I woke up as my alpha bully's girlfriend

Chapter 3

Emily

I stepped into school in a sleek black SUV that screamed money and authority, the kind of car that didn’t stop on the road like my brother's old car.

And while I wasn’t exactly thrilled about living Mary’s life, I couldn’t deny it. The luxury was really good.

But that wasn’t the point of agreeing to get into her car, don't get me wrong.

I had to find her before classes started. Today mattered too much for Mary to be parading in my body. I had chemistry. Everyone knew I didn’t joke with chemistry. And everyone also knew Mary Laurent would probably set the lab on fire if you asked her to identify sodium.

She didn’t even know the first twenty elements!

How was she going to handle the pressure of being me? Now, keeping an attitude and strutting around school was easier than mixing compounds and balancing chemical equations.

The moment the driver stopped, I stepped out of the car—and straight out of character.

You can’t blame me. I thought I was going to be so good at playing Mary Saint Laurent.

But apparently, pretending to be Mary Laurent should come with a manual and a warning label. She carried herself like she owned oxygen, and I didn’t have the energy to fake that before eight in the morning.

And honestly, I did not want to run into her friends.

Not while I was stuck in Mary's body and not until I understood what the hell was going on. So I did the only reasonable thing. I turned around and got back into the car.

I sat there, chest tight, watching the school bus pull in.

Grace stepped out.

For a second, I forgot everything—the car, the body, and the madness I woke up to. And I almost ran out to hug her.

Then reality snapped back, strapping me back to the seat. The bus emptied, and I watched keenly, but my body didn’t step out.

My heart started racing.

Was Mary trying to skip school…while in my body?

Then I saw my brother’s car pulling into the school compound with the kind of speed that told me the driver was mad, and definitely not Adrian, my brother.

The door flew open and she stepped out like she was storming a battlefield…straight toward me.

My eyes dropped to my body—what she had done to it. It looked completely different. I didn't dress that way—was that a crop top over my body?

Okay.

Let me be honest for a sec.

My body looked good. No. It looked amazing with the way she paired the crop top and the jeans. I've been hiding that top for a year since my aunt got it because I had no idea how a crop top worked.

But right now, I looked like I had been hiding a whole other person under those clothes all this time.

Who knew I could actually look like this?

“Leave us alone!” she snapped at the driver when she was a few inches away, who still looked mildly shocked from how politely I had spoken earlier.

The moment we were alone, she turned to me, eyes blazing.

“Undo this, Emily. I’m not joking.”

I stared at her. Then I laughed.

I could tell it got to her. Hearing her own laugh thrown back at her, sharp and biting. That was how I felt each time she laughed when her annoying boyfriend bullied me and when her stupid friends made jokes about me.

“I have an important chemistry practical today,” I said. “And you think I’d do this? Trade lives with you? I don’t want your life, Mary.”

She rolled her eyes. “I see right through you. You’ve always wanted this. You've always wanted to be the hot girl in school who is dating the hottest guy in this entire town.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“You have. You wanted to join the cheer team and couldn’t even raise your toes properly, so you took the easy way out. You became me.”

I choked on a laugh. “Become you?”

If I had that kind of power, I would be walking around in the body of a genius, not a self-proclaimed queen with a dull fan club.

I kept that part to myself.

“You have to fix this,” she said, her voice tightening with seriousness. “I have a photoshoot with Ethan today. You hate him. How are you going to handle that?”

“Exactly,” I shot back. “That’s something you should have thought about before accusing me. I hate being you, Mary. And I hate that being you means being around Ethan... I want this over more than you do.”

“Then what are we going to do?”

I glanced at the school building. We didn’t have time for anything.

“Lunch,” I said. “We meet at lunch. My presentation is after that, so whatever this is, you just have to survive being me until then.”

Which meant she had to go from social butterfly to socially invisible.

And I had to do the opposite.

This was going to be a disaster.

“Can you do that?” I asked.

She folded her arms. “I’ll set the rules.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Stay away from Ethan. And for God’s sake, don’t ruin my reputation. You are not talking to Grace.”

“You’re not going anywhere near your… bees either.”

She frowned. “Bees?”

“‘Flies’ is more accurate. And you’re not bullying anyone while in my body even though I know you have a thing for it.”

She ignored that. “No burgers. I can’t look puffy for tonight’s shoot. I only drink lime water in the morning. No soda. And don’t try to be funny. Stay away from Ethan.”

That one might be a problem. He had a habit of finding me…and making fun of me. And even now in her body, how was I going to stay away from my ‘boyfriend’?

“You’re not talking back to teachers,” I added.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“I’ll see you at recess.”

She looked me over, clearly unimpressed, then reached into her purse.

“I knew you’d mess this up. You can’t walk into school looking like a nightmare.”

I didn’t see the issue with how I had fixed my face.

Before I could protest, she grabbed my face—technically her face—and started working on it.

“What are you—”

“Stop talking. Purse your lips.”

She applied makeup with terrifying speed. Liner, gloss, and things I didn’t even know the names of.

“Where did you get all this?” I asked, knowing they were surely not from my room.

“Don’t ask questions,” she answered, irritated.

She stepped back, inspecting her work. “Loosen your hair, Emily. I don’t wear it like that. There's a reason I invest time using a straightener every morning.”

I glanced at the way she tied my curls to the back like they irritated her. “And I don’t wear mine like this either.”

“I’m not letting curls block my vision. I could trip and fall. It's enough that I have to wear myopic lenses.”

“It's cylinder…for astigmatism. But you wouldn't know.”I sighed and loosened my hair.

Now I had until recess to figure out how to survive in Mary Laurent’s life.

And somehow find a way out of her skin…literally.

***

I grabbed my designer bag—okay, Mary's designer bag—and stepped into the hallway, hoping I could slip into class unnoticed. All I needed was one quiet entrance, one invisible walk, and one peaceful seat at the back.

Apparently, that was too much to ask.

Because being Mary Saint Laurent came with expectations. There was always a fake glorifying presence and attention. And a whole performance I hadn’t rehearsed for.

Heads turned the moment I stepped in.

My palms started sweating immediately and my heart raced so hard that I felt it would file an assault charge against me.

What was I supposed to do? Smile and wave like a celebrity? Stop and chat? Or pretend I didn’t see them?

I had never paid attention to how Mary moved through the halls. She just… did it. Like breathing.

Now I had to recreate it from scratch. My legs moved anyway, carrying me forward on pure instinct until I reached her locker finally.

I opened it and a pack of lime water stared back.

Ugh.

I rolled my eyes.

I was craving something real. Something solid and yummy at the same time, not liquid. And a hamburger sounded perfect.

But rules were rules.

I grabbed a bottle, twisted it open, and took a sip. My stomach immediately protested. I swallowed anyway, then leaned into the locker, keeping my head down like it could shield me from the entire school.

If I stayed like this long enough, maybe no one would notice me.

One minute passed.

Good.

I checked the time in my locker. Five more minutes until first lecture.

I could survive five minutes. I was almost convinced I might actually make it.

Then a hand slid around my waist.

I jerked up so fast I hit my head on the top of the locker. Pain shot through my skull, but I barely had time to feel it. Because then I heard his voice, low and calm, for the first time ever.

“Babe, are you alright?”

I effing wasn’t.

Ethan Sparrow was touching my waist.

The same hand that had shoved me and dumped food on my curls …was now resting on my waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.