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MADISON

“Promise?”

“Uhm, yeah,” he replied, his boxers hanging low on his waist, revealing way too much of his V-line.

“Perfect! I can’t wait. I’ll start looking for an Italian restaurant,” the optimistic girl exclaimed, and suddenly I felt sorry for her. She had no idea who my stepbrother was.

With a brief air kiss, Caden shut the front door—technically in her face—and stormed back into the apartment without even sparing a glance in my direction. He climbed each step as if he had conquered life.

“Finally, I have a sister-in-law,” I mocked the egotistical guy.

He paused and turned to me with questioning eyes. “Does she look like my type?”

“Well, she sounded like it,” I shrugged, intending to annoy him.

And it worked, because he looked irritated. “No, she just has the same hole I wanted, that’s all,” he bit out, each word sharp.

Okay, now I really want to hit him. You’re a dick, I reminded him of what he really is.

“You expect too much from me, Mad. What do you suggest I do? Invite her to stay and then get married in the morning?” He placed his hands on his hips, looking frustrated, like a mother.

Caden is someone who never shares a bed with a girl after sex, and it’s the worst thing a man can do to someone. But this asshole claims to be disgusted after sex. Who says that?

“I thought college would help your maturity, but no, you’re still such a little kid,” I threw at him.

“Not gonna lie, I’m offended.” He dramatically patted the left side of his chest. “But in case you’ve forgotten, it’s called a king for a reason. Little is nowhere close to a throne. So let me enlighten you,” the asshole began, pulling up his boxers while I clenched my lids shut impulsively.

He really is a dick.

“Can you get your shit together and listen properly?” I said, my voice almost loud with terror.

“How did my bedroom door open?”

Of course he doesn’t take orders from me either.

I opened my eyes to find him with his boxers back on. Lacking patience, I answered, “Jake unlocked it,” I huffed, and continued, “I was saying—”

“And who’s Jake?” he asked, a sudden frown etching across his face.

No, of course he won’t listen to me. Whatever is on his mind is more important than my proposal.

I closed my eyes, frustrated. I took those useless deep breaths and forced myself to wear a tight smile. “He’s someone.” I didn’t have time for an explanation.

“So we just moved here two days ago, and you’re freely inviting guys into the house on your own?” Caden angrily sputtered.

What the fuck?

“Excuse you?” My jaw dropped, and I didn’t care about picking it up. Caden’s audacity was unbelievable.

“No, excuse you. This is the shit I’m not going to tolerate. Take this as your first and last warning. I swear to God, if you dare invite any asshole to my house, I will make sure I cripple him,” he venomously warned, his once light eyes turning almost black.

But all I did was laugh. I laughed so hard that I fell back onto the reclining chair. Caden was frowning while I went insane.

“Look, believe it or not, I have equal rights as you in this house. That means I can invite anyone, just like you bring a different whore every day to my house. So take this as a warning: stay away from my life,” I told him and headed down to the living room.

I thought we could come to some compromise, but no, Caden isn’t reasonable enough.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he smirked and headed to his bedroom.

***

It’s early morning when I come out of my bedroom to take a shower before Caden wakes up. Unfortunately, I’m late, because I find him sitting at the kitchen counter with his face in his hands.

And my heart stops, because I know this isn’t going to be a good morning. I debate whether to shower or not.

“You can use the bathroom. I can wait,” Caden says when he notices my presence. His voice is calm, and there’s no smirk or attitude in his tone or expression.

Okay, this is scary.

“Why?” I don’t believe him. He’s clearly up to something. Caden isn’t that kind. Never on earth would he offer me the bathroom, especially in the morning when he usually makes a whole drama out of it. There has to be a catch. I’m not going to be fooled by his pretense. What are you up to? I glare at him suspiciously.

He looks confused as he studies me for a while. “Can’t I offer you the bathroom kindly?” He still has that scary polite expression on his face.

I don’t buy it. I stubbornly stand my ground, giving him wary, hooded eyes.

“I’m going for a run. Maybe that will help you feel comfortable,” he suggests.

Wow. This is new. I watch Caden put on his trainers and jacket before he disappears through the door. And just like that, it’s as if he’d never been there.

Caden and making me feel comfortable aren’t things that go together. But right now, I take the opportunity, even though I’m totally confused. Never trust a smiling cat. I rush to the shower, my mind filled with a mess of thoughts as I scrub my skin and rinse the conditioner from my hair.

By the time I finish in the bathroom, Caden still hasn’t returned. I hurriedly start getting dressed, ignoring my mom’s call.

She has no idea that this kind of opportunity only happens once in a lifetime. I’m going to enjoy it.

I put on a sleeveless dress and a denim jacket over it. As I finish applying my makeup, I hear the door click. Caden must have returned, but yes—I’m all set.

With my bag hooked on my shoulder, I find him sitting in the same spot he was in earlier that morning. And still, he has that eerie polite expression.

What has changed?

“You okay?” I ask, filled with doubt and lacking courage.

“Of course, Maddie,” he smiles, a genuine smile without any scorn. And to my surprise, he calls me Maddie.

Okay, he’s up to something. This isn’t natural.

“So I was thinking, maybe it’s time to come to some compromise. If we’re going to live together, we have to learn to respect each other’s feelings and rules.”

No way Caden is saying this.

“What about discussing everything after school? I’ll be right there waiting for you,” he says, pointing to the couch with a sincere smile on his early-morning face.

“Okay? Who are you, and what have you done with Caden?” My eyes still hold suspicion, but I somehow feel comfortable knowing we’re both learning to live with each other.

