Todos los capítulos de My Bully Next Door: Capítulo 21 - Capítulo 30

Ella POVI shouldn’t go after him.That’s the smart choice.The safe choice.The version of me that knows better is practically screaming it in my head.Walk away.Stay out of it.Don’t get pulled into whatever that was.Because whatever just happened—It wasn’t normal.It wasn’t him.Beckett Cross does not defend me.He especially doesn’t shove people over me.In front of everyone.And yet—He did.My heart is still racing as I push through the side gate, away from the noise of the party. The music dulls behind me. The laughter fades.But the tension?That follows me.He’s there.By the side of the house.Hands braced on the edge of a table.Head down.Breathing like he’s trying to get control back.For a second—I almost turn around.Because this version of him?I don’t know it.And that makes it worse than the version that hates me.But then—I remember the hallway.The spitballs.The laughter.All the times he stood there and did nothing.And suddenly—I’m not scared.I’m angry.“

Beckett POVI shouldn’t be thinking about her.That’s the first thing that hits me the second I walk into the house. The door shuts behind me, the noise from the party dulls, and suddenly it’s just me… and my thoughts.And somehow, every single one of them keeps circling back to her.I drag a hand down my face and head straight for the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water like that’s going to fix anything. It doesn’t. I lean back against the counter, twist the cap, take a long drink—Still there.Her.Standing by the pool. Looking at me like I was someone she didn’t recognize. Like I’d done something that didn’t make sense.She’s not wrong.None of that made sense.I shouldn’t have snapped. Shouldn’t have shoved Mason. Shouldn’t have let it get that far. But that’s not the part stuck in my head.It’s her.The way she walked in like she didn’t belong—but didn’t back down anyway. The way everyone noticed. The way I noticed.I push off the counter, irritated with myself. “This is stupid,”

Maya POVI wake up before my alarm.For a second, I don’t know where I am. The room feels unfamiliar, too quiet, too big.Then it hits.Beckett’s house.Last night.Him.My chest tightens and I roll onto my back, staring up at the ceiling like if I just stay still long enough, I won’t have to deal with any of it.“Cool,” I mutter. “Love that for me.”I drag a hand over my face and sit up slowly. Everything feels heavy. Not in a crying way—worse.Empty.Like something just… shut off.And honestly?Good.Because I can’t keep doing that—feeling everything so intensely just to get slapped back into reality.So I make a decision.Simple. Clean.I’m done.No more looking at him.No more thinking about him.No more pretending anything about him matters.Two weeks.That’s it.I can survive two weeks.I swing my legs off the bed and stand, grabbing the first oversized hoodie I can find and pulling it over my head. It falls over me like armor, familiar and safe.Better.I don’t bother with make

Beckett POVI should leave.That’s the first thought in my head as I stand in the hallway, staring at nothing, listening to the quiet echo of her footsteps disappearing down the hall.I should grab my keys, get out, go anywhere else.Instead—“Beckett!”I close my eyes for a second.Of course.Mason.I turn back toward the living room. “What?”“Are we eating lunch or what?” he asks, sprawled across the floor like he’s been starved for days.“It’s barely noon.”“So?” he shrugs. “I’m hungry.”I run a hand through my hair, exhaling. “Yeah, alright.”I head into the kitchen, opening the fridge, not even paying attention to what I’m grabbing. Sandwich stuff. Easy.Footsteps.I don’t look.I know it’s her.She moves into the kitchen quietly, like she’s trying not to exist in the same space as me. Keeps her distance. Stays on the other side of the counter.“Does he like turkey or ham?” she asks.Not to me.Just… out loud.“He’ll eat anything,” I answer.A pause.Then she nods slightly. “Okay

Beckett POVI can’t sleep.I’ve been staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours, one arm tucked behind my head, the other clenched tight against my chest like I’m trying to hold something down. The house is quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that makes everything louder—my thoughts, my breathing… her.Ella.I let out a frustrated breath and drag a hand down my face.What the hell is wrong with me?I shift onto my side, then onto my back again, like that’s somehow going to fix it. It doesn’t. Nothing does. Every time I close my eyes, it’s the same thing.Her voice.Her face.The way she looked at me tonight.Not soft. Not hurt like usual.Cold.That’s what’s messing with me.She’s always… taken it. The jokes. The looks. The comments. She’d shrink, look down, disappear into those oversized hoodies like she was trying to erase herself.But tonight?She didn’t shrink.She snapped.And now I can’t stop thinking about it.I groan under my breath and sit up, running both hands through