Brutal Bonding

Chapter 2: Silent Prayer

Wren sat alone at a desk in the quiet classroom, her head bowed and hands clasped together in prayer. Oblivious to her surroundings, she closed her eyes. Her lips moved silently as she poured her heart out to the divine:

'Mom,

You are the kindest, purest, and most selfless person I know. The fact that you were once a dedicated member to a sorority whose idea of sisterhood involves crushing dreams with a side of snarky remarks is beyond me.

I longed to join the Sisters of Stygian, seeking your legacy through the path you once walked. But now those hopes lie shattered. It pains me, Mother, to admit that I have fumbled my way through the recruitment process. The mere thought of ruining my chances to enter the very sorority that once held your allegiance weighs heavy on my heart. I carry the weight of failure, burdened by the thought of disappointing us both.

In this moment of discontent, I beg you, Mother, to lend your wisdom. Guide me through this mess, for I do not know where to go from here. Help me find strength to overcome this setback. And for the love of all things Holy, please don't let today's first day of class be anything like my previous encounter with the Bitches of Stygian.

Sorry, am I allowed to cuss during a prayer? Is God listening in the room with us right now?'

Suddenly, a tap on her shoulder jolted Wren from her reverie. Startled, she opened her eyes to find a handsome stranger sitting at the desk beside her. He had golden brown hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a smile that could make hearts skip a beat. A soft smile played upon his lips, revealing a captivating dimple that accentuated his charm even further. Wren couldn't deny the blushing effect he had on her, but she quickly tried to hide it.

With a dazzling grin, the intruder leaned casually against his desk. "Hey there, beautiful. Hate to break it to you, but talking to yourself in public makes you look a little odd."

"If I seem odd, then perhaps you should refrain from talking to me."

The young man raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her response. "Oh, so you think I'm odd too, huh? I guess that makes us a perfect match."

She rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Hardly a match made in heaven. You are not my type."

The cheeky prowler leaned in further, his eyes locked onto hers. "You'd be surprised, gorgeous. Having a type doesn't mean a thing if you cannot find someone who truly sees you. And I see you."

"You don't even know me," she scoffed. "What could you possibly see?"

His eyes wandered to the printed schedule on her desk. "I see that your name is Wren Brennan, you are a sophomore taking senior-level classes, including this one, and..." His eyes lifted to scan the schoolgirl's face. "I see you're the type of girl who is absolutely gorgeous but claims yourself as average. You're the type of girl whose very existence torments all the other girls who lack self-esteem."

"I suppose that makes you the type of insufferable guy who believes you know everything. You are so self-absorbed that you're convinced that the world wants to hear your every last unoriginal thought," Wren retorted.

He chuckled. "Damn right."

He didn't even have the courtesy to pretend he was offended. There was an aura of self-assurance about him, as if he truly understood his own identity and couldn't be bothered by the opinions of others, including Wren's. It was a quality she couldn't help but envy.

"Wren Brennan, sophomore. I'm Warner Hartfelt, senior," he said, offering his hand.

Revelation dawned onto Wren that she was face-to-face with the golden boy of Beverington University. She had frequently heard the praise of the swim captain who often led the school's team to victory. However, she had never seen him up-close until now.

Reluctantly, she slipped her hand into his. His touch enveloped her with a surprising warmth, and the firmness of his grip ignited a thrilling sense of anticipation. Their eyes locked, and as his smile gradually widened, a question lingered: Did he share the same electrifying connection, or was he aware of the emotions coursing through her veins?

"Nice to meet you, Warner."

"The pleasure is all mine, birdie."

Wren froze mid-handshake at the sound of the familiar nickname. Before she could question it further, the sound of bustling footsteps echoed through the classroom. Her heart dropped when she caught sight of a group of girls. It didn't take long to recognize them as the breathtaking leaders who had ruthlessly rejected her from their sisterhood, a wound that still stung.

Warner waved his arms and called out to them. "Ladies, over here! We saved you some seats."

As the girls floated closer, Wren's instincts rang warning bells in her mind. She couldn't shake the sinking feeling that this encounter might not end well. But as Warner greeted the group with a warm smile and open arms, she watched in astonishment as their faces softened. The tension melted away, replaced by genuine smiles and friendly exchanges.

Warner basked in the embrace of the beautiful girls. Mina and Ariana engulfed him in a hug. Kim squeezed his shoulder. Noemy went as far as to sit on his lap and plant a possessive kiss on his cheek.

'Of course, they know each other,' Wren thought. 'Just my freaking luck.'

All attention was on him, and no one bothered to spare a glance toward her direction. Warner cleared his throat, "Ladies, I'm sure you know Wren Brennan," he introduced unnecessarily.

The ladies turned as if just now noticing her presence. Their previous warmth hardened at the sight.

"Hi, Wren," Mina greeted meekly.

"Hey, lesbo," Ariana smirked.

Kim followed with a bored tone. "Hello, birdie."

Wren felt almost relieved when Noemy remained silent. She was certain the president was capable of saying something much worse.

Warner, ever the congenial host, sensed the tension and pointed behind him. "Hey, Wren, let me introduce you to my brother, Aaron Hartfelt. He's a man of few words, but I think you two might get along."

Wren turned to face Aaron, who sat behind Warner. He was on the skinnier side, with an attractive face with chiseled features, dark hair, and even darker eyes that were seemingly disinterested. Wren offered a polite greeting, but his response was curt, leaving her feeling uncertain. It was evident that Aaron was quite different from his charming brother. His lack of engagement mirrored his reserved nature, leaving Wren feeling even more out of place.

As the awkwardness lingered, she couldn't help but wonder why fate had brought her into this challenging situation. In the face of rejection and indifference, she would need to summon her strength and resilience. But doing that would be easier said than done, because let's face it, Wren was an outsider who longed to belong.
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Author's note
What do you think of the Hartfelt brothers? That reminds me, dear reader, did you read the prologue? Hint, hint...

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