Little Miss Crazy

CHAPTER 9&10: Heartbeats

¶CrestVeiw High

The hallway at Crestview High was a full-blown jungle by second period—lockers slamming, sneakers squeaking, teachers yelling, and students trying (and failing) to act like it wasn’t chaos on a daily basis.

Daisy Morales stood at her locker, muttering under her breath as she fought with a stubborn zipper on her pencil case. Her red hair was tucked into a loose ponytail, hazel eyes sharp as always—even though she hadn’t slept much. Algebra had fried her brain. Again.

“DAAAAAY-ZEEEEE!”

Chloe’s voice pierced through the noise like a siren.

Daisy sighed dramatically. “What now, Chloe? Did BTS get back together?”

Chloe slid in beside her, nearly vibrating. “Girl. Liam. Freaking. Saja. Just winked at me.”

Daisy blinked. “Maybe it was dust in his eye?”

“Don’t play with me,” Chloe hissed. “It was real. He looked straight at me and said, ‘You dropped something’… even though I didn’t. He was flirting. That man’s basically proposing.”

“You're delusional,” Daisy said flatly, smirking as she handed Chloe a book. “But sure, let’s pretend he’s already buying the ring.”

Just then, the hallway shifted. A hush… followed by a wave of squeals and camera clicks.

“They’re coming,” Chloe whispered.

And like clockwork, the *Saja Boys* appeared.

*Liam* led the pack — charming, grinning, hoodie draped over one shoulder. Girls practically fainted as he passed, whispering and gasping.

*Rex* followed, a smirk on his lips, hands tucked into his pockets, walking like he owned the world—and honestly, he might as well have. Dark curls, cocky eyes, total menace. He oozed danger, and the hallway was eating it up.

Girls literally stepped aside, one murmuring,

“God, Rex could run me over and I’d thank him.”

Another giggled, “He made eye contact with me last week. I haven’t slept since.”

*Kyle* trailed behind, hoodie up, headphones on, unreadable as ever. He didn’t look at anyone.

Daisy stiffened.

She told herself not to look, not to drool, not to—

Her eyes locked on *Rex.*

The way he moved. That jawline. That *‘I don’t care if your heart breaks’* energy.

Daisy bit her lower lip.

No. Nope. Abort mission.

She could practically hear Ava’s voice in her head:

*"Don’t ever let feelings overpower your brain, Daisy."*

She tore her gaze away.

Chloe, however, was practically melting beside her. “Liam smells like heaven and heartbreak, I swear.”

“Please. You’ve never even been close enough to smell him.”

“I inhaled deeply when he walked by. That counts.”

Daisy rolled her eyes, but her heart was still thumping.

And then—just as she forced herself to calm down—

*Kyle* looked at her.

Eyes, cold and unreadable, lifted from beneath his hoodie and met hers. No smirk. No smile. Just a brief, almost accidental glance…

But it made her breath hitch.

She froze.

And then, as quickly as it came, *he looked away*, turning his head and continuing forward.

Daisy blinked.

“Did he just… look at me?” she whispered to herself.

Chloe was too far gone, fanning herself as Liam winked at someone else.

Daisy grabbed her arm. “Let’s *go* before I say something stupid.”

As they walked away, Chloe hummed dreamily, “Do you think Liam likes wild girls or quiet girls?”

Daisy muttered, “If Rex ever speaks to me, I might combust on the spot.”

But as they disappeared into their classroom, neither noticed Kyle glance back one more time, eyes narrowing for just a second—then returning to the ground.

*

Daisy slumped into her seat at the back of class, pulling out her notebook. Chloe plopped into the desk beside her, immediately stretching like she’d run a marathon.

“I swear if Mr. Jacobs gives us another pop quiz, I’m jumping out the window,” she muttered.

Daisy barely responded. Her hazel eyes were distant.

Chloe squinted. “What’s up with you? You’ve been all dazed since the hallway.”

Daisy hesitated, then whispered, “Okay, don’t laugh, but... I think Kyle looked at me.”

Chloe froze mid-stretch. “*Kyle?* Hoodie-wearing, emotionally unavailable Kyle?”

