Novel & Cerita Highschool Sweethearts Lyrics

The day before the semester began, my childhood friend Daniel Carter asked if he could borrow my private jet. Thinking he'd finally changed his ways, I agreed without a second thought. A moment later, he transferred a single dollar, calling it rent because he couldn't stand the thought of freeloading. The quirky amount said more than words ever could. I smiled and accepted it. On the first day of school, I kept things low-key, taking a cab back to campus. But when I arrived, there it was, my private jet parked right in the middle of the quad. The jet had been decked out in bubblegum pink, and students crowded around, their eyes shining with envy. My heart leapt. For once, I thought Daniel had finally figured it out. Beaming, I braced myself for his surprise. But as I drew closer, my smile froze. Sitting barefoot in the pilot's seat, my seat, was Clara West, the campus' queen bee.

My brother and childhood sweetheart both fall in love with my adopted sister who is about to marry someplace afar in my stead. One of them has forgotten about me, and the other has broken his vow to always be by my side. To win back Mona Pierce—who has learned the truth—they join forces to push me down the stairs on my birthday. I lose all hope in them and agree to the arranged marriage. Five days later, I leave the Greer family for good. Yet, after my departure, they regret everything.

My girlfriend Chloe Bennett's childhood buddy, Daniel Miller, binds himself to a transfer system. Everything he eats gets sent straight into my stomach. He creates a live stream channel and eats nonstop for 12 hours a day to rake in money. Meanwhile, I end up in the ER with acute pancreatitis. I try to explain everything to Chloe, but she just looks at me like I've lost my mind. "How could something that ridiculous exist? If food could magically transfer, nobody would starve in the world. You're just jealous he's making money from streaming." Afterward, Daniel's every live stream triggers another pancreatitis episode, sending me back to the ER until I'm barely holding on. I get tested, but the doctors can't figure out what's wrong. They even want to admit me to psych. Later, in a desperate bid to outdo another streamer, Daniel downs ten pounds of mashed potatoes at once. The overload destroys my spleen and stomach, causing massive internal bleeding that kills me. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day of Daniel's very first live stream. This time, I rush out and order 20 takeout dishes before him. "This time, I'm eating first."

When the girlfriend of my childhood friend, Shane Sheridan, comes over for the first time, I help to prepare a feast to welcome her. Lydia Forestwood glances at the garlic butter shrimp and suddenly flies into a rage. "You deliberately made something I'm allergic to! You want to embarrass and badmouth me in front of my boyfriend so you can take my place. Stop dreaming! If he were ever interested in you, then I wouldn't be here." I'm confused and quickly explain that his mom broke her leg and asked me to come and help. I also explain that I already have a fiancé and have zero interest in Shane. She lets out a cold laugh. "Stop playing hard to get. I can spot a scheming woman in a glance. You cling to my boyfriend shamelessly by claiming to be his close childhood friend every day. It's disgusting! "Take a good look at yourself. You're old and ugly. What man would ever want you? If there's one, he'd have to be blind." Shane is holding back laughter the whole time. Just as I clench my fists, ready to lose my temper, he wraps an arm around his girlfriend and shows off smugly. He says, "She has a sharp tongue, doesn't she? Finally, there is someone who can put you in your place. You won't be able to bully me from now on." I stare at his indifferent expression and slap him hard across the face. "Get lost! Both you and your girlfriend aren't even worthy of my time!"

My mother fell critically ill and was rushed to the hospital. Desperate, I knelt before my fiancé—the department's chief surgeon—and begged him to take charge of her operation. But outside the ICU, he was carefully tending to a scraped knee. Lucy Wendell's scraped knee, to be exact. Just as I was drowning in hopelessness, Cameron Mitchell—the hospital director and my childhood friend—pushed open the operating room doors and handed me a marriage proposal. "Marry me, and I'll personally perform your mother's surgery." With trembling hands, I signed my name, clinging to the last shred of hope that she could be saved. But she never made it through that stormy night. Cameron handled all the funeral arrangements himself, and our wedding proceeded as scheduled. Seven years later, in the hushed silence of the hospital archives, I overheard Cameron speaking with the deputy director. "Cameron, why did you transfer your mother-in-law's organ to Lucy's mother during that surgery? Weren't you afraid of getting caught?" "I owed Lucy," he replied. "If I hadn't hesitated back then, Lucy never would've chosen medical aid work in Africa… and her mother wouldn't have fallen ill from the grief."

On the eve of my engagement banquet, news broke that my fiancé had fathered a child with his mistress, and it spread like wildfire. Before I could confront him, Jayden Ford brushed it off casually. "It was just an accident. Focus on organizing the engagement banquet first. Besides, your dad’s in the late stages of stomach cancer. Calling off the engagement now won’t do either family any good." That night, he skipped the banquet but posted a photo of a swaddled newborn on social media. When I video-called him, he was bottle-feeding the baby. "I’ve been busy taking care of the kid. You know how it is. Our family lineage has always been sparse and dwindling, and the child takes priority." He wiped milk from the baby’s mouth. "But don’t worry. Once he’s a month old, I’ll send him to the overseas. Just show up on holidays and pretend to be his mom. The title of Mrs. Ford will always be yours." I stared at the matching diamond ring on his finger and couldn’t help but laugh. "Jayden, this engagement is off." He scoffed, "You're really throwing a tantrum over something like this? Don’t be so childish." I hung up on him and called his father—Charles Ford—directly. "I heard you’re looking for a new wife? Why not consider me?" I ran a hand over my belly and smiled. "After all, I’ve got a naturally fertile body. I can give you as many sons as you want." So much for being the sole heir. I’ll make sure he has plenty of brothers to keep him company.

My husband's beloved lover suffered from menstruation complications. A traveling doctor claimed that a fresh placenta was needed to cure her. His gaze fixated on my seven-months-pregnant baby bump. And thus, I was pinned down on the bed as they ripped the placenta from my body. My son was carelessly tossed aside. He didn't even get the chance to cry before his tiny body fell silent forever. My husband pinched his nose in disgust, frowning as he looked at me—bleeding out, feebly reaching for my child. “It’s just a premature baby. He'll be fine after a few days of care. Why are you making such a fuss? Sandra is waiting for her medicine." He left and locked the door behind him without looking back. He claimed it was a lesson I needed to learn. By the time he finally remembered us, my son and I had long since bled dry, our bodies cold and stiff.

Dakota Stelter and I tumbled down that steep ravine together. I lay there bleeding and broken, only to watch my boyfriend scoop her into his arms and walk away without a backward glance. He left me. In that moment, in every way that mattered. While everyone fussed over Dakota's scratches, no one even checked if I was still breathing. When I was finally rescued and recovering at the hospital, my boyfriend didn't even visit. I was hurt. So I moved on. Piece by piece, I rebuilt myself without him. But then he became distraught. Suddenly, he was sobbing, telling me he had always loved me.

When my mother asked me who I wanted to marry, this time, I chose none of them. Instead, I decided to go to the Northwest and serve my country. In my previous life, both my childhood friend, once a captain, and my educated fiancé courted me. I had feelings for both. But while I was still struggling to decide who I wanted as my husband, both accidentally ingested something. In a dazed state, I spent a chaotic night. After that, my parents asked one of the men to marry me. On the wedding day, the first love in both their hearts, the woman they had always truly loved, found out the truth. Out of spite, she accepted a local thug’s proposal. After marrying him, she was forced to give birth to ten children, one after another, until she died tragically. After her death, both men grabbed me by the throat and asked, “Why did she have to die such a miserable death, while you’re still alive and well?” They strangled me to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day when my childhood friend and my fiancé had been drugged.

After graduation, I spend a year interning with my mentor, a healer, out in the neutral lands—no packs, no laws, and no one to protect me. My brother, the Lycan Chairman of all werewolves, nearly loses his mind over it. He's terrified I'll fall for some Rogue and impulsively form a reckless mate bond. As such, he handpicks an arranged mate for me—Falcon Sterling, the Alpha of the strongest pack in Northmere. He's handsome and dangerous, a legendary figure. My brother orders me to come home for the mating ceremony, so I have no choice but to go pick out a Luna crown. At the jewelry shop, my eyes snap straight to a crown made of pure silver and covered in diamonds. Just as I reach out to take it, a sharp female voice cuts in. "I like the one she's holding. I'll take it. Hand it over." Before I can react, the clerk snatches the crown right out of my hands, nearly scraping my skin. I straighten up, forcing myself to stay calm. "Ever heard of 'first come, first served?' I saw it first. Is this how you do things here?" The she-wolf slowly turns toward me, casting me a long, mocking look. "This crown costs 300 thousand dollars. You sure you can afford it, peasant? I grew up with the Alpha of the Silvermoon pack, Falcon Sterling. Around here, I make the rules." I stare at her, almost laughing. Isn't that funny? Falcon just happens to be my arranged mate. I pull out my phone and press the call button. "Hey, Falcon. Your adorable childhood sweetheart just stole the Luna crown I'm supposed to wear for the mating ceremony. What do you think I should do about that?"