LOGIN“You there, get over there,” she ordered. I could feel my annoyance building up. Every time I encountered girls like her, it made me super mad because they reminded me how much of a chronic cheat Atlas was and how foolish I was to waste a whole year of my life on him.
I took a step forward.
“A little birdie told me that you've been eyeing my boyfriend,” Charlotte crossed her arms. “Care to explain?”
No, I don't. There's nothing to explain.
My eyes shifted to Emilia who was hiding behind the girls. So she spilled my secret and couldn't even bear to look me in the eye. Other bestfriends fight for their girls but her, she stabs me in the back and even spreads the news.
I wondered if Charlotte knew that she was sleeping with Atlas too. Probably not, because that cute little face of hers would have been rebranded.
“I have nothing to explain,” I told Charlotte.
Charlotte’s glossy pink lips curved into a smirk that made my skin crawl. “Oh, you have something to explain, sweetheart. Because I don’t like it when little nobodies think they can circle my territory.”
Her “squad” tightened the semi-circle around me, the smell of body spray and synthetic vanilla closing in. Emilia’s eyes darted between us like she was silently begging me not to say something that would make Charlotte angry.
Too late for that.
Charlotte took another step forward, lowering her voice so it was just loud enough for her posse to hear. “Word is… Evans Thorpe’s got you on speed dial now too. Busy little bee, aren’t you?”
I mentally face-palmed. That was one thing about Blackridge, you could never keep anything secret. Now I was on everyone's hit list for something I wasn't even interested in.
There was a ripple of laughter behind her. Someone muttered, “She probably thinks she’s special.”
I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste iron. “I’m not interested in Evans or Atlas,” I said flatly. “So if that’s all, I’d like to eat my lunch without the circus act.”
Charlotte’s smirk didn’t falter. “Aw, look at her. Acting like she’s too good for them.” She tilted her head. “Tell you what. I’ll believe you… if you do one thing for me.”
Her eyes flicked toward the main hallway, and two of her girls immediately grabbed my arms before I could react.
“Charlotte…” Emilia’s voice was small, uncertain.
“Shut up, Em,” Charlotte snapped without looking at her. Then she leaned in close enough for me to see the shimmer of her highlighter. “Atlas and Evans might like playing with their toys, but I like making sure those toys know their place.”
“How about knowing your place, instead? You can see others are toys but you somehow don't consider yourself one? What kind of twisted logic is that?” I didn't even realise I said the words aloud until Emilia gasped.
“Tamine! You're making things worse!”
I bkinked in shock, startled by the redness of Charlotte's face.
Shit! Now I'm really dead.
Someone explain how I went from thinking I was about to die… to sitting in the cafeteria, eating lunch with a bunch of hockey players.
“You’re coming to watch the game today, right?” one asked.
“I can get you a ticket if you’re interested,” another said.
“Okay, calm the fuck down, y’all,” Evans snorted. “Nobody’s asking you to spoil my girl.”
My girl.
I choked on my Sprite. “Your girl?”
So… how did I end up here? Let’s rewind.
Charlotte’s claws, disguised as manicured fingers, dug into my arm while her squad pinned me to the lockers. The hallway smelled like perfume and popcorn. Students slowed to watch, some smirking, others holding up their phones like they were filming a blockbuster. My pulse pounded in my ears as I shut my eyes, waiting for the slap.
But the slap never landed.
A smooth, lazy voice cut through the hallway noise. “Let her go.”
I opened my eyes slowly to see the crowd shift like a ripple in water, parting just enough for Evans Thorpe to stroll into the scene. Hands in his pockets, that stupid smirk plastered on his face, like this was all just entertainment for him.
“Evans,” Charlotte said in surprise, her tone softening instantly, “this has nothing to do with you.”
He stopped in front of me, his gaze flicking over my face, then down to Charlotte’s grip on my arm. “I said,” his voice dropped lower, colder, “let. her. go.”
Charlotte actually hesitated, but the second his eyes hardened, she released me, her fingers leaving faint crescent marks in my skin.
Before I could say anything, anything at all, Evans threw an arm casually around my shoulders and turned to the crowd. My Brian short-circuited as his scent engulfed me. I was almost tempted to lean into him.
Almost.
“She’s with me,” he announced, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “So unless you want to start beef with me and the team…” His gaze swept the room, daring anyone to speak. No one did. “Get lost.”
