A VIRUS FOR VENGEANCE

Chap 2🥀

OLIVIA'S POV:

I woke up to the sound of my phone buzzing incessantly on my nightstand. The screen lit up with dozens of notifications—class group chat, as usual. Without even looking, I knew they were talking about something school-related, probably the upcoming event or some new assignment. I never bothered to read them. Why should I? It’s not like any of it mattered to me. Important or not, I just didn’t care.

Stretching lazily, I slid out of bed, glancing around my room. It was a mess, as always. Clothes scattered on the floor, books and papers in disarray, but that didn’t bother me either. Cleaning was part of the routine. I sighed and started to tidy up, throwing clothes into a pile and shoving the rest of the junk into drawers. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough.

Once I was done, I stepped out of my room, still wearing my pajamas—an old, faded shirt and a pair of loose shorts. As soon as I entered the living room, my mother, already dressed in her work uniform, greeted me with a warm smile. She looked tired, but she always found time to hug me before rushing out the door.

“Morning, Liv,” she said, pulling me into a quick embrace. “I left some food for you on the table.”

She handed me a small stack of bills and a key to the house. “There’s money in case you need anything, and don’t forget the house chores I mentioned. There’s fried rice, bacon, eggs, and cheese for breakfast.”

I nodded, letting out a small sigh but managing a smile. My mom always worried about me, even when she barely had enough time for herself. “Thanks, Mom,” I mumbled.

She kissed my forehead, clearly in a rush. “I’m running late. Love you, Liv. Have a good day at school.”

“Love you too,” I replied softly, watching as she grabbed her bag and hurried out the door.

Once the house was quiet again, I wandered over to the kitchen table and sat down, staring at the plate of food in front of me. Fried rice, bacon, eggs, and cheese—it smelled delicious, but I wasn’t in any hurry. Glancing at the clock, I realized I was almost late for school, but I shrugged.

What else was new? I took my time eating, savoring each bite. If being late meant avoiding a few more minutes of school, then why rush?

After a while, I finished my breakfast and took a long, hot shower. Once I was out, I threw on an oversized brown shirt and a pair of brown trousers. The shirt was tucked loosely into my pants, and I grabbed a hoodie to throw on top. I tied my hair up into a messy bun without much thought. I didn’t care about looking presentable, but I had no idea how unintentionally attractive the whole look was. It wasn’t like I paid attention to that kind of thing.

Before heading out, I grabbed my bag and called out a quick goodbye to our dog, Casper, who barked lazily from his spot near the door. “Later, Casper,” I mumbled, closing the door behind me.

I walked to school every day, even though it was far. Most kids took the bus or got rides from their parents, but I preferred the quiet time. The walk gave me a chance to clear my head, not that I had much to think about these days. The same routine, the same boring life.

By the time I arrived at school, I was already thirty minutes late. Mrs. Rodrigo, our Mathematics teacher, was waiting for me at the door, arms crossed, her eyes narrowed. She didn’t even bother with a greeting.

“Miss Clark, this is the third time this week you’ve been late,” she snapped, her voice sharp. “You can’t keep doing this.”

I stifled a yawn, rolling my eyes as I walked past her. “Yeah, yeah,” I muttered. “Won’t happen again.”