Daisy nodded quickly. “I wasn’t even trying to get his attention, but I was looking at Rex—you know, *normally*—and then suddenly, Kyle looked right at me.”

Chloe blinked. “That’s wild.”

“I *know*,” Daisy whispered. “It was like... brief. But intense. Maybe he was looking past me? Or my fly was down?”

Chloe laughed. “Nah, girl. If Kyle looks at you, that’s something. That guy ignores *everybody.* Like full ghost mode.”

Daisy leaned back. “Yeah, well. He probably thought I was a confused freshman.”

“You *are* confused. But you’re definitely not a freshman.” Chloe stuck out her tongue.

They both laughed.

Just then, Mr. Jacobs strolled in and dropped a stack of papers on his desk. “Group assignment. Same partners from last week.”

Daisy groaned. “Please not Kenny.”

Chloe smirked. “Could be worse. Could be Crystal and her clones.”

Almost on cue, the three popular girls—Crystal, Lacey, and Bella—turned in their seats, eyeing Chloe and Daisy.

“Oh look,” Crystal said loudly. “Princess Chloe and her charity case.”

Daisy’s jaw tensed, but Chloe didn’t flinch.

“Still obsessed with us, huh?” Chloe said sweetly. “You should charge rent for all the time I take up in your head.”

Lacey snickered. “We were just wondering how Daisy even gets here every day. Oh right, Chloe’s pity limo.”

Daisy rolled her eyes. “Bold of you to assume your opinion matters. Focus on not failing this assignment, Lacey.”

The girls huffed and turned away. Chloe nudged Daisy under the desk.

“You’ve been so feisty lately,” she whispered proudly. “I love it.”

Daisy smiled, trying to hide how warm her cheeks got. “I just... don’t want them thinking I’m some pushover.”

“Well, you’re not. You’re Daisy Morales. Slightly unhinged, totally lovable, and destined to be a menace.”

Daisy snorted. “Slightly unhinged?”

They were still giggling when Chloe perked up. “Oh! Game’s tomorrow, remember?”

Daisy blinked. “Ugh, right. The basketball match.”

“And rehearsal’s after school. Coach wants us there sharp. No snacks, no t****k, no excuses.”

“I live to suffer,” Daisy muttered, slamming her head against her book.

Chloe patted her back. “At least Rex will be there, all sweaty and broody.”

“Please,” Daisy scoffed. “If he even *glanced* my way, I’d evaporate.”

Chloe grinned. “Just wait. Maybe Hoodie Boy’ll be watching too.”

Daisy hesitated, twirling her pen.

What *was* that look from Kyle?

And why couldn’t she stop thinking about it?

¶ A Luxe Ventures

Ava was barely done typing when a sharp tone buzzed through her desk phone. She jumped.

“Come in.”

His deep voice rang through the intercom. Cold and commanding.

She straightened her blouse, took a calming breath, and entered.

Alex didn’t look up from his laptop. “Have you begun preparations for the Luxe Charity Gala?”

Ava blinked. “Um, not yet—”

“Of course not,” he cut her off. “I’ll be heading to ST. Purple Fashion House at 2PM for my suit fitting. You and Thompson will accompany me. Make yourself useful.”

She bit her inner cheek. *Calm down, Ava. You need this job.*

He finally looked up, eyeing her outfit.

“I hope you have something decent to wear. Not those cheap rags you’ve been parading around in.”

Her jaw clenched.

He turned back to his screen. “You may leave.”

Ava took a step, then stopped. “Should I inform Thompson?”

He didn’t even glance up. “Isn’t that what I just said?”

“Right. Got it, sir.”

She stepped out, chest tight, but eyes burning with silent fire.

Mabel gave her a worried look as she passed.

Before Ava could catch her breath, *Giselle Harper* appeared—heels clicking, eyes sparkling with poison.

“Oh, Ava… heard you’re tagging along with the boss today,” Giselle said with a fake pout. “Must be... overwhelming. Don’t trip over yourself. The last girl couldn’t handle it.”

Ava smiled sweetly. “Don’t worry. I walk just fine in heels.”

Giselle’s smirk faltered as Ava turned on her heel and walked away, head held high, even though her heart was hammering in her chest.

She marched straight into Thompson’s office, knocking once.

