Chapter 7

Floyd downed the shot in one gulp, then set a glass of orange juice down in front of Claire.

"You drink this," he said flatly before going back to his seat.

Claire's desk mate rushed over excitedly, lowering her voice. "What's going on? How did Floyd know you're allergic to alcohol? I didn't even know that."

Claire drifted into thought. She remembered when she had first fallen genuinely for Floyd, terrified that he would think she was some bad girl who smoked and drank.

She had trailed after him all the way to the library, whispering in his ear, "Floyd, don't judge me by my cover. I don't smoke or drink. In fact, I have a severe alcohol allergy. I can't drink a single drop."

She remembered the sunlight tracing his handsome profile—cool, distant, and deeply focused. She had assumed he wasn't listening at all. Yet, to her surprise, he had remembered every detail.

Claire took a quiet sip of her orange juice, an unexplainable sensation stirring in her chest. The party dragged on until midnight before finally wrapping up.

Many people got drunk, and that included Floyd. Given his immense popularity, nobody had dared force drinks on him before, but once he downed a glass on Claire's behalf, everyone grew bold and lined up to toast him.

On the other hand, Claire hadn't touched a drop of alcohol, yet for some strange reason, her head was spinning violently. Stepping out toward the exit, she nearly stumbled.

Shirley, who was supporting Floyd with one arm, grabbed her with the other.

"You guys head home first," Shirley told the crowd. "Floyd passed his driving test and drove here today, but since he's been drinking, I'll drive his car back and drop my sister off at home."

Someone voiced concern. "Shirley, do you even have a license? And I thought you had a bit to drink too."

"I only took a tiny sip," Shirley chuckled. "And I've got my license, so don't worry."

With that, she guided both Claire and Floyd outside.

Claire wanted to break free, but for some reason, her body felt drained of strength. She had no choice but to let Shirley shove her into the car.

What happened next was a blur. Waves of dizziness clouded her vision until she could barely see. All she remembered was a violent collision, screams echoing around her, and then total darkness.

When she opened her eyes again, Claire found herself lying in a hospital room. Standing before her was her homeroom teacher, looking stern and disappointed.

"Claire, do you realize you were driving without a license last night? By all rights, the school should issue a major infraction on your academic record."

Claire froze in disbelief. "What?"

From the teacher's explanation, she roughly pieced together what had happened. The car crash had occurred near the school gate while Shirley was driving her and Floyd home.

Luckily, because it happened near school grounds, the staff handled it immediately to prevent police intervention, keeping the incident quiet.

Yet for reasons unknown, in the teacher's narrative, the driver had become her, and the person driving without a license was her.

She was stunned. "Ma'am, I wasn't the one driving at all. It was Shirley..."

"Claire, stop making excuses," the teacher interrupted, shaking his head. "Floyd already told us everything. He confirmed that you were the one driving last night."

Claire's words died in her throat.

The teacher sighed. "Normally, an offense this serious would result in a major disciplinary mark. But considering you're this year's top scorer, the school leadership decided after discussion to let it slide this time.

"But you must be more careful in the future. You cannot play games with your life and the lives of your classmates."

After giving Claire a stern lecture, the teacher turned and left. Moments later, the door swung open, and Floyd stepped inside.

Claire looked at him, her voice trembling. "Why did you lie to the teacher and say I was the one driving last night?"

"Claire..." Floyd paused. "Shirley hasn't received her license yet. If they find out she was driving, she'll face charges for driving without a license, and possibly DUI.

"This is a critical moment for her special admission to Yewhaven Unversity. I couldn't let her get a disciplinary mark on her record."

"And what about me?" Claire's voice shook uncontrollably. "Did you ever stop to think that I could get a major mark on my record? That my university admissions could be ruined?"

"It's not like you were going to get into a top university anyway," he said flatly.

Claire's voice stopped abruptly as she stared at him in shock. "What did you just say?"

Just because her grades were poor, she was expected to blindly take the fall for Shirley? If not for her status as the top scorer, the school administration would have slapped a major disciplinary mark on her record without hesitation.

If that had happened, any top university would be out of reach, and even getting her high school diploma might have been at risk.

Floyd offered no further answer to her question. Instead, he pulled out a folder and laid it in front of her.

"These are admissions materials for several art academies in Yewhaven," he said indifferently. "Though given your scores, you probably won't make it this year. If you work hard and retake the exam, you can still go to university in the same city as me."

Claire looked down at the documents before her, finding the situation absurd to the extreme. She had once told him about her university plans.

She had meant attending the same university as him. Yet Floyd had assumed the same city. Even worse, after using her as Shirley's scapegoat, he presented this condescending suggestion as some form of compensation.

Did he truly believe her love for him meant she would tolerate anything?

"The truth is, I..." she started to explain, but the door slammed open as a classmate burst in frantically. "Floyd, bad news. Shirley wakes up and is screaming that her head hurts terribly. Hurry and check on her!"

Floyd's expression shifted. He stood up immediately, but as he reached the door, he paused and turned back to Claire. "I'll discuss your retake options when I get back."

Then, he left the room without looking back.

Claire let out a quiet, bitter smile. Without hesitation, she tossed the folder straight into the trash can. Pulling out her phone, she called the police.

"Hello, I'd like to report a car crash that occurred near the gate of Oakridge High last night."

She knew the teachers had swallowed Floyd's story because they lacked access to traffic camera footage. But once the police intervened, everything would change.

Having taken care of everything, she had just about two hours left before her flight to Farrowdene. Her luggage had already been shipped out, and her student visa had been approved weeks ago.

After double-checking her passport, she stepped outside and hailed a cab. "To the airport, please."

The taxi sped away into the distance. At the same time, Oakridge High's official announcement celebrating this year's top scorer finally went live on the web.