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🚌 On the Road to Revenge
​The air on the pavement was thick with late-morning heat, but the inside of the luxury Tour Bus One was a sanctuary of cool air and anticipation. This wasn't just any school trip; it was the annual senior getaway, a perfect blend of freedom and fresh air—and for Gabriella, the perfect stage.
​​She looked every bit the picture of effortless, cool confidence. Her simple, yet elegant, outfit—a pair of high-waisted dark denim shorts and a crisp white crop top—was perfectly balanced by classic white sneakers. The look said, "I'm not trying, but I win." She wore large, mirrored aviator sunglasses, a protective barrier against the world and the piercing stares she knew she'd receive.
​Stepping onto the bus, she navigated the narrow aisle like a runway model. The bus itself was a typical long-distance coach—vinyl seats, dusty windows, and the promise of endless hours. She planned to melt into the anonymity of a window seat in the middle section.
​Just as she was about to slide in, a sudden, firm grip closed around her wrist.
​"Going somewhere, princess?"
​Gabriella was pulled, not roughly, but with an unmistakable authority, into the second row. She landed with a sharp intake of breath next to the window.
​She ripped off her sunglasses, her eyes—a striking, cold shade of grey—widening in surprise and immediate fury.
​Beside her, a tall figure was already leaned back comfortably. He was wearing an expensive, casual ensemble: black slim-fit jeans, a designer hoodie, and a bright white baseball cap pulled low, obscuring his features. His demeanor was a silent challenge.
​"Why did you pull me?" she asked, her voice low and laced with venom. " I don't want to sit here."
​He tilted his head slightly, a subtle smirk playing on his lips that she could somehow feel even before she saw it.
​"Because I want you to sit next to me," he replied, his voice a deep, lazy drawl that always sent a shiver down her spine—part fear, part something else she refused to name.
​Then, with a casual, theatrical flourish, he lifted his hand and pushed the white cap back.
​It was Jake.
​Gabriella's heart gave a single, violent thump, a reaction she instantly suppressed. The shock was there, but it vanished, replaced by the glacial mask she wore every day.
​Jake leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear. "Is that wrong if I sit with my girlfriend?" he whispered, the word "girlfriend" a playful taunt.
​She pushed back against the seat, creating distance. "But I don't want to sit next to you," she stated, her tone cutting and final. She made to stand up again.
​His hand shot out, not to grab her, but to rest on the seat edge, blocking her exit. "Are you afraid to sit next with me, Gabriella?"
​She met his challenging gaze, her jaw tight. Afraid? Never.
​She slumped back into the seat. "I'm not."
​Jake smiled, the full, devastating grin that had once made her weak. He leaned in again, his eyes darkening as they traced the outline of her mouth. "Or... are you afraid that I would do something else?" He slowly, deliberately, let his fingers brush the back of her hand, an intimate, electric touch.
​"Are you out of your mind?" she spat, shoving his hand away. He just chuckled, a deep, unsettling sound.
​She desperately needed information. She turned to the boy sitting across the aisle, a enthusiastic first-year classmate. "Why are the seniors traveling in our bus?"
​The boy, who had been openly staring at Jake,he understood the assignment and managed a shaky smile. "Oh. Because his bus—the usual senior one—is already full, so they split them up. Jake always gets what he wants."
​Gabriella leaned back, sinking into the cold vinyl, dismissing the boy who quickly retreated.
​She turned to Jake, her eyes burning with an old, painful memory. "Are you forgetting what happened yesterday?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper, yet holding the weight of a scream. "I clearly said everything. But still, you're calling me 'girlfriend'?"
​The playful smirk vanished from Jake's face. He reached out and gently, yet firmly, turned her face towards him. She gasped at the unexpected touch.
​His eyes held hers, a deep, unsettling brown. "Look, Gabriella," he said, his voice dropping all pretense of playfulness. "It's not my fault. You can't stay away from me because of my father."
​The air went out of Gabriella's lungs. Her eyes softened instantly, the icy wall cracking. The mention of his father—the reason she had to be close to Jake—was her absolute weakness, her deepest motive.
​He saw the shift, the fleeting emotion, and pressed his advantage. "You don't know this about me," he continued, his gaze intense. "If I like something, I'm desperate to have it. I will have it."
​The vulnerability on Gabriella's face hardened instantly back into cold stone. She wrenched free from his grip. "I'm not a thing that you can have when you want it," she stated, leaning away and pressing her head against the window.
​"I didn't mean that," he insisted, but she didn't reply.