“Come in,” his voice called from inside, sharp but professional.

She stepped in. “Mr. Grayson asked me to let you know you’ll be joining him for a fitting at ST. Purple Fashion House. 2 PM.”

Thompson looked up from his paperwork, raising a brow. “Lovely. Can’t wait to see how many poor souls get steamrolled today.”

Ava chuckled under her breath.

“Oh and… welcome to the battlefield, Ms. Morales,” he added with a wink, already rising to prep. “You’ll want to keep your head low and your comebacks loaded.”

“Noted,” Ava said, turning for the door.

¶LATER THAT DAY

The sleek black Maybach pulled up in front of ST. Purple Fashion House, its polished body gleaming under the morning sun. The building's signature purple emblem shimmered proudly above the entrance — luxurious, exclusive, and intimidating.

Thompson was out of the car in seconds, straightening his suit as he circled to the backseat. With practiced grace, he opened the door.

Ava stood on the sidewalk, clutching her tablet and a small notepad, already feeling the weight of the fashion house’s elite aura. She turned just in time to watch Alex Grayson emerge from the car.

He didn’t even glance her way.

Dressed sharply in a tailored black suit with the top two buttons of his shirt undone — revealing just the right hint of chest — Alex exuded silent power. His jawline sharp, expression unreadable, his presence alone made people straighten unconsciously.

Ava swallowed and held her ground.

Thompson handed the car keys to one of the suited valets without a word. The young man bowed and nodded before slipping into the vehicle.

“Keep the engine clean,” Thompson muttered as an afterthought, adjusting his collar.

As they began walking up the steps, Thompson leaned slightly toward Ava, voice low.

Ready for war in silk and stilettos?” he teased, smirking slightly.

Ava offered a tight smile. “I’d rather face war. At least the enemy wears uniforms.”

Thompson chuckled, clearly amused, while Alex walked ahead without sparing either of them a backward glance.

The heavy glass doors slid open as they stepped inside the elegant lobby of ST. Purple Fashion House. The atmosphere smelled of fresh orchids, leather, and luxury. Well-dressed staff in soft pastels moved about efficiently, eyes discreetly shifting toward Alex.

He didn’t acknowledge anyone.

Ava walked closely behind, heels clicking softly, her grey pencil skirt hugging her legs just right, the crisp white blouse tucked perfectly. Her red hair was tied up into a clean spiked ponytail — neat, confident, and professional.

‘This outfit cost three days’ worth of lunch,’ she thought, brushing imaginary lint from her sleeve.

She had used part of her savings to upgrade her wardrobe — subtle but polished. No way she’d walk in here looking like she didn’t belong.

A well-groomed lady in black heels and a lilac designer set approached with a tablet in hand.

“Mr. Grayson, we’ve been expecting you,” she said with a slight bow. “Design Director Eun is ready for your fitting.”

Alex nodded without a word, moving past her.

The woman’s gaze dropped to Ava, sizing her up quickly before offering a tight smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

‘Yup. Definitely one of those types,’ Ava noted dryly, plastering a polite smile in return.

As they followed behind Alex, Thompson whispered again.

“Let me know if you need to fake a phone call and escape. I’ve done it twice.”

Ava stifled a laugh. “Tempting. Very tempting.”

And with that, they entered the large Boutique.

*

Ava sat quietly on the cream leather couch near the display window, her eyes absentmindedly watching people stroll past on the street. The elegance of the room surrounded her — mannequins in glass cases, racks of exclusive custom gowns, and the scent of expensive perfume lingering in the air.

Alex had already finished his fitting — sleek, all-black with the designers nodding in satisfaction. He stood a few feet away, arms crossed, quietly observing the flurry of assistants fluttering about.

Then he turned to one of the staff.

“Pick something for her,” he said plainly.

The assistant blinked. “Sir?”

“For her.” He nodded towards Ava without even glancing at her.

Ava turned, confused. “Sir?”

He looked at her now, slow and cold. “You didn’t expect me to let you tag along wearing rags, did you?”

Her jaw clenched. She bit her lower lip to suppress the response clawing its way up her throat. Instead, she looked away, mumbling, “Of course not.”

Her eyes were burning holes into the polished marble floor. But inside, her heart thumped erratically.

