5

Vienne's POV

The east entrance of Minerva High buzzed with the usual morning chaos, but today it felt like a stage. I arrived at 7:40 sharp, heart hammering harder than it had during yesterday’s library meeting. My uniform was an immaculate crisp white blouse tucked into the pleated skirt, subtle heels adding height, hair falling straight and glossy down my back. I carried Damon’s jacket in my bag again, just in case.

Today the performance began.

I spotted him before he saw me. Damon leaned against the stone pillar near the entrance, gym bag at his feet, dark hair still slightly damp from an early practice. He wore the standard uniform but made it look effortlessly rebellious, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up to reveal toned forearms. When his green eyes found mine, he straightened and walked over without rushing.

“Morning, Reyes,” he mumbled slowly, enough that only I could hear. A faint humourless smirk tugged at his lips. “You look like you're going to battle.”

I adjusted the strap of my bag. “just a bit nervous”

He stepped closer, close enough that I caught that clean soap-and-cologne scent again. “Can I hold you? Let me know where I can touch you-.”

Before he could finish, I reached out and took his hand in mine. His palm was warm, slightly rough from basketball, and the simple gesture sent an unexpected jolt through me. I forced myself not to pull away.

“Relax,” he murmured, thumb brushing lightly over my knuckles. “You’re gripping like you’re about to arm-wrestle me. We’re supposed to look comfortable.”

“I am comfortable,” I lied, but loosened my fingers anyway. “Just… adjusting.”

“Hm” it came out as a mockery.

We started walking toward the main courtyard together. Heads turned almost immediately. Whispers rippled outward like waves. Phones came out faster than I had expected. The senior class had clearly been waiting for this moment after yesterday’s viral photo.

“Vienne and the scholarship kid?” someone hissed behind us.

“No way she’s serious.”

“Look at them holding hands. Bold.”

I kept my chin high, shoulders back, projecting the confidence I’d practiced in the mirror this morning. Damon walked with that quiet, unbothered stride of his, like the attention didn’t touch him.

Halfway across the courtyard, Amelia came into view. She was without her minions.

She stood near the fountain, the same spot where Ryan had dumped me. When she saw us, her easy smile froze. Her gaze flew from our joined hands to my face.

Her reaction was one of a kind. One I had hoped for and I wish I could have it laminated.

Her perfectly glossed lips parted, then pressed into a thin line. The triumph from yesterday had vanished, replaced by pure, venomous shock.

I felt a dark spark of satisfaction bloom in my chest.

Damon must have sensed the shift because he squeezed my hand gently. “Breathe,” he said under his breath. “They’re watching. Make it count.”

We kept walking straight toward them. No detour. No avoidance.

As we passed within a few feet, she dared to step forward, blocking our path just enough to force a stop.

“Vienne,” she said, voice tight with forced casualness. “Didn’t expect this from you so soon.”

“What do you mean by ‘this’, Amelia Dawn?” I said stepping up right in front of her in provocation.

“You know what I'm talking about. Your breakup with Ryan isn't up to a week and you're already running around with another guy. That's low”

“Lower, coming from someone who had been messing around with another lady's man” I bit back in a calmer voice. “Just save it. Anyone listening to you now would think you're watching out for me. It's quite nauseating, Dawn.”

I met her gaze evenly, refusing to let my voice waver.

Amelia let out a sharp laugh, but it sounded brittle. “Oh please. One night at a club and you’re suddenly with him? The charity case? How desperate can you get?”

Damon’s grip on my hand tightened slightly, but his expression stayed calm. He turned his green eyes on Amelia, voice low and steady. “Charity case? Interesting choice of words from someone who’s been riding someone else’s spotlight for years.”

He was obviously displeased.

Amelia’s cheeks flushed. “Excuse me?”

“You heard him. He's right.” I replied instead, still holding his hand. 

Her jaw clenched as she glared at me. “This is really how you want to play it? With him?”

I lifted my chin, leaning a fraction closer to Damon. The warmth of his body beside me felt surprisingly steady. “This isn't playing, please.”

The words came out stronger than I expected. Damon glanced down at me, a hint of approval in his gaze.

Amelia stepped closer, voice dropping to a poisonous whisper. “You think this little stunt will last? He’s using you for your money and connections, Vienne. Everyone knows it. Scholarship boys don’t date girls like us without an angle.”

I chuckled softly “Let him use me. Wouldn't you mind your business?.”

I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. “I see no reason why we have to explain things to you, in fact. Would you get out of my way?”

I brushed past her with Damon as we started walking again, still hand in hand. The whispers followed us like a current, louder now.

“Did you see her face?”

“Amelia looks ready to explode.”

“They actually look good together…”

Inside the main hallway, the attention only intensified. Lockers slammed. Groups parted. A few brave freshmen even snapped discreet photos.

Damon leaned in closer as we reached my locker. “That was a bit intense back there.” he said quietly, voice for my ears only.

“My bad if her words might have gotten to you back there”

“She'd have to try harder” it came out nonchalantly.

I nodded, opening my locker and pretending to organize books while my pulse still raced. I paused, turning to him “Did you see her face? She looked pained. I can't wait to know Ryan's reaction”

I seriously can't wait for her to run along to Ryan with the news.

Damon set his gym bag down and leaned against the neighboring locker, arms crossed. “Yeah, I saw. Next time, she might not be getting away easily. His tone carried some sort of sentimental promise.

I turned to face him, a genuine laugh escaping despite everything. “Next time? You’re already planning round two?”

“For some unknown reason. And watching her ego deflate was almost worth agreeing to this.”

I closed my locker and faced him fully. “Almost? What would make it fully worth it?”

He studied me for a moment, green eyes thoughtful. “My grades. And maybe not having to pretend I don’t notice how nervous you still are.”

“I’m not nervous,” I protested, but my cheeks warmed anyway.

“Sure you’re not.” He mocked. “Just remember the deal. Tutoring starts tonight at my place after practice.”

“Whatever, don't remind me. I'd play my part” I rolled my eyes before digging into my bag and fished out his jacket. “Here. You have a habit of abandoning your jacket?”

I got no response. He only pursed his lips as he retrieved the clothing from me. “The first bell is at five. Mind if I walk you to class?”

I hesitated only a second before nodding. “Nope. Let’s give them one more show.”

We started down the hallway again, my hand finding his once more. The whispers continued, but this time they felt different. Less pitying, more curious.

As we reached the door to my first class, Damon stopped and turned to me. “One last thing before I go.”

“What?”

His voice dropped, serious now. “If this gets too much or going the wrong way, you tell me. Deal’s off if it hurts you more than it helps. I’m not here to make your life harder.”

The unexpected gentleness in his tone caught me off guard. For a moment, I was almost speechless.

“I’ll tell you,” I said softly. “But right now… this feels like the right kind of trouble.”

He threw me one last nod before turning around. “See you after practice.”

“Sure.”

I watched him walk away, broad shoulders cutting through the crowd. My chest felt lighter than it had since the courtyard yesterday. The plan was working. Amelia is already rattled. The school was talking.

Ryan is next.

Yet when I sat at my desk and caught a few girls whispering my name with new interest instead of pity, I couldn’t deny the spark of something unexpected.