"—and then, you know what baby?! I said can I help you? You like me or something?!"

Hill keeps on talking and talking, boasting about how wanted she is as a human being. In a deadpan expression, Tyler fixes his eyes on the road, occasionally stealing several glances at you through the rearview mirror. Keeping your cool, you just keep scrolling through Twitter and Tiktok back and forth with a blank expression. You notice how he finally parks the car.. then turns the machine off. For a moment he looks hesitant, but then he regains composure, removes his hands from the wheel, and announces,

"We're here—"

"Thanks for the ride."

Without even letting him finish his sentence, you cut in, and flash a slight smile to the both of them, not even giving a damn whether they see it or not. Seemingly in a hurry, you unlock the car door by yourself in haste—and scurry away. Leaving both of them in the car alone—can't blame you though. Just wanting to get away from them—as fast your legs could take you.

Tyler watches you from the window frame in alert. Everything seems to go silent as conflicts seep into his mind. 'Should I talk to her? Or later when we get home—should I—'

fuck this.

He takes his bag swiftly and flees, leaving the trunk open, intending to catch up with you—but a hand stops him.

"Ty? Where are you going? You haven't even turned off the car!"

"Shit—right—"

He hurriedly turns off the car, quickly looking ahead to find you—but you're starting to disappear from view, getting further away..

and vanish through the school door.

"Ok why are you in such a hurry?!"

"Later—"

Tyler hurriedly replies as he dashes away through the school halls, leaving befuddled Taylor behind. Cavill's been implying uneasy behavior since getting out of the car, even as they step into the school building. Irritated by assumptions, she rolls her eyes in resignation before finally climbing up the stairs.

In a panicked whisper, he mutters to himself, 'Class—she's in class.. Bio. Bio today.' Frantically looking around, he finally spots you at the end of the hallway as you're about to enter the classroom! He runs at full speed, and just as you're about to step into the room—he grabs your forearm, bringing you to a halt.

You turn to find him in ragged breathing, sweat trickling down his face. Unsettling expressions paint your face as you put your left hand behind your neck, clearly feeling uncomfortable. But as he supports his hands on his knees, you cautiously ask,

"Hey. Uh.. what's wrong—"

"You made me run all this way—and you're asking me what's wrong?!"

He vents his frustration, clearly exhausted as you let out a small sigh in response. "Just—let me catch my breath for a second," he adds, making a stopping gesture with his hand. After taking a deep breath and exhales, he looks at you, ready for an explanation. "Ok, tell me what's wrong," he pants, eyes narrowed, waiting for your response.

Clutching the straps of your backpack tightly, you divert your gaze to his feet. Also anxiously adjusting the straps of his backpack on his shoulders, he observes your sullen look with concern. After a brief hesitation, he sees you take a deep breath and exhale..

"I think you're right."

Tilting his head, he wonders in confusion and asks, "In.. what?"

"You don't have to pick me up anymore, bro. It's okay,"

Puzzled by your decision, he goes to scratch his head, briefly retracting it like a turtle. His gaze shifts slightly to the left before returning to you. Perplexed, he insists, "Why? I'm ok with that, It doesn't burden me to pick you and Taylor up,"

Heaving a big sigh, you struggle in trying to make him understand your perspective. So you run in circles, not wanting to reveal the truth as you affirm in different angles, "Really, it's ok. Taylor would've appreciate the privacy—"

"Ok listen—yes, she asked me to take her to school—and yes—ok I admit I just took the initiative so there'll be just the two of us—" he confesses, a hint of guilt in his voice. You're about to open your mouth, but he draws a hand before continuing his speech, "But I just realized that we became distant instead—we don't have time to hangout anymore," he kept explaining.

And then there's you.. engulfed in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Emotions piling up, you struggle to make him understand the most important part:

You just. really. don't want to go to school and back home as a trio.

"So Em, I think we should—"

"No. You don't have to force it—"

"Em—no listen—"

"I'm okay. I can find another ride—"

"Listen. I know what I said, but like you said—"

"You don't understand Ty—"

"We always go to school together, right? Before and after school is our time—"

"WELL NOT ANYMORE!"

Exploding with the piling emotions that have suffocated your chest, you yell, causing his mouth to snap shut. Panting as if you've just completed a marathon, you shoot him a piercing glare. His face contorts with a blend of shock and concern as he stands there in silence, taken aback by your sudden outburst. Seizing his momentary shock, you continue with a touch of sarcasm,

"We're growing up, right? Well, I do grown up stuff too now, I go to school by myself."

Catching the undertone of your sarcasm, he lets out a slight scoff. The two of you exchange guarded glances, silence hangs heavy after your verdict. Now.. each word he had spoken over these past few weeks echoes in your mind.. and all the strange feelings you're experiencing..

