𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐎𝐒

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟕

𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍
LARS

She's too naive, too trusting, too breakable. My best friend's little sister, always staring at me with either those bright, wide eyes or that stubborn glare. Annoying as hell most days. But then there are times when she's not annoying—when she's just there, messing with my head without even trying. Marcella fucking Crist.

I walked into Math late, not caring who noticed. The teacher droned on at the front, but I had no use for him. I studied on my own, planned my future on my own—something no one here could teach me. My gaze swept the room, landing on Grayson slouched beside me, phone in hand.

"Where are they?" I muttered, referring to Alessio and Jaxon. Neither of them showed up, and I hadn't bothered texting since the chaos of the weekend.

"Didn't come," Grayson said flatly, his eyes still glued to his screen. "This weekend was hectic for them."

I snorted. "Did you see Avery's story? She's a wannabe."

"True," Grayson agreed with a faint smirk before his gaze drifted. I followed his line of sight and saw Stella sitting next to Marcella. Stella, as usual, looked like she'd bite someone if they got too close, but Marcella was focused, scribbling down notes.

Then there was Liliana.

She was seated a little away from them, her expression vacant, her posture tense. The usual fire she carried—even when annoyed with me—was gone. She wasn't taking notes, wasn't paying attention. Just staring out the window like her mind was miles away.

She doesn't belong in this world, I thought. She shouldn't have been there that night. It was obvious it had hit her harder than anyone else. Stella's been around enough fights to be numb to it. Marcella? She grew up with a brother like Jaxon; blood and violence are practically second nature to her.

"Miss Roseline," the teacher called out, clearing his throat. Liliana didn't even flinch, too lost in her own world. Stella, ever impatient, kicked the back of her chair, jolting her.

"Huh?" Liliana mumbled, snapping back to reality as her gaze darted to the teacher.

"Your report card," he said, handing it to her. "Apologies for the delay. I misplaced it." For a moment, she seemed calm, flipping it open. But then her face fell.

"I got an A-?! In Math?! That's impossible—I answered everything correctly!" she blurted, her voice rising with indignation. I leaned back, biting back a smirk. This was classic Liliana. She was the type to crumble if she got anything less than perfection, and we all knew it.

"That's good!" Stella tried to reassure her, flashing a bright smile. Marcella nodded in agreement, murmuring something encouraging. But Liliana was far from convinced. "I mean it's not perfect enough for my standards... but for yours." Stella added.

Stella was always a mean girl. Her friends got used to it.

"I give her less than a minute before she storms out to cry about it," Grayson said, his tone dry and almost bored, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"True," I muttered, watching the scene unfold.

The teacher sighed, clearly used to her antics. "Miss Roseline, you didn't show your work on the fourth equation. That's why."
Liliana shook her head stubbornly, gripping her report card like it had personally offended her. Most of the class didn't even bother watching. We were all so used to this. High standards, high drama—that was Liliana in a nutshell.

"She's totally going to storm out," Stella whispered, and I had to give it to her—she was spot on.

Liliana snapped her books shut, stuffed them into her bag, and stood. Without a word, she strode out of the room, her head held high, even if we all knew she was seconds away from a meltdown. "Sorry!" Stella and Marcella called after her, practically tripping over each other as they chased her out of the classroom.