​She opened her bag, pulled out white AirPods, and shoved them into her ears, the action a clear dismissal.
​Echoes of the Past
​Meanwhile, on the Second Tourist Bus, a different drama was unfolding.
​Selina suddenly clamped a hand over her mouth, her face pale. She was immediately overwhelmed by a wave of nausea.
​"What happened?" her best friend, Raina, asked.
​Selina could only signal desperately for a cover. A hand, strong and familiar, slipped a thick, branded paper bag over the back of the seat.
​Selina looked up and her eyes locked on Han, her ex-lover, who was standing beside their seat. Their breakup was still raw, a festering wound.
​Raina snatched the bag. "Thanks," she said coldly to Han, her eyes narrowed.
​Selina took the bag from Raina, her eyes still locked on Han's retreating back as she leaned forward and quietly vomited. When she slumped back, drained and exhausted, Han was still there. He handed a small, sealed bottle of water to another girl and silently instructed her to pass it to Selina.
​A few seconds later, Selina accepted the water. She whispered a quiet "Thanks" to the girl.
​She saw Han still looking back, a genuine concern clouding his usually cheerful face.
​"Why are you concerned about me?" Selina whispered to herself, too tired to care if he heard. "I'm not your girlfriend now, right?"
​Raina nudged her arm, pulling her back to the present. "What are you whispering?" she chuckled, glancing pointedly at Han. "It's about him, isn't it?"
​"No," Selina lied weakly.
​"I know him well," Raina said, softening. "Give him some time. He can't stay much longer without you." She winked, leaving Selina lost in thought.
​Raina's attention drifted down the bus aisle to where Ronnie was sitting with Lara. Ronnie, her best friend once but not now, was carefully peeling an orange for the delicate Lara.
​"Let's see how long that will go," Raina whispered knowingly, a touch of malice in her smile.
​"How did you manage to bring me in this bus?" Lara asked Ronnie while eating a segment. "I know this is for third-year students, right?"
​"How can I stay away from my girlfriend?" Ronnie said with a big laugh. "Ha! It was easy for me to convince them. Don't worry, eat."
​Lara, sweetly, offered a segment of the orange to his mouth. Ronnie's eyes widened in surprise, then he swallowed the fruit, a dopey, satisfied grin spreading across his face. Lara smiled back, content.
​ The Past Pain
​Back in the first bus, Gabriella's AirPods were blasting, but the music barely registered. She felt Jake's presence like a physical weight.
​The sun was high now, and a fierce beam of light cut through the window, blinding her. Whenever the sunlight landed squarely on her face, she'd instinctively shift, never opening her eyes, trying to find a patch of shade.
​Jake noticed.
​Slowly, silently, he raised his hand, placing it a few inches above her face, blocking the harsh sunlight.
​Gabriella felt the sudden, blessed relief of the shadow. She slightly opened her eyes to see what had happened, and her gaze landed on Jake's profile. He was looking out the window, his hand held steady above her, his focus seemingly elsewhere. The small, silent act of care melted a tiny, fragile piece of the ice around her heart.
​She quickly closed her eyes before he could notice.
​Seconds later, the bus shrieked. A sudden, violent Brake! sent everyone gasping and lurching forward.
​Gabriella's head snapped toward the seat in front of her. She was going to slam into the hard vinyl backrest.
​But she didn't.
​Jake's other hand shot out, placing his palm firmly between her forehead and the unforgiving seat.
​The impact jarred his arm, but she was safe.
​She opened her eyes, seeing his hand inches from her face. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice tight with concern. She instinctively reached out and grabbed his wrist to check his hand, ignoring the sudden rush of closeness. It seemed fine.
​When she raised her head, she found his eyes fixed on her. He was staring, lost in her, the smile back—but this time it wasn't playful or arrogant. It was soft, unguarded, and deeply vulnerable.
​Gabriella snapped her fingers in front of his face. He blinked, the moment shattered.
​"I haven't seen you care about other like that before," he said, his voice husky.
​Her eyes, which had softened again for a fleeting moment, instantly turned to an icy grey. "Because you only saw me as Gabriella," she whispered, the words heavy with a pain that went deeper than anger. "Not before... that."
​She leaned forward, her eyes locking onto his.
​"You don't know anything about Andria."
​Jake's smile evaporated. The air turned cold. He stared at her, and she stared back. The raw, deep pain behind her words was an emotion so profound it hurt to breathe. Her cold persona was a wall built long ago, brick by brick, mostly by Jake's friends—especially Raina.
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To be Continued.....
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