HE SAID I WAS JUST A BET

Maria walked through the school hallway, her heart pounding in her chest. Whispers followed her every step, and eyes—mocking, pitying—burned into her skin. Something wasn’t right. She reached her locker and opened it slowly. A folded note fell out, fluttering to the ground like a dead leaf. With shaking hands, she opened it. "She was just a bet. Nothing more." The handwriting was familiar. Her fingers trembled as she clutched the note. Her breath caught. Her vision blurred. "No… it can’t be." Her mind flashed back to the moments—the late-night calls, the surprise flowers, the sweet nothings he whispered in her ear. Were they all lies? The crowd around her parted as he approached—Daniel. Tall, confident, his smirk twisted in a way that made her stomach churn. "You weren’t supposed to find out like this," he said casually, as if he were talking about the weather. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "So, it’s true," she whispered. He looked away. That was all the answer she needed. Her heart shattered, but her pride held her together. She walked away, head high, each step echoing like thunder in her ears. Behind her, students murmured, but she didn’t care. Let them talk. Let them stare. She wasn’t going to break. Not in front of them. Not for him. Everything had changed.