By Monday morning, Oakridge High no longer felt like a school.It felt like a courtroom where the verdict had already been decided.
Layla felt it the moment she stepped onto campus—the way conversations faltered and restarted in whispers, the way eyes tracked her movement with thinly veiled curiosity. Phones dipped and lifted again, recording nothing and everything all at once. The video had spread faster than the truth ever could.
Chloe stayed glued to her side, her shoulder brushing Layla's protectively as they moved through the hallway.
"Eyes forward," Chloe muttered. "Breathe and let them choke on their curiosity."
Layla tried. She really did but every teacher's gaze lingered a second too long, every smile felt sharpened by judgment. Even people she'd known for years looked at her differently now—as if she'd crossed an invisible line and couldn't step back. Visible eyes of mockery followed her till dismissal.
When the final bell echoed through Oakridge High. It echoed like a gunshot. For Layla, the hallways didn't feel like school—they once more like a courtroom as she walked through.She wanted to vanish into the floor, into the shadows, into anywhere but here but the memory of Elias's eyes on her last night—the slow, measured way he had claimed her presence—still lingered, a shadow in her chest she couldn't shake.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She froze before looking. One simple and chilling message popped up.
Meet me. Now.
Her pulse spiked as she saw the name.
She glanced at Chloe. "I… I need to leave," she murmured, the words hollow even to her own ears.
Chloe's hand tightened briefly over hers. "No. Don't."
"I can't stay here,not like this." Layla pulled her backpack tighter and walked away.
The streets outside hit her with a cold slap of air. She hugged her arms to her chest, boots crunching against the gravel as she walked faster, wishing she could escape not just the eyes, but the memory of him—the pull of someone she shouldn't want but couldn't stop thinking about.
And then Liam appeared,leaning casually against the corner of a side street, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, lips tugging into a smirk that didn't reach his eyes.
"You think you can just walk away?" he called, low and dangerous, stepping toward her.
Layla froze, heart hammering. "Liam… it's over," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Over?" he echoed, voice soft, almost hypnotic. "You cheated on me and you think it's over?"
Her chest tightened. Rage flared alongside fear. "You cheated first! Right in front of me!" Her voice grew sharper. "I saw it and it's over between us. I'm done."
He stepped closer, eyes narrowing, a dangerous edge cutting through every syllable. "Don't lie to me. Don't tell me you weren't thinking about me while you were there."
"I wasn't thinking about you, pervert," she shot back, stepping back instinctively. "I was done the second I saw you kissing her!"
Liam's hands shot out and grabbed her arm. She yelped, trying to pull free.
"Let go of me!" she shouted.
But he didn't instead he leaned closer, his weight pressing against hers.
"You can't just leave! You're mine—no one touches you, no one looks at you without me knowing. You think you can humiliate me and walk away?"
Her stomach churned. The panic, the adrenaline—it all surged together, sharp and cruel. She twisted in his grip, but he was too strong, pulling her back with a force that made her stumble against the wall.
"Liam—stop! Please!" she gasped, trying to wrench herself free.
He smirked, leaning in, his face a breath away from hers.
"You think you have a choice?"
And then—
A voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"Stay away from her."