If Caden is willing to make peace, why wouldn’t I be? It’s what I’ve always wanted.

“I promised you things would be different from now on,” he assures me, his eyelashes fluttering slowly, giving him an innocent look.

Whatever he’s up to, I will find out.

“I’ll get ready,” Caden announces as he approaches me. I don’t process anything when he pulls me into a hug for a few seconds, my eyes wandering around, dumbfounded.

When he pulls back, he says, “See you in class,” and dismisses himself.

Well, that’s odd.

Shrugging off the strange morning, I retrieve my bike and head to Starbucks.

***

“What can I get for you?” the barista asks.

“I’ll have a nitro cold brew with extra cream,” I say, placing my order politely.

The shop is starting to fill up, even though it’s early, and a group of girls behind me in line keeps irritating me with giggles, as if they’re twelve-year-olds.

Stepping aside, I wait for my order. There’s a woman beside me with a young child in a school uniform. The kid has some French words on his tongue, and the mother keeps covering his mouth and eyes.

“Mom, what is vaginitis infection?”

My eyes almost pop out of their sockets, but I decide to mind my own business and ignore the mother warning her child to never say anything like that again.

Luckily, my order arrives, and I grab it before heading out.

I hop on my bicycle and ride toward campus, going straight to PSYCH 201.

I’m proud of myself for arriving at school earlier today, and I’m grateful to Caden in some ways too. He has been surprisingly kind and understanding, even though it doesn’t make sense.

After parking my bicycle and chaining it to the bike rack, I make my way to the first class of the day, statistical methods in psychology.

As I walk around campus, I attract a lot of attention. Wearing makeup was a bad idea. I just wanted to feel more like an adult. In high school, I couldn’t wear makeup because Caden had already succeeded in making me feel less feminine.

Although I’m on time, the class is already packed when I arrive. It’s noisy, with murmurs wafting from every angle, and the seats are either taken or occupied by backpacks. I can’t find a familiar face, so I walk down the hall, searching for an extra seat.

While I walk, I think, Who would want to share a seat with someone who doesn’t take school seriously? On my first day yesterday, I’m sure I already made an impression. For all I know, I’m perceived as the girl who got kicked out and arrived late to the next class. If this were high school, I might be seen as an influencer, but here everyone looks at me like I’m some sort of disease.

Fortunately, the guy from yesterday waves at me, and I smile, heading back to the front row. At least someone wants me next to them.

“Hey,” I say as I sit in the chair next to him.

“Hey,” he smiles.

“We didn’t get a chance to introduce ourselves yesterday. I’m Maddison Thaddeus, but you can call me Maddie,” I tell him.

“I’m Asher Cooper. It’s nice to meet you, Maddie.” He has a cute smile that’s easily contagious.

We shake hands, and just like yesterday, the professor walks in at the same time Caden joins us. Once again, the two boys put me in the middle.

The lecture starts, and I take notes for both Caden and myself, since we only have one notebook and a textbook between us.

Caden is still acting strange, focusing on the lecture and barely saying a word to me. He doesn’t even bother to look through the notes of admiration piled up on his small desk. Today, I’m able to concentrate more than the girls behind me, who are giggling and whispering like mentally disturbed teenagers. I’m sure it’s all part of the Caden syndrome.

“Sorry,” a girl behind me says as she leans over my neck. It’s as if she just read my thoughts about how much they’re disturbing and distracting me.

“It’s okay.” I give her a small smile and turn back to the professor.

By the time the lecture is over, Caden has disappeared without a word again. It’s weird, but I don’t care. I can handle it if we both mind our own business.

I start gathering my books into my backpack when an older woman approaches me with a concerned expression.

“Get well soon, but you shouldn’t advertise it. Kids are just going to make fun of you,” the woman says. I’m confused, just like Asher, but before I can ask her anything, her phone rings and she smiles at me, walking away while talking on the phone.

“That’s weird,” I say, suspicion in my eyes.

Chuckling, Asher nods. “Very weird.”

“Whatever, let’s go to room 110 and grab a seat before someone takes them,” I suggest, standing up and slinging my bag strap over my shoulder.

Asher doesn’t respond, so I turn to him and notice a panicked look in his eyes. They’re dilated, and he seems anxious.

Confused, I ask, “What’s wrong?”

“Did you put that—” He gestures toward me, making me look down at my chest.

Even more perplexed, I shake my head at Asher. “What?”

“Your back?” he whispers softly, looking around the almost empty class.

“What’s on my back?” I suddenly start to panic, my heart racing a billion times per second.

Asher stands up and spins me around. When I face him again, he’s holding a note that reads: VAGINITIS INFECTED VICTIM.

No. Please, no. I did not walk around school with that. Let this be a nightmare.

I glance back to see the last group leaving the hall, murmuring and pointing in my direction.

I’m not stuck in a nightmare; I’m living it.

Then everything comes rushing back. The girls in line at Starbucks, the child asking his mother about the same thing on the note, the attention I attracted on my way to class, and the giggling from the girls behind me during the lecture.

No.

Who would do something so cruel? Who did I interact with who had the opportunity to place the note on me?

I had one suspicious hug today, one that looking back now, explains everything.

Of course. Caden did it. Caden attached that to me.

That wasn’t a friendly hug. It wasn’t an olive branch; it was war.

He was polite and offered peace only to later crush me—and he succeeded. He made me walk around the streets and campus unknowingly displaying that note.

That’s when everything sinks in, and I remember the phrase, Never trust a smiling cat.