My brothers best friend

Chapter 10: Jealous hearts

(Edited)

Chapter 10   

Valerie's Point of View

I wake up to the piercing sound of my alarm clock, a jarring reminder that Monday has arrived and classes await. For a moment, I lie there, unmoving, my face buried in the soft warmth of my pillow. The faintest trace of a familiar scent lingers—a mix of pine and something distinctly Jake.

I've washed the sheets since the last time he slept here, but no detergent can quite erase the memory of his presence. It's unsettling how something as small as a lingering scent can hold so much power, how it can pull me back to that morning when everything felt so raw and unspoken.

Shaking off the thought, I sit up and stretch, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from my eyes. The past week has been anything but ordinary. I haven't stepped foot into a party, the thought of loud music and flashing lights too exhausting to bear. Instead, I've filled my days with quiet distractions—binge-watching KC Undercover (Zendaya is seriously underrated) and working out at the gym, trying to find some semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos.

And then there's Nick.

Our date last Tuesday had been... nice. Actually, it had been more than nice—it was fun, easy, and exactly what I needed. He made me laugh in a way I hadn't in a long time, and when he kissed me at the end of the night, I didn't pull away. I kissed him back, and for a moment, it felt uncomplicated, like maybe happiness didn't have to come with strings attached. Since then, we've texted here and there, but we haven't seen each other again. Part of me wonders if he's waiting for me to make the next move, but another part—the one I don't like to acknowledge—feels relieved at the distance.

Jacob, on the other hand, has been a constant. We've grown close in such a short time, his humor and warmth pulling me out of my head whenever I start overthinking. On Friday, he dragged me to a boutique downtown, insisting I needed a "shopping intervention." He made me laugh so hard I cried, right in the middle of the store. He's the kind of friend who feels like sunlight, bright and impossible to ignore.

After scrolling through my phone for a few minutes—a meme from Jacob at 3 AM and a voice note from Viktoria ranting about her professor—I finally get out of bed. I rummage through my closet, settling on something simple but chic: low-waisted blue jeans, a fitted white t-shirt, and sneakers. I add small silver hoops and a bracelet for a touch of sparkle, giving myself a quick once-over in the mirror. Not bad.

With my bag slung over my shoulder, I head out, ready to face the day—or at least pretending I am.

Art history is my first class, and as I walk into the lecture hall, a wave of unease washes over me. The room is already buzzing with conversation, and I can feel the weight of people's eyes on me the moment I step inside.

"Is that Valerie Prescott?" I hear someone whisper, their voice not quite as discreet as they think.

"She's even prettier in person," another voice murmurs.

I keep my head down, pretending not to notice the way heads turn and conversations pause as I make my way to an empty seat near the back. My heart pounds in my chest, and I focus on keeping my breathing steady, willing myself not to let the stares get to me.

Just as I'm about to sit down, Jacob waves me over, his grin wide and welcoming. Relief floods through me as I cross the room to join him, his presence like a shield against the judgmental glances around us.

"Val, over here!" he calls, patting the seat next to him.

I slide into the chair, offering him a grateful smile. "Thanks."