Keeper and the Walker

Chapter 6: The new Classmate

Flashback —

Students were restless after lunch, their voices bouncing off the walls as they waited for the professor to arrive. Lyra sat near the window, her notebook open but untouched, her gaze drifting outside.

The door creaked open. The professor stepped in, followed by someone unfamiliar. The chatter died down almost instantly.

“Class,” the professor began, “I’d like you to meet Eugene. He’s a transfer student. He’ll be joining us for the rest of the semester. Please make him feel welcome.”

All eyes turned to the newcomer. Eugene stood tall, his posture calm, his expression unreadable. He gave a polite nod, his face composed, almost distant.

The professor’s words hung in the air, and for a moment the classroom was silent. Then the whispers began.

A group of girls near the front leaned toward each other, snickering.

“Wow, look at him,” one whispered, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “He didn’t even bother fixing his hair.”

“Seriously, that outfit? He looks like he stepped out of a library from ten years ago,” another added, rolling her eyes.

“Best-looking transfer? More like the most boring one we’ve had,” a third chimed in, her voice half-teasing, half-mocking. “Total nerd vibes.”

Their laughter rippled across the room, sharp and dismissive. A few boys smirked too, nudging each other as if Eugene’s plain appearance was a joke worth sharing.

Eugene didn’t react much, his expression steady, almost detached, as if their words couldn’t touch him. His calmness only seemed to make the mocking feel louder.

On the other hand, Lyra didn’t care about the mocking she heard. The girls’ laughter, their sarcastic remarks about Eugene’s nerdy clothes and boring vibe, all washed over her without leaving a mark. She kept her gaze steady, her notebook open in front of her, uninterested in joining their whispers.

End of Flashback —

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One afternoon the sun was harsh, spilling golden light across the school rooftop. Lyra pushed the heavy door open, her bag slung over her shoulder. She wanted quiet, a place where she could eat in peace, but that peace she'd been looking for, unfortunately. The moment she stepped onto the rooftop, her breath caught.

There they were. Camille and Ivan.

They were close, too close. Ivan’s hand rested on Camille’s arm, and before Lyra could even process it, she saw their lips meet. A kiss.

Her heart dropped. The sound of her bag slipping against the concrete echoed louder than the wind. Camille pulled back instantly, eyes wide, while Ivan froze, his face pale.

“Lyra…” Ivan’s voice trembled, almost a whisper.

Ivan stepped forward, panic flashing across his face. “Love, wait, it’s not what you think.”

Lyra stood frozen, her chest tight. “Not what I think? I just saw you. Both of you. Don’t tell me I’m imagining this.”

Lyra’s voice shook as she forced the words out. “Especially when this is the second time I’ve seen you two doing these things.”

Camille’s eyes widened. Ivan’s mouth fell open. Both of them looked stunned, as if Lyra had just uncovered a secret they thought would stay buried.

“What… what do you mean?” Camille asked, her voice trembling.

Lyra’s hands tightened around her bag. Her tears threatened to fall, but she held them back. “Christmas Eve. I went to Ivan’s apartment. I wanted to surprise him. I thought it would be special. But instead, I saw you two. Together. Kissing. Just like now.”

“You… you saw that?” Camille whispered, her tone no longer soft but edged with something darker.

Lyra nodded, her voice breaking. “Yes. I saw everything. And I kept pretending it wasn’t real. I told myself I was wrong, that maybe I misunderstood. But now… now I know the truth.”

Ivan stepped forward, desperation in his eyes. “Love, listen. That night it wasn’t what you think. We were drunk, confused. It didn’t mean anything.”

Lyra’s laugh was bitter, hollow. “Not what I think? Ivan, I saw you kissing her. And today, I saw it again. How many times do you expect me to believe it ‘means nothing’?”

Ivan sighed, his voice low but steady. “Then I guess there’s no point hiding it.”

Lyra’s heart pounded. “What do you mean?”

Ivan looked at her directly, his tone cold. “I never loved you, Lyra. Not once. I only agreed to date you because you’re rich. That’s all. Your money, your status… that’s what I wanted.”

Lyra’s breath caught. “What…?”

Camille stepped forward, her lips curling into a smirk. “And me? I never cared about being your friend. I stayed close to you because of what you had—your wealth, your influence. You were useful. That’s all.”

Lyra’s tears spilled down her cheeks. “So everything… all the laughter, all the moments we shared… it was fake?”

Ivan shrugged, his voice cruel. “Fake or not, it gave me what I needed. You were easy to fool. You wanted love, and I gave you just enough to keep you blind.”

Camille added, her tone mocking, “And you wanted friendship. I gave you smiles, secrets, and comfort. But behind it all, I was only thinking of myself. You were just a way to get closer to what I wanted.”

Lyra’s chest tightened, her knees weak. “I trusted you both. I thought you cared about me. I thought… I thought I mattered.”

Ivan’s eyes hardened. “You mattered only because of your money. Without it, you’re nothing to me.”

Camille crossed her arms, her voice sharp. “And to me, you were just a door. A door to opportunities, to comfort, to things I couldn’t have on my own. You were never my sister, Lyra. You were just convenient.”

Lyra’s sobs broke free, her voice trembling. “How could you do this? How could you betray me like this? I gave you everything. My love, my trust, my friendship. And you threw it away.”

Lyra’s voice cracked as she forced a weak laugh.

“Oh right… you’re just joking around, right?” she added desperately, her eyes darting between them.