The feeling of Evans’s cheap, worn pen in her pocket was a constant, irritating reminder that her Rule Number Two was officially compromised. Tamine had spent the evening trying to convince herself that keeping the pen was simply a matter of principle—she was holding it hostage until he improved his grade but the truth was, she couldn't stop thinking about the serious, focused look in his eyes when he talked about earning something he wanted.It was this dizzying internal debate that made her completely unprepared for the ambush.Tamine was walking toward her locker during the crowded lunch break, navigating the sea of students with her head down, a practiced strategy. She felt a presence halt her path and looked up to see Atlas Thorpe leaning against the metal bank of lockers, a casual obstruction. He wasn't alone; his usual entourage of fellow Quarterback cronies and a couple of cheerleaders stood nearby, creating a little pocket of judgmental silence around them.Public humiliation
Tamine spent the whole day trying to forget the sight of Atlas Thorpe outside the window. And the even worse sound of Evans’s last sentence: “I already broke your first rule. Let’s work on the others.”She found Evans waiting for her after school in the same stuffy room, 214. He wasn't sprawled out today. He was sitting up straight, staring at a blank page."Did you read the chapters?" Tamine asked, trying to sound bored and academic, not like someone whose palms were sweating."I read them," Evans said, not looking up. "I just don't get the point of that much drama.""It's classic literature, Evans. The point is to explore human nature.""Okay, then let's explore my nature," he countered, finally looking at her. "I'm telling you, this is pointless. I'm going to fail the class anyway. Why do you care so much?"Tamine felt a surge of genuine frustration. She hated laziness. "I care because I was told to care! And you're not stupid. You got that quiz question right yesterday."Evans sig
Tamine clutched the three-ring binder to her chest like a shield. She had chosen the most unromantic place possible for their first mandatory tutoring session: Classroom 214, a musty, forgotten space on the third floor that smelled vaguely of old chalk and desperation. The room was mostly empty, the low winter sun casting long, judgmental shadows across the chipped linoleum floor.Rule Number Two: Avoid the Thorpe brothers at all costs.That rule had been shattered the moment Mrs. Davies paired her with Evans. Now, it was just her, her shattered heart, and Evans Thorpe, the source of her current, agonizing predicament.He was already there, sprawled in a student desk three sizes too small for his frame. His hockey duffel bag a ridiculous canvas beast sat beside him, reeking faintly of sweat and something expensive, like cologne mixed with ice melt. Evans didn't look up immediately. He was fiddling with a pen, clicking the top with a rhythmic, irritating tap.“You’re late, Jordan,” he
/Tamine/I walked in on monday morning, I could already feel it before stepping through the school gates, the stares, the phones tilted just enough to record my reaction. I didn’t have to look their way to know what they were saying.Me again? What has charlotte done this time, surely she is not going to back down till she see’s my end.A video had gone viral.My mother’s drunken screaming. Me standing there helpless, tears running down my face. Every second of my humiliation broadcasted to the entire school, courtesy of Charlotte Hart and her perfect manicure.“Trailer trash,” someone muttered as I walked past.“Thorpe charity case,” another said.I forced myself not to react. Not to look back. I just needed to make it through the day. Head down, heart quiet, hands steady.I was not ready for any drama whatsoever, I had no energy left in me.Except my hands weren’t steady. They were trembling so hard that I almost dropped my books.I reached my locker and what I saw made me froze.Ta
/Evans/I have heard how about how rumors spread fast at Blackridge and here I am experiencing it firsthand.This was wildfire.By first period, everyone already knew.By second, they had twisted it.And by lunch, I was the villain of some story I didn’t even write“She slept with both brothers.”“She was with Evans when Atlas found out.”“No wonder she got that tutor deal, she was tutoring him in bed.”Every whisper hit like rock. The looks were not subtle either, even the smirks, raised brows, girls pretending not to stare. Guys elbowing each other like this was the drama they had all been waiting for.I kept my head down, my jaw tight, my hands shoved into my jacket pockets as I walked down the hallway. But inside, I was seething. Not at them. At her.Charlotte Hart.Of course it was her.I saw her smirk in the cafeteria yesterday, that sick kind of satisfaction when the news dropped. And the way Atlas had looked at me afterward, like he was ready to rip my head off.He cornered me
/-Tamine-/ By Monday, Blackridge wasn’t a school anymore. It was a damn circus. Phones were out before the first bell, faces lit by the glow of screens, whispers darting faster than the PA announcements. I knew before I even opened my locker that Charlotte’s plan had worked. Because my name was already trending on Blackridge’s unofficial gossip page: “Tutor or temptress? Top student caught cozy with Evans Thorpe” The blurry picture of me and Evans from the bleachers was plastered everywhere, captioned with hashtags I wanted to crawl into the floor and die over. #TeacherPet #ThorpeToy #ScandalQueen My hands shook as I shoved books into my bag, trying to breathe past the pressure in my chest. “Wow, guess we know how she got that A in Lit,” someone muttered behind me. “Must be nice, climbing grades and hockey players at the same time.” “Bet she tutors him real good.” Laughter stung my ears, sharp as glass. I slammed my locker shut and spun around looking straight a







