บททั้งหมดของ Puck me. I’m yours: บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 30

Liam:The drive to Hendricks's office was fast, the road clear; most students still passed out from the party the night before.Hendricks's office at eight a.m. felt a little different from usual. It was cold, the windows were still shut, and the curtains were still drawn, shielding out the morning light. As always when serious, he didn't invite me to sit."You want to explain what's happening," he said, not looking up from the file on his desk."I... I..." I stammered, unable to tell if he meant the kiss last night or the blog post."Why have I got a voicemail from a sports entertainment blogger asking me to confirm or deny that your relationship started as some stunt for publicity?"The floor tilted under my feet. He wasn't smiling. His face carried the kind of wrinkles brought on by real stress."Who called you?" I asked, and instantly regretted it as a sharp glare shot my way."Doesn't matter who called me, Carter." He blew out a cold breath. "I told you to make this boring.""I .

Violet:I stared at Whitfield's email until the letters blurred into one. The words repeated in my head louder than I'd actually read them. Trial-basis case file: Liam Carter.Jess was still talking beside me, hands flying in demonstration, mentioning hashtags, karma, and Chloe facing the backlash. But the more I listened, the more distant her voice sounded. My eyes flickered back to the email. I read it three more times, hoping it would say something different, wishing there was a part of it I'd missed. I checked every folder, spam to promotions, hoping for a mistake, hoping a second email would follow, explaining everything. Nothing."V? You're spacing out again." Jess snapped her fingers in front of my face."I got assigned his case," I said before I could fully process the words."Whose case?" she asked, a little excitement lingering in her tone."Liam's. Liam Carter," I turned the phone toward her. "Whitfield's trial run. My first assignment, and she's putting me on Liam."Jess b

Liam:After everything was gathered, Derek and I sat in the car like a couple of victorious detectives. The satisfaction of holding someone's reputation in your hands felt overwhelming, in a bitter kind of way ... but knowing that person had hurt her too many times to count, the bitterness came with an aftersweetness.I've never been a villain. Derek certainly has. I've watched him coldly reject one girl after another. He was cute and flirty, sure, but dating was never a word his tongue seemed willing to accept, so it never lasted, not past a few sentences anyway. Which is why hearing him advise me not to post directly surprised me."Anonymous leaks are exactly what got you into this mess," he said firmly. My chest twisted. "Marcus has never gone out and told the world he's got a vendetta against you and his ex. Yeah, the world can guess, and a good number of people can put two and two together, but that's still just speculation, considering he was recently caught in the crossfire wit

Violet:The morning air was calm and chilly. Inside the ice rink, my eyes first noticed Caleb, who seemed to have been waiting a little too long. He glanced at me, gave me a little smile, and tapped the space beside him. I forced a smile back."Gal... you're white as paper," he stated, pointing at my face.I tried to force a wider smile, but he only shook his head in disappointment."Is it that bad?" he asked.I looked at the man before me, and for a long time, I couldn't answer. He was openly friendly, and I couldn't help but notice the air around him felt warm without him even trying to show it. What was I to tell this nice stranger...that I had been assigned to my ex? It was laughable, because no one in their right senses would accept such a thing. It wasn't about the breakup, but how it all played out and was still playing out. I’ve known Marcus long enough to know some of his darkest secrets, and my position as his psychologist meant every one of those secrets would be laid bare

Violet:After the call, I watched Liam's car slowly drive off, like he wasn't quite willing to leave. I kept watching the dimmed stars for a while, arms folded over my chest. Time passed, and my mind gradually drifted back to the day's events ... receiving the file, reading Whitfield's email, the confrontation at the rink, and eventually walking out of it with Marcus Webb trailing beside me.The moment we stepped outside, his lips carried that victorious smirk he always wore after winning some kind of bet, one I've always hated."I'll call a cab," he said, but I wasn't listening. I'd already started walking back toward the office. It wasn't far ... ten minutes at my pace ... so whatever followed after that, I didn't hear."V ... Violet," Marcus called from behind, but I didn't stop, only picked up my pace. A few heads turned, and not wanting to make another headline, I refused to entertain whatever he had to say in the middle of a crowd.The moment we got back to the sports psychology