Never Your Girl

Chapter 3: Shadows of Calm

Elara’s POV

The air at Westbridge High felt unnaturally still, a deceptive calm that prickled my skin after the cafeteria chaos. I wanted nothing more than to keep my head down, to erase the memory of standing up to Brielle and her venomous crew. Drama was the last thing I needed, and yet it had crashed into me like a tidal wave.

For three days, I’d dodged the cafeteria, avoided crowds, and steered clear of Brielle—and her g**g, their plotting eyes a constant threat.

Today, I perched near the soccer court, a quiet corner where the buzz of the elite faded into the distance. The boys kicked a ball across the field, their shouts a dull hum, and I buried myself in my book, nibbling a sandwich I’d packed myself.

The sun glinted off the grass, and my eyes drifted—against my will—to him.

Cassian Vale.

He moved with a grace that was almost unfair, his dark hair a wild mess that fell over his brow, catching the light like spilled ink. His tan skin gleamed with a sheen of sweat, stretched taut over wide shoulders that filled out his uniform, sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms corded with muscle. Those steel-gray eyes, sharp and unreadable, flicked across the field as he dodged and weaved, a natural leader even in play. Westbridge’s golden boy, adored and untouchable, his charm a weapon he wielded without effort.

But I wasn’t here for that. I flipped a page, forcing my focus back to the words, determined to ignore the flutter in my chest.

A soccer ball arced through the air, landing with a thud inches from my feet, spraying dirt across my sneakers. I jolted, clutching my book, and looked up to see Cassian jogging toward me, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement.

Before he could reach it, Jett, one of his crew, sauntered over, a cocky grin splitting his face.

“Hey, cutie,” he said, leaning down to grab the ball, his eyes raking over me. “Didn’t know we had an audience. You here to watch me shine?” His tone was all flirt, thick with arrogance, and I rolled my eyes.

“Not interested,” I muttered, turning back to my book.

He chuckled, tossing the ball up and catching it, lingering a moment too long before rejoining the game.

The ball came again, this time rolling right into my lap, smearing mustard from my sandwich across the page. “Careful!” I shouted, my voice sharper than intended.

The game paused, and Cassian’s gaze snapped to me. Recognition flickered in those gray eyes—he saw me, the same girl from the cafeteria, the one he’d watched with that unreadable stare. My stomach twisted, and I shoved the ball aside, stuffing my things into my bag. I just wanted to leave, to escape the sudden weight of his attention.

As I stood, a syrupy voice stopped me cold. “Oh, El, careful there, boys!” Brielle glided over, her g**g trailing like shadows—Chloe and Zara all smiles, an unsettling contrast to their usual venom. “We wouldn’t want you getting hurt,” she added, her tone dripping with fake sweetness, her eyes gleaming with something sinister. The boys muttered apologies, and I nodded stiffly, unnerved by their sudden kindness.

I turned to go, but Brielle’s voice followed, casual yet cutting. “By the way, El, have you seen Mina? Your little friend? Haven’t spotted her around.” Chloe and Zara exchanged confused glances, echoing, “Yeah, where is she?”

The way she said it—too smooth, too pointed—sent a chill down my spine. I didn’t want to care, didn’t want to get tangled in this, but worry gnawed at me. Shrugging it off, I hurried toward class, determined to ignore the unease.

Fifth period dragged, the classroom buzzing with whispers, but Mina’s seat beside me stayed empty. My chest tightened. After the bell, as I gathered my things, Zara’s voice drifted from the hall, sharp and mocking. “Guess she’s back in the dustbin where she belongs.” My blood ran cold. I dropped my bag and bolted, my heart pounding as I followed the sound.

Behind the gym, near the overflowing trash bins, I found her.

Mina, crumpled against the metal, her uniform smeared with grime, her face streaked with tears. The stench hit me, and rage boiled over. This was too much—too cruel, too personal. I knelt beside her, helping her up, my hands shaking with fury.

Back in the courtyard, Brielle and her g**g lounged, laughing as if nothing had happened. Without thinking, I grabbed a handful of wet, rotting garbage from the bin and hurled it at them. The mess splattered across Brielle’s pristine jacket, Chloe’s hair, Zara’s face—sodden and filthy. A ripple of gasps turned to stifled laughter from the gathering crowd, phones out again, capturing the chaos.

Brielle’s face contorted, her composure shattering. “You little—” She lunged, grabbing my hair and yanking me back as I turned to leave. I stumbled, the ground rushing up, but strong hands caught me.

Cassian.

His grip on my waist was firm, steadying me, his body close enough that I felt the heat of him. His eyes locked on mine, and for a moment, I saw it—the fire in my gaze reflected back, a spark of something new. His fingers lingering on my waist as if testing the weight of the moment.

Brielle’s snarl broke the spell. “Get off her, Cass!” she snapped, her voice a whip, her eyes blazing with fury. The crowd hushed, tension crackling, and I pulled away from him, my heart racing, my mind a storm.

I didn’t want this—any of it—but it was clear: the calm was gone, and the war had just begun.