CHAPTER TWO
1369 Words
ARIA
I barely slept that night. The electricity had been cut off, so I couldn’t charge my phone. Mama hadn’t been able to pay the bills—her hours were cut again, and the rent was still pending. Every time I closed my eyes, my mind replayed that stupid photo I shouldn’t have sent. The one Adrian had seen. My stomach twisted in knots, and when my alarm blared at six, I wanted to bury my face under the blanket and pretend the day didn’t exist.
“Aria! Wake up! I don’t pay the fees so your lazy ass can sleep all day!” Mama’s voice boomed from the hallway. A second later, she flung open my door, her eyes sharp with a mix of frustration and exhaustion.
“I’m up, Mama,” I croaked, dragging myself out of bed. My legs felt like lead. My mind was foggy.
I slipped into a quick bath, hoping the warm water would calm the storm inside me—but it didn’t. Each drop that slid over my skin just made me more aware of the panic sitting in my chest. My hands gripped the edge of the tub until my knuckles turned white.
Adrian. The photo.
What if he told someone? What if he showed it?
I shivered even under the heat, my heart pounding in my throat.
Afterward, I dressed quickly, still trembling, my thoughts racing. I slung my bag over my shoulder, barely noticing the chill in the apartment.
“I made breakfast. Don’t you want some?” Mama called from the kitchen, holding out a plate of scrambled eggs and toast.
“No, Mama. I’m late,” I said, my voice small and shaky.
She frowned, disappointment flickering across her tired face. “Fine. At least take this.” She shoved a wrapped sandwich into my hands.
“Thanks,” I whispered, already halfway out the door, trying to ignore the way her sigh followed me down the hall.
Outside, the air was cool, sharp against my skin. Jenny spotted me before I reached the gate.
“You look like you died!” she blurted, half-joking but worried. “Did you even sleep last night?”
I forced a weak smile. “I’m fine… just tired.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Hmm. Sure. You look like a ghost.”
I laughed softly, but it came out wrong—forced, flat.
Then she leaned closer, her voice lowering. “Wait—did he call you?”
“Who?” I asked, pretending not to understand, though my stomach already knew.
“Aaron,” she whispered quickly. “Come on, don’t play dumb. Did he call you? Did you two make up? Tell me all about it!”
My chest tightened. The sound of his name was like a slap. I stopped walking, pretending to fix my bag. “Jenny, not now.”
She blinked. “What? I’m just asking—”
“I said not now,” I repeated, sharper than I meant to.
Her smile faded. “Okay… sorry. I just thought maybe—”
“Just drop it,” I said quietly.
We walked the rest of the way in silence. The wind tugged at my hair, the sound of footsteps filling the space between us. I could feel her glance at me now and then, but I kept my eyes on the road, pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.
At school, the noise hit me like a wave—chatter, laughter, slamming lockers. I felt smaller with every step. When I finally sat down, I plugged my phone into the class charger. My hands trembled as the screen lit up.
No new messages.
But the one I sent last night—the photo—had two ticks beside it.
My stomach dropped. He’d seen it.
I froze, staring at the screen, my heart hammering so loud it drowned out everything else. I quickly deleted it, even though I knew it didn’t matter. He’d already seen it. The image was burned into his mind, maybe even saved on his phone.
Panic pressed against my chest, sharp and heavy. What was he thinking? What would he do?
All through class, I could barely focus. My pen scratched uselessly over the page. Every few seconds, my eyes flicked toward Adrian. He sat two rows ahead, spinning a pen between his fingers, calm and unreadable—like nothing had happened.
And beside him, Cassie.
She was practically glued to him—her hand brushing his arm, her laugh echoing through the room, her perfume thick enough to choke me. Every time she leaned in, my chest tightened. Every time he smiled at her, something inside me twisted.
I tried not to look, but I couldn’t help it. Every movement between them felt like a reminder—he saw you. He knows.
By the first break, my nerves were frayed.
“I’ll be back,” I whispered to Jenny, grabbing my bag.
“Where are you going?” she asked, but I was already halfway out.
“Bathroom,” I muttered, not looking back.
Inside, the air was cold and still. I leaned against the sink, gripping the edge so hard my fingers ached. My reflection stared back—pale face, tired eyes.
“Maybe he deleted it,” I whispered to myself. “Maybe he doesn’t care. Maybe…”
But even as I said it, I knew I was lying.
Suddenly, the door creaked open.
I didn’t think much of it—maybe someone just came in to have a piss or fix their makeup. But then the sound of footsteps echoed softly across the tiles, slow and steady.
The shoes caught my attention. They were male. And this was the female bathroom.
My breath hitched. Something didn’t feel right.
“This is the ladies’ bathroom,” I snapped, trying to sound braver than I felt.
A low chuckle. “Relax.”
My heart dropped. I knew that voice.
I turned, and there he was—Adrian—leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes glinting.
“What… what are you doing here?” I stammered.
He smiled lazily. “I saw that picture yesterday.” His voice was calm, teasing, but it made my skin crawl.
“Who would’ve thought the quiet little library girl had so much… heat under that uniform?”
My face burned. I wanted to disappear. “Delete it,” I whispered.
“Not so fast.” His smirk deepened. The phone in his hand gleamed like a weapon.
“You’re insane,” I hissed. “Delete the photo!”
He tilted his head, amused. “Maybe I will. But first, I want something.”
“What do you want?” I asked, though my throat was tight, voice barely there.
“You have to do more than this to find out,” he said, licking his tongue across his lips in that slow, teasing way that made my stomach twist.
My heart skipped a beat—part disgust, part shock. “Really, Adrian, I don’t have time for this,” I muttered, turning away before he could see how uneasy I felt.
He chuckled softly, his voice dripping with arrogance. “You want everyone to know, right? Your body is cool, by the way.”
I froze, my pulse racing. “You psycho,” I hissed, the word trembling out of me before I could stop it.
“I agree,” he said with a smirk, his eyes glinting with something dangerous. “But you sent it to me. Maybe you’re trying to get me to date you.”
Anger burned hot in my chest. “I don’t even like you!”
He stepped closer, invading my space, his breath brushing against my skin. “Well then,” he whispered, his tone suddenly dark and low, “I need you.”
My throat tightened. I wanted to move, to say something, but the words caught somewhere between fear and rage.
Then, out of nowhere, the door swung open.
Cassie stood there, eyes wide. “What is going on here?” she demanded, her voice sharp enough to cut through the heavy silence.
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