Just a Normal Day"Shit, shit," I muttered under my breath, my footsteps echoing down the empty corridor as I darted toward the classroom. Heart pounding, I raised my fist and knocked, bracing myself. The door swung open, and there he stood—Mr. Luke, with that scrutinizing gaze.
"Ms. Malva," he began, voice cold as a November wind. "This is the fourth time this week. Care to explain?"
"I'm sorry, sir. Won't happen again, I swear," I said, forcing my voice steady. A chill settled over me. "May I come in?"
He studied me, a moment stretching into a small eternity. Finally, he nodded. "Take your seat."
I slid past him, practically diving into the chair next to Zoey, who had her lips pressed together in an attempt to hide her amusement. "What's so funny?" I whispered, catching her smirk.
"You are," she said, eyes glinting. "You know that."
"Yeah, I know," I muttered, rolling my eyes. But there was comfort in the exchange, a reminder that some things hadn't changed, despite how everything felt like it was slipping out of my control.
Mr. Luke's voice cut through the room, pulling us all to attention. "How about a surprise test?"
A collective groan rumbled across the class. One guy muttered, "This isn't fair, sir. Seriously."
But Mr. Luke just smirked, looking more satisfied than he had a right to be. "I spent the whole night putting this together, so you'll sit down, open your laptops, and solve it. Then you can go."
I clicked the link he provided, watching as the case unfolded on the screen—a dark tale of betrayal, secrets, and a girl who'd taken her own life. Or had she? She'd stolen millions from her company, transferring a portion to a close friend. But the company had caught on, reclaiming the money. Now the question loomed: Was it a suicide or murder? And where was the missing $5 million?
My mind raced, piecing together fragments of the story, twisting them into something that felt true. Murder. It had to be. The missing money? Cash, somewhere hidden.
I submitted my answer, my chest tight with the lingering chill of the case. As soon as the test ended, I left the classroom, heading to the cafeteria for a place to breathe. Pulling out my laptop, I hit play on a random video, letting it distract me from the thoughts stirring within.
Then, out of nowhere, a hand slammed onto the table. I jerked back, my heart leaping as I looked up, half-ready to throw a punch. "Daniel, what the hell! You nearly gave me a heart attack." I snapped, placing a hand on my chest.
He smirked, a slow, deliberate grin. "Oh, come on, Mal. It wasn't that bad, was it?"
I rolled my eyes, muttering, "Whatever." I crossed my arms, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing me rattled. "By the way, why are you still hanging around here? Aren't you done with classes?"
"I'm waiting for you to drive me home," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
I frowned. "Wait. What? Why me? Zoey and Zayn went off together, and I rode with Zayn, so no car. He said you'd be my ride."
"And no one thought to tell me this," I muttered, more to myself than him.
"Maybe because you were late this morning." He shrugged.
"Fine. Let's just go." I sighed, unwilling to argue further, and followed him to the parking lot.
He opened the passenger door for me, throwing me a smug look. "After you."
I slid in, refusing to look at him as he settled in beside me, the scent of his cologne wrapping around me, making the silence between us thick. My hands tightened on the wheel as I started the engine, but the quiet quickly grew tense, prickling at my skin.
"So... How's life?" I finally asked, breaking the silence, my voice coming out sharper than I intended.
He let out a huff, staring straight ahead. "Same as always. Nothing to report."
I tried again. "And your family? How's your aunt and uncle?"
"I didn't go home this weekend," he replied, his tone flat.
I raised an eyebrow, glancing at him. "Why?"
"You know "
"His words were clipped, as though admitting them out loud chipped away at something fragile inside him. For a moment, he was silent, and then, almost on impulse, I said, "You're doing great, Daniel. Don't overthink. We're all proud of you."
His gaze softened, a look of vulnerability flashing through his eyes as he turned to me. "Thanks, Mal. I needed that."
My heart clenched, and I tried to ignore the strange, heavy feeling between us. "No big deal," I managed, my voice casual. "Anyway, here we are."
He got out, pausing with one hand on the car window. "See you tomorrow, Mal," he murmured, a slow smile playing on his lips before he turned away, leaving me with a strange, unfamiliar ache as I watched him walk to his door. I muttered to myself, "Damn it, Daniel," and drove off, trying to shake off the way he lingered in my mind.
YOU ARE READING
To be her
RomanceShe's the girl everyone adores-sweet, polite, and effortlessly charming, a young woman in her twenties studying far from home. People trust her, drawn to her warmth and kindness, never suspecting the truth beneath her lovely exterior. She's mastered...