The assistant stepped forward with a gentle smile. “Please come with me.”

Ava stood and followed without a word, her pride dragging behind her like a crushed heel.

Alex sank into a nearby armchair, crossing his legs and picking up an iPad as if nothing had just happened. Thompson sat across from him, tilting his head toward his boss with a smirk.

“You always know how to charm a lady,” he muttered sarcastically.

Alex didn’t respond.

Inside the dressing section, they didn’t ask Ava what she liked. They measured, selected, and matched, spinning around her like elegant machines. After a while, she reappeared — not dressed, but with the gown carefully folded in a satin bag, held close to her chest.

She approached Alex and Thompson, expression neutral.

“Thank you, sir,” she said quietly.

Alex didn’t look up. “Don’t talk. Just keep up.”

Thompson rose and settled the payment while Alex walked ahead, not even waiting for the others to catch up.

Once they stepped outside, a valet rolled their car to the curb. Thompson went to open the back door for Alex. Ava remained still, unsure if she should get in.

As Alex slid into the car, he paused briefly, then looked up at her from behind the glass.

“You can take the rest of the day off,” he said simply. “Go home and get yourself ready. I don’t want you looking like a mess tomorrow.”

Ava blinked, unsure if it was an insult or some twisted form of generosity.

“Thank you, sir,” she muttered.

Alex said nothing. He returned his gaze to his iPad, fingers already typing away.

Thompson gave her a small wave from the front seat. “Rest well, Ms. Morales.”

Ava smiled “Thanks.”

And Alex gave a weird look making her frown before he looked away and she flapped her long lashes.

She stepped back as the car rolled away, the tinted glass sealing off the coldest man she’d ever met… and the most complicated one too.

She let out a breath.

‘Tomorrow’s going to be hell in heels.’

**

Ava stepped down from the cab, her heels dangling from her hand, her shoulders slumped with exhaustion. Her blazer was half-off, and the evening breeze hit her porcelain skin like a soft sigh of relief. She stared at the familiar run-down apartment with a tired smile.

Before she could knock, the wooden door creaked open, revealing a frowning Daisy in oversized pajamas and fluffy socks.

“You could’ve at least texted,” Daisy said, her frown melting instantly as she saw Ava’s state. “God, you look like you wrestled a hurricane.”

Ava chuckled weakly. “Close enough.”

Daisy grabbed the shopping bag and Ava’s purse. “Come in, come in. Geez.”

Ava dropped onto the old couch with a loud sigh, letting her head fall back dramatically. “I’m never wearing heels again. Who even invented them? A sadist?”

Daisy set her stuff down and sat beside her. “Where’s Mum?”

“She had her checkup today, remember?” Daisy said softly. “She’s still at the hospital. Said not to wait up. Her leg’s been acting up again.”

Ava frowned. “Right…”

There was a brief silence before Daisy's eyes widened, curiosity lighting up her face. “Okay, now spill. What’s in this bag?”

Ava groaned, sitting up. “Let’s just say your sister got bossed around, insulted, bought a dress she didn’t ask for, and still managed not to stab anyone.”

Daisy’s mouth dropped open. “Wait—he bought you a dress? Like, actually picked it out?”

Ava narrowed her eyes. “Don’t. Read. Into. It.”

“I mean… some of us are still waiting for our toxic crushes to even notice us,” Daisy mumbled.

Ava blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh no, don’t you dare. Spill, Daisy Mora.”

Daisy giggled, pulling her knees up to her chest. “Fine. I may or may not have a massive crush on the baddest boy in school. Rex. But he doesn’t even look at me. I’m like a ghost to him.”

Ava sighed dramatically. “You really know how to pick them, huh?”

Daisy rolled her eyes. “Says the woman being dressed by her boss like a mannequin.”

“I didn’t ask for it!”

“Still got the dress though.”

“DAISY.”

They both burst out laughing. And for the first time that day, Ava let herself relax.

As their laughter died down Ava let out a shaky breath and Diasy's phone pinged of a message.

But she payed no attention to it as she grabbed one of the shopping bags giggling.

Ava smiled and stood up tiredly, dragging her feet to her room with Diasy trailing behind.