Chapter 3 Who Is He?
1070 Words
Carly's POV:
I never expected to see John in a place like this. He was once my sponsor.
I was grateful that he paid for my previous tuition, so I didn't want to rely on him anymore for college.
I wanted to save up enough money on my own and then apply to the dance school I'd always dreamed of.
John tried to persuade me to let him continue paying for my college tuition, even offering to get me a recommendation letter, but I declined.
I didn't want to burden him any further because I knew he'd been going through some financial difficulties lately.
By the time I got home, it was already 4 AM. Exhausted, I dragged myself into the shower.
The next morning, I was jolted awake by the blaring sound of my alarm clock.
My grandma, Ella, was already up, and she seemed in good spirits as she made eggs and sausages in the kitchen.
"Why don't you sleep a little longer?" Grandma asked me.
"I have class this morning," I said, kissing her on the cheek. "You should've woken me up to make us breakfast."
"I'm not blind, just a little hard to see!" Ella insisted.
"Okay, okay, I just didn't want you to get hurt," I surrendered, pouring two glasses of milk and popping some bread into the toaster.
"You don't look like you got enough rest. You need to take care of yourself," Ella said, her face full of concern.
I forced myself to smile. "It's fine. I slept well last night, so don't worry."
"Just take care of yourself," Grandma advised, her tone gentle but firm.
I nodded, smiling, feeling a warmth spread through my heart.
Since I had to cover for Lily at night, I had shifted my ballet classes to the morning.
Once I saved enough money and passed the professional exams, I would be able to attend the Royal Academy of Dance, which I had always dreamed of.
That was what I had been working so hard for.
The fact was, I had chosen to take classes the night before because I wanted to avoid someone.
I put on my old ballet outfit, which was a little loose now, and slipped on my worn ballet shoes before heading into the dance studio.
As I began my warm-up exercises, I heard a voice filled with disdain. "Oh my God, do you guys smell something?"
I kept my head down, focusing on my exercises, pretending I didn't hear anything.
Another sharp voice chimed in. "Yeah, I smell it. Must be coming from Carly. It's gross."
The girls erupted into laughter.
Their mocking chuckles didn't sit well with me, but I'd grown all too familiar with such disdain.
The one who'd mocked me was Grace. I'd known her for a long time, but we'd never gotten along.
Grace was the typical queen bee, drawing attention wherever she went.
She had an enviable figure, long hair, piercing green eyes, and striking features, like a sexy panther.
And, of course, we were rivals.
Grace and I were both considered talented by our teachers, but she had the money and the resources that I didn't.
So, she had enough reasons to hate me.
I didn't know why, but she seemed to take great pleasure in bullying and humiliating others, and I was one of her victims.
Over the years, the mockery had become a familiar tune to my ears.
Resistance only invited more severe bullying.
I averted my gaze, choosing to ignore them.
This likely infuriated Grace.
One of them stepped forward and pushed me with force.
I lost my balance and fell to the ground with a thud.
A jolt of agony rippled across my body, my knee bearing the brunt.
I couldn't help but wince; it had been injured just yesterday, and the pain now felt like torture!
No matter how indifferent I pretended to be, their taunts twisted my heart with pain.
For a moment, I wished I could grab her hair and fight back.
But I couldn't...
I lacked the influential lineage that Grace boasted, the backing of formidable parents.
If I did that, I might even involve Ella...
I closed my eyes, forcing down the surge of sour feelings.
Their insults only ceased when the teacher entered.
I gritted my teeth and struggled to keep up with the class, even though my knees were throbbing. Finally, the painful session ended at noon.
I quickly changed out of my clothes and rushed off to my next job on a construction site.
The sun beat down mercilessly, making everything unbearably hot, like a scorching blade slicing through the earth.
I wiped the sweat from my forehead as I placed the last brick down.
Feeling light-headed from the lack of rest, I sat down and gulped down the water, trying to quench my thirst.
"Carly, someone's here to see you," the site supervisor called out.
I forced myself to stand up, ignoring the dizziness in my head as I followed him to the office.
The cool air conditioning and the shade in the office were a welcome relief.
"Carly Clark?" A deep voice asked, familiar but distant.
I looked up to see a tall man in a navy-blue suit. He was well-built, the tailored suit accentuating his broad shoulders and muscular waist, making him look incredibly attractive.
He possessed a striking attractiveness, his face etched with sharp, resolute lines that spoke of a rugged elegance. His features were carved with such precision, and those piercing blue eyes momentarily conjured the image of the man who had come to my rescue the previous evening.
Yet, there was a discernible difference.
Was it his presence?
I reflected on it. The gentleman before me radiated a dignified air, a natural authority that was impossible to overlook.
His carriage was straight, his movements refined, each gesture a testament to the poise of a seasoned gentleman.
The man standing before me was every bit as polished and sophisticated.
This kind of man would be sought after anywhere.
So why was he looking for me?
My mind raced with wild thoughts.
"Carly?" The supervisor's voice brought me back to reality.
"Oh! I'm listening!" I replied quickly.
The man turned to the supervisor. "You can leave us. I need to speak with Ms. Clark privately."
My head was spinning. Who was he? What did he want? How did he know me?
- Writer
