waiting for me, there was barely enough time to breathe.

And somehow, in the middle of all that chaos, Damon had appeared.

I shook my head as I continued walking.

Why did everything suddenly feel so much more complicated?

The moment I arrived at school, however, I immediately sensed that something was different.

People were gathered together in small groups, speaking quietly among themselves. Their voices lowered whenever someone else approached, and the strange atmosphere immediately made me slow down. There was an uneasy tension in the air—something I couldn't quite explain but could clearly feel.

“What happened?” I asked, looking from one person to another.

No one answered.

Instead, they exchanged strange, uneasy looks.

That was when I felt it.

Something was wrong.

My eyes slowly moved around the room, searching for an explanation. Then they landed on the one person I had been trying so desperately not to think about.

Damon.

Of course.

He was there.

Standing calmly as though he belonged there, as though he hadn't spent the entire night turning my thoughts upside down without even knowing it.

Our eyes met.

For one brief moment, neither of us said anything.

Then he started walking toward me.

My heart immediately began to race.

I hated that reaction.

I hated that he could affect me so easily without doing anything at all.

“Good morning,” he said when he reached me.

His voice was calm.

Too calm.

“Morning,” I replied, trying my best to sound unaffected.

I attempted to walk past him, pretending that my heart wasn't beating faster than usual, but his next words stopped me.

“We need to talk.”

Slowly, I turned around and faced him.

“About what?”

Damon stared at me for a moment, and something in his expression changed. The calmness on his face faded, replaced by a seriousness that immediately caused my stomach to tighten.

“I think you're in trouble,” he said quietly.

My heart skipped a beat.

“What?”

His eyes moved around the room as though he were checking to make sure no one was listening. Then he stepped slightly closer to me.

“Not here.”

I stared at him, completely confused.

“What do you mean, not here?”

Damon didn't answer immediately.

And somehow, his silence frightened me more than his words.

I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to hide the nervousness slowly building inside me. My mind raced with questions, each one more frightening than the last.

“You're not making any sense.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “But you have to trust me.”

I almost laughed.

Trust him?

That was the problem.

I didn't even know who Damon really was.

The more time I spent around him, the more I began to realize that there were things about him that he was hiding. Important things. Things he wasn't ready to tell me. Things that, somehow, I had a feeling could change everything.

“What exactly are you trying to tell me?” I asked, my voice becoming more serious.

Before Damon could answer, someone suddenly called my name.

I turned toward the sound.

Only for a second.

But when I looked back at Damon, his expression had changed completely.

The seriousness was gone.

The tension in his eyes had disappeared.

It was almost as though our conversation had never happened.

As though he hadn't just told me that I was in trouble.

But I knew better.

Something was wrong.

And whatever Damon was hiding from me, I had a feeling that I was about to discover the truth.

Very soon.