My first crush (COMPLETED)√

Chapter 35: playing along

They were whispering.

Their voices were low, careful—like they didn't want the walls to hear them, let alone me. I strained my ears, pretending to be asleep, but all I caught were fragments. Half-sentences. Pauses. The kind of whispers that carried secrets.

Whatever they were planning, it wasn't harmless.

My chest tightened.
Stephen was always hiding something. Always.

What are you planning this time?

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Stiles hissed. His hands nearly covered his face, frustration written all over his posture. "You're forgetting your part."

My heart skipped.

Your part?

That confirmed it. There was a plan—and Stephen was in the middle of it.

I lay there, eyes shut, breath steady, pretending to be lost in sleep. But inside, my mind was racing.

I don't care what it takes, I told myself. I'm going to find out.

⸻

The Next Morning

Warm sunlight brushed against my face, pulling me gently from sleep. I blinked my eyes open, still drowsy, and turned to the other side of the bed.

Stephen was there—wide awake.

Watching me.

Not casually. Not distracted. He was studying me, like I was something fragile he was afraid to touch.

My brows furrowed slightly.
How long has he been awake?

"Here," he said softly, holding out a cup. "Have some tea."

I pushed myself up, wrapping the sheets around me.
"Babe, you really need to stop waking up before me."

He smiled, that familiar, charming smