Lahat ng Kabanata ng Fragile Ties Of Love: Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

The bracelet felt heavier than it looked. It was just a simple black cord with a silver disc, barely the size of a dime. Engraved with Z + L. Small. Clean. Unassuming. But when I slipped it onto my wrist, it felt like something more. Like a promise. Like a thread tying me to Liam Hunter in a way I wasn’t ready to name. The whole walk home, I kept glancing down at it. Twisting it, tracing the initials over and over like I was trying to make sense of them. Of him. He hadn’t needed to do it. I didn’t ask for it. Hell, I didn’t even know he was capable of something that… thoughtful. Sweet. Sentimental. And yet there he was. Standing in front of me after school like the world hadn’t tilted on its axis, handing me a velvet pouch that made my heart race faster than it had any right to. I saw it, and I thought of you. Of us. Us. That word echoed in my head as I reached the front door, my fingers tightening around the strap of my backpack. Kaylee wasn’t home—thank God—and Nic

LIAM: It was supposed to be just another afternoon hangout. The same leather booth at Montero’s Pizza, the same laughter echoing around the table, the same forced smile on my face. Beatrice sat beside me, her manicured fingers trailing the rim of her soda glass. Her two loyal shadows giggled over something on their phones, and my boys—Matteo, Lucas, Levi and Mason—were tossing pepperoni slices into each other’s mouths like idiots. Same crowd. Same energy. Except it wasn’t the same anymore. Not for me. Not when Zara’s bracelet was tight around my wrist, reminding me of everything I was pretending not to feel. I was halfway through a slice of pizza when Beatrice leaned in closer. Her perfume was strong—sweet and overbearing, like she was trying too hard to smell expensive. “We’ve been thinking,” she said, lips curved in that signature smirk she always wore when she was up to no good. “Dangerous,” I muttered. Matteo laughed. Beatrice didn’t. “I’m serious,” she said,

Zara By Monday, the campaign was officially in motion. Liam insisted we start strong. “First impressions matter,” he said, holding up a custom flyer he’d helped design over the weekend. My face was sketched cartoon-style, surrounded by little doodles — a crown, boots, and a spray paint can. In bold, block letters across the top, it read: Vote Zara — Prom Queen with an Edge I rolled my eyes when I saw it. “You made me look like a comic book vigilante.” Liam grinned. “That’s because you are one.” We passed out flyers between classes, stuck mini posters on lockers (with removable adhesive, thank you very much), and handed out “ZQ” pins shaped like mini palettes with glitter crowns painted on them. Liam wore his proudly on his denim jacket. To my surprise, people responded. Not just the art kids or the ones who knew me by name — but students I’d never spoken to before. One girl said she loved how “real” my campaign felt. Another complimented my black boots with the silver l

ZARAMy bedroom, which usually felt like a safe cocoon of black hoodies, ripped jeans, and sports gear, now looked like a whirlwind had passed through it — a whirlwind made of bobby pins, makeup brushes, perfume bottles, and shimmery highlighters that sparkled under the yellow light.Kaylee was standing behind me, curling the last piece of my hair as I sat nervously in front of the vanity mirror.“Will you stop moving?” she muttered with mock annoyance.“I can’t help it,” I said, bouncing my leg up and down. “I feel like I’m about to throw up or pass out. Maybe both.”Kaylee gave me a sympathetic smile through the mirror. “Prom nerves. Totally normal. Also, you’re about to knock Liam Hunter completely off his axis, so you might as well own it.”I let out a breathy laugh, but it didn’t help much.Liam was coming to pick me up in less than half an hour. I hadn’t seen him since last night when he sent a string of texts about how excited he was, how he “couldn’t wait to see me,” and how h

ZARA I’ve never heard silence this loud. Not the kind where no one is speaking — but the kind that fills the air with unspoken words, stares, and stunned reactions. That’s what it felt like walking into prom with Liam Hunter. He hadn’t even said a word when he opened the car door for me, but I could tell. I saw it in his eyes. The way he looked at me like I wasn’t just a girl in a dress but something he hadn’t expected to be real. Something he wasn’t ready for. I thought I’d feel awkward. Clumsy. Like a girl wearing someone else’s clothes. But standing beside Liam, his hand resting at the small of my back, I didn’t feel out of place. I felt powerful. Like I’d just walked into a room and changed the story. I could feel the way eyes followed me. Whispers started. People I barely knew were doing double takes, nudging their friends. And for the first time ever, the stares didn’t feel cruel. They didn’t feel mocking. They felt… amazed. Like somehow, I’d gone from invi