It's too much.

It's. just. too much.

And in that moment of reflection, a realization dawns. A recognition that.. this? This is the right choice. Wanting to put an end to.. everything, your glare turns stone-cold, accepting. Numbing yourself to every feeling, you steel yourself, before finally putting out the finality out of your mouth,

"If this is the time where we must grow apart too, then so be it."

...

The silence following your statement hangs heavily in the air as he struggles to process your words. His brows knit together, jaws clenched. The realization that his words have come back to haunt him adds more layer of anguish as he mutters,

"What did you say?"

It hurts. Because you can see his expression clearly from this distance. He's hurt. And when people hurt.. they tend to seek anything just so they can hurt as much as they are hurt—

"Is this about the bet? Are you jealous I still got a girlfriend first even after we stroke off the Rule?!"

Jackpot. To point out that fact.. the fact that you might not be lucky enough. The fact that you might not be attractive enough. Not like him. Not like his girlfriend.

Not like The King and Queen of River High.

Not only he had the upper hand at toying with your feelings, now he just had to make you feel insecure. You feel tears start to well up in your eyes. Yet you hold them back, your chin subtly trembling. Instead, you shoot him an icy glare and hiss,

"Fuck you."

Surprised by the amount of hatred in your voice, he recoils. As you turn to leave him in haste, he grabs your arm, calling your name in plea, "Em—I don't want to fight. You know the rule—"

"Fuck the rule! Let me go!"

"What's going on here?"

Just as the tension reaches its peak, a teacher arrives. Both of you wear flustered expressions, caught off guard by the interruption. As you look around, you realize there's already a scattered crowd forming around you, watching the scene with eagle eyes. Taking the opportunity to escape the situation, you quickly responds,

"Sorry miss—nothing. We're about to get to class."

With an apologetic smile towards the teacher, you dart your glossy eyes to Tyler, and narrow them as you mouth the word 'please'. Cornered by the presence of the teacher and sensing there's no other option—not moving his sad eyes from you, in resignation, he releases your arm slowly. Casting a final glance back at him, a tear falls down your left cheek. Quickly wiping it away, you turn and briskly walk to the door,

and close it behind you.

"How about a party this weekend, huh? At my house."

Dominic bounces his eyebrows to Liam. The guy is about to respond, but his words are cut off by the sound of brisk heavy walking. And as they turn their heads—they find their bro, entering their classroom. Wyatt and Hunt enthusiastically greet him from their seats as they shout, "Heyyya my maaan—"

Only to be replied with his wrath of Hades. He slams his bag beside the chair, creating a screeching sound that echoes through the room. They watch as he lets out a sharp tsk before sucking air through his teeth in irritation, struggling in pulling his chair, making a commotion—until he finally sits down, still ignoring them.

"Woah, somebody just woke up on the wrong side of the bed."

Maintaining a great distance, Liam hangs both hands in the air with his big round eyes pointed at Tyler, worried he might explode at any time. Dominic, always being the curious unbothered one, gets up from his seat and leans forward, tilting his body to the side to get a closer look at his bro before finally blurting out,

"What's this? Trouble in paradise?"

"With which one though?" as if asking for a death wish, Wyatt chimes in without thinking, as per usual.

"I just—please don't talk to me."

Agitated by their disrupting commotion, Tyler finally responds. He buries his face behind his hands, to immediately run them through his jet black hair. Then he supports his lips with his left hand, making a distorted tilt to his mouth, overwhelmed with everything that just happened.

Letting out a big sigh, Wyatt pats him on the back and mutters under his breath, already knowing the answer,

"This one's definitely with Emily."

Amidst the crowd, your eyes scan the room, taking in the lively scene. Laughter erupts from a group on the dance floor while others clinking glasses in a toast.. but then..

You see him.

As the gazes lock between you two, a moment of awkwardness fills the air, prompting both of you to quickly avert your eyes. His girlfriend affectionately encircles her arms around him, joyfully declares her 'I love you'. Rolling your eyes, you watch him turn to her as he replies with the same words hesitantly. You give Eve—who's been beside you the whole time—a side glance, conveying a silent message of, 'see that shit?' to have Eve let out a chuckle, before guiding you away from the scene.

"Evie, look at your boyfriend~ One more second—if he sees your clutch still in my arms—he'll go #vanishmefromthisworld mode on me," you nudge in his direction, showing her what you meant. Eve has been an astounding bestie, but you can't help but feel sorry for her—considering her boyfriend has been patiently waiting for her the whole time.

Concern evident on her face, Eve tilts her head towards you, making sure if you're genuinely okay being left alone. "You sure, Em?" she asks as you nod firmly and give her a reassuring smile. After a moment of observing, she hugs you before you finally head off. On your way, you spot Wyatt's face light up and you giggle in response, reciprocating his nod.

Eager to escape this crowded scene, you scurry away to the pool outside. Found a quiet corner by the pool, you take a seat—before dangling your feet on the water. Sighing deeply as you grip the edges of the pool, you ponder.

So.. yeah. After spending days full of mourning in my room and constant closed curtains, Eve insisted on dragging me away from the cave.. to this party. Imagine my laziness—knowing you'll definitely find The Social Butterfly here. But Eve said I should go out. Remember the bet, she said. Do it for yourself too, she said. And since I'm such a trusting bestie—aside from the fact that she threatened to tell my parents about my fight with you-know-who if I don't go to this party—I complied with what she said. What's wrong with your parents knowing, you say? Oh trust me, you don't want to know—

"Need a drink?"

When a red cup suddenly jerked in front of you, momentarily ruining the beautiful view. A strange sense of déjà vu begins to take hold. Wondering who might be interrupting your moment of contemplation, reluctantly, you lift your gaze to see..

Hunt, offering you a drink.

Again.

Crouching down before you, he holds a red cup in each hand. You watch his tousled blonde hair give in to gravity, glinting in the moonlight. His blue eyes are as captivating as the dancing water reflecting the pool's floor. Raising an eyebrow in question, he maintains an unreadable expression.

Damn, his face this close—pardon my earlier statement—the view's not ruined after all, ladies and gents. But.. The Dominic Hunt? River High's most charming playboy, intentionally talking to me? That's a first.

Overwhelmed by his good looks, you let out a sheepish side smile and tilt your head, about to accept the red cup—but then a memory from the last party resurges to your mind. In a nervous traumatized laugh, you end up declining him, "Uh.. no, but.. thanks!"

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion before darting his gaze to the side, recalling the incident.. when he unintentionally got you drunk. Sudden realization crosses his face, and he lets out a chuckle.

"Hey, don't worry. This one's pure Red Fanta, your favorite? I've got my own drink right here," he assures, raising his other hand that's been holding the other red cup. Beholding your hesitant puppy eyes looking up at him, he blinks slowly and nods in patience, gesturing to an empty seat next to you, casually asking whether it's taken—even though he already knows it's definitely.. not.

"Oh! Yeah, sure!" you cheer. With your approval, he sits beside you. Not too close, not too far, just an enough amount of distance for making your heart a liiiittle bit flutter.

He asks you to smell the contents of the two cups to differentiate. As he hands you the Fanta, you obey by taking a whiff out of the red liquid as he questions, "Smell the difference?"

As you inhale the aroma from the other cup, you crinkle your nose in acknowledgment and exclaim, "Ooh damn, that one's strong," when a realization hits you—

"Did I drink this one back then?!"

Finally letting out his first laughter of the night, he clarifies, "Nah, this one's stronger," however, his amusement transforms into a hint of awkwardness as he apologizes, "and.. sorry for giving you the drink back then. Thought you're in need of a drink at the moment—I even forgot that it's my drink, you feel me?"

Giggling in acknowledgement, you shrug and say, "Ending up with me emptying it all at once anyway. It's fine! I needed it," and you take the Fanta from his hand, "thanks, Dom." You take a sip, but somehow, the topic triggers a sudden memory of the dare—and you shake it off, figuratively and literally, catching Dom's attention. Being the woke guy that he is, he redirects the conversation.

"So.. how's the party?"

His tone casual, yet.. with a glint of curiosity in his eyes. As he awaits your answer, he takes a sip from his red cup, the other hand casually slouched to the back, supporting his relaxed posture.

"Hmm.. yeah, pretty good," you reply casually while taking a sip from your Red Fanta. Somehow, as if detecting your fakeness, he turns his crystal blue eyes to you, carefully observing.

"But you don't seem like you're enjoying it?" he remarks while shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

Dominic Hunt, always straight to the point.

At his remark, you raise an eyebrow as your face contorts in cringe. Feeling the need to be honest in front of him, you purse your lips and close your eyes, before turning to him, preparing to let the cat out of the bag.

"Ok truth is—this party sucks!" you blurt out, surprised at your own candor. It takes a moment to register that you just confessed this embarrassing thought to..

The host himself.

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Cecylia Costania @rcpcs.writes

You can elevate your experience by also listening to songs I added to this story's playlist! Full Playlist on bio💖

The song that matches this Chapter's vibe:

https://youtu.be/nOa3hrRD9mk