Chapter 7: Ex-Boyfriends Past
930 Words
Megan’s POV
The Monday morning air at St. Vivienne felt heavier than usual. Maybe it was the weight of the pearl necklace sitting in my jewelry box at home, or maybe it was the way people were staring at me like I’d just won the lottery.
I was at my locker, trying to shove my massive history binder inside, when the hair on the back of my neck stood up. That specific, prickling sensation only happened when one person was near.
"You’re really going through with it, then?"
I didn't turn around. I didn't have to. Daniel’s voice was like a song I’d listened to until it made me sick, charming on the surface, but full of static underneath.
"Going through with what, Daniel?" I asked, finally closing the locker and turning to face him.
He was leaning against the wall, his signature cocky swagger on full display. His short curly hair was perfectly styled, and his sharp jawline was set in a smirk that used to make me melt. Now, it just made me tired.
"The Carter Charade," he said, stepping closer. "Come on, Meg. I know you. You hate guys like him. You spent half our relationship complaining about how the 'elites' think they own the world. Now you’re playing house with their king?"
"People change, Daniel. Unlike you, who seems stuck in the 'cheating jerk' phase of his life."
Daniel’s POV
I felt the sting of her words, but I didn't let the smirk slip. I knew Megan better than anyone. She was resilient, sure, but she was also an overthinker. If I could plant just one seed of doubt, the whole Liam-and-Megan tower would tumble.
"Is that what this is? Revenge?" I laughed, shaking my head. "You’re trying to make me jealous by dating the one guy I can't stand. It’s a classic move, babe. But you’re playing with fire. Liam Carter doesn't do 'relationships.' He does business deals."
I reached out, my fingers brushing the sleeve of her blazer. She flinched, and I felt a surge of triumph. She wasn't over me. Not really.
"He’s using you, Megan," I whispered, dropping my voice to that low, persuasive tone that always worked.
"Look at the timing. His reputation is in the trash, his mom is breathing down his neck, and suddenly he’s 'in love' with the girl he hasn't spoken to in three years? He’s using your brilliance to polish his image. When he’s done, he’ll drop you back into the 'scholarship' pile without a second thought."
"You don't know anything about him," Megan snapped, but I saw the flicker of doubt in her chocolate eyes.
"I know us," I said, stepping even closer, pinning her between me and the lockers.
"I know that when things get hard, you come back to what's familiar. Liam is a fantasy. I’m the reality."
Megan’s POV
My heart was racing, but not for the right reasons. Daniel’s presence felt suffocating. He was trying to rewrite my memory of us, trying to make me forget the way he’d humiliated me.
"The reality is that you’re blocked on my phone for a reason," I said, my voice trembling slightly.
"Move, Daniel."
"Make me," he challenged, his dark eyes flashing with that selfish, daring streak I used to find attractive.
Suddenly, a hand; larger, stronger, and much more familiar; landed on Daniel’s shoulder and spun him around with enough force to make his sneakers screech on the linoleum.
"She told you to move, Cole."
Liam was standing there, his athletic frame casting a literal shadow over Daniel. He didn't look like the "charming prince" today. He looked like a storm cloud. His amber eyes were narrowed, and his jaw was set so tight I thought his teeth might c***k.
"Carter," Daniel spat, recovering his composure. "Just having a chat with my girlfriend. No need to get your designer socks in a twist."
"Ex-girlfriend," Liam corrected, his voice low and vibrating with a threat. He stepped between us, physically shielding me from Daniel’s gaze. "And if I see you 'chatting' this close to her again, you’re going to find out exactly how much I don't care about school policy regarding fighting."
Daniel looked at Liam, then at me, the smirk returning to his face. "Enjoy the fantasy while it lasts, Meg. I’ll be waiting for the crash."
He sauntered off, leaving a trail of tension behind him.
Liam didn't turn around immediately. He stood there for a long moment, his chest heaving. When he finally turned to face me, the anger hadn't faded.
"What did he say to you?" Liam demanded.
"It doesn't matter," I whispered, still shaken.
"It matters to me," he snapped, then paused, his eyes softening just a fraction.
"It matters for... the image. We can't have him thinking he can get to you."
The image. Right. For a second, I’d forgotten.
"He thinks you're using me," I said, looking at the floor.
Liam went quiet. He reached out as if to touch my shoulder, then pulled back at the last second. "He’s an i***t, Megan. Don't listen to him."
But as we walked to class in a silence that felt heavier than the one we’d started with, I couldn't help but wonder if Daniel was right. Was I just a tool for Liam’s redemption? Or was I starting to become something much more dangerous?
- Writer
