Chained Hearts

Chapter One

I stared outside the window, paying no heed to the chatter around me. Our adviser was already standing in front of the class, talking about something I couldn’t care less about. Everything just bored me to death lately. It felt like I was only doing things because I had to, not because I wanted to.

The same routine, every single day. Damn frustrating.

“Ms. Salcedo? Patricia!” our adviser’s voice snapped me back, loud enough to make everyone turn.

I raised an eyebrow, silently telling her to continue. Honestly, I was too busy pitying myself for having such a painfully boring life. Well—other than the fact that I scared off people I didn’t like just for fun.

She coughed, trying to compose herself. “Didn’t you hear what I just said?” she asked, giving me that you’re-so-hopeless look. “We’re still in class, you know.”

Well, I couldn’t really blame her. I’d done enough to earn an expulsion more than once. But—yes, there’s a freaking but—I only did those things because I was right. And maybe, just a teeny weensy bit, for fun.

“Congratulations,” she said, smiling—actually smiling—at me. Not a smirk. Not a pity grin. A real smile. The kind that gave me goosebumps because, let’s be honest, no one in this class had ever seen that before. “I never thought you had it in you. With all the trouble you’ve caused—”

“You’re thanking me for what?” I interrupted. “Has the school finally decided to expel me?”

I would’ve expelled myself if I could, honestly. But I hadn’t pulled a prank in a week—well, except for Lance. But he’s a masochist… and my best friend. So, he doesn’t really count.

“As much as every teacher would love that, your antics only ever get you as far as suspension,” she said with a sigh. Then she beamed again. “Anyway—you’re chosen!”

I blinked. “That doesn’t really make sense to me. Chosen for what exactly?”

I looked to Trixie and Lance for backup, but both avoided my gaze. Great. Last time they ignored me, I almost poured a bucket of paint on the principal.

“You’re chosen as CIC’s representative for the school’s inter-exchange—”

“What?!” I slammed my hands on the desk and shot up before she could finish. “You’re joking, right?”

But she wasn’t. And as dread settled in, I finally understood why the twins were avoiding me. Damn it.

Two Months Later

It’s been two months since that “incident”, and I’m practically used to SPU now. At first, I thought transferring for this exchange program would be fun—a new school, new people, new energy. But the thrill wore off after a week. Everything’s back to boring again.

The only difference? New friends, new enemies, and a new set of stupid rules.

“Pat, wear this—and hurry up,” Lace ordered, handing me a very cute, very not my type of dress. “I’m sure it’ll look good on you.”

“Nope. I’m good with my jeans and T-shirt,” I said casually, ignoring her piercing glare. “And don’t order me around, I’m older than you by three years, remember?”

“I’ll cry,” she threatened, lips curving into a smirk.

I almost cursed, but before I could even think of running away, she started sobbing. And I hate seeing Lace cry. She was crying the first time we met, actually—and somehow, this little drama queen grew on me.

Lace Trinidad was the first friend I made at SPU. Sweet, soft-spoken, and the total opposite of me. Because I happened to be at the wrong place at the right time, we ended up friends—and she’s been following me around ever since.

Everyone liked Lace, but not for the right reasons. Most smiles thrown her way were fake—courtesy of her brother, Jherrick Trinidad, SPU’s Ice Prince. Every girl wanted him; I was one of the few who didn’t. Maybe that’s why Lace clung to me. Like a little puppy with her mom. And because she’d melted a part of my “bad girl” heart, I let her.

“Why do I have to wear this?” I grumbled, holding the dress like it was a contagious disease.

Yes, I’d lost this round. If Lance and Trixie saw me like this, they’d laugh themselves unconscious. But honestly? Lace was different. She could be weak and strong at the same time–and way too dramatic for her own good.

“It’ll look good on you, I swear!” she said, curling her hair. “Besides, this is the one day we get to wear anything we like—well, with some minor exceptions.”

And here I was, hoping to blend in. I wanted something casual, something that wouldn’t scream for attention. Instead, I got this.

“This is why everyone loves Foundation Day,” she explained cheerfully. “It’s the perfect time to show off their feminine side before the night event—the confession night!”

“I don’t plan on confessing to anyone,” I muttered, slipping into the dress anyway. “It’s not like I’m eyeing anyone here.”

But as I said it, a face flashed in my mind. I quickly shoved it away and thought of other things. Not again.

SPU really took their events seriously. If this were CIC, half the students would’ve skipped, and the rest would’ve been forced by teachers.

“I told you so!” Lace clapped, looking at me proudly. “It suits you! We’ll just curl your hair a bit and do light makeup. Powder and a touch of lipstick—you’ll look perfect.”

I didn’t argue. Truth be told, it did look good on me. Who would’ve thought a white dress could fit my blackened heart?

“Damn it, Lace!” I cursed later, regretting that I hadn’t fought harder. “If I can’t enjoy today because of this dress, I swear I’ll hire someone to tie you up.”

She just laughed, snapping photos of me. “You’re just being awkward because everyone’s staring.”

I sighed. Maybe she was right. I’m just too lenient with my friends—except Lance. I snickered, remembering the last prank I pulled on him.

“You’re under arrest,” someone suddenly declared. And before I knew it, handcuffs clicked around my wrist.

“W-Wait—what?,” I stared at the masked guy holding me captive. Lace only smiled sweetly and waved.

“Lace!” I called out, betrayal in my voice.

And she left me. My wonderful friend left me to suffer.

“How much would it take for me not to go to the jail booth?” I tried bargaining. “I mean, I didn’t even do anything! Can’t you cut me some slack? I’m a new student. And an exchange one, if I may add.”

He just smiled behind his mark—clearly enjoying himself.

“I’m pretty sure no one in the jail booth wears a mask,” I continued. “And I didn’t break any rules, so—”

“Oh, just shut up, Patricia,” he said, laughing. “We’re here.”

I looked around. We weren’t near the booth at all. “Are you trying to fool me?”

“Enjoy, guys!” he shouted, locking something with a click.

“What the heck, Eros?!” the person beside me yelled.

Eros? Damn it! That stupid cupid caught me.

Eros Christopher Santiago—SPU’s infamous matchmaker. Everyone believed in his “pairing powers” because, apparently, every couple he matched ended up together. He’s also Lace’s cousin, which explains her betrayal.

“I guess we’re stuck together until he’s satisfied,” the person beside me muttered.

Then I turned to him. He smiled—a warm, gentle smile that made my heart stumble in its rhythm.

Damn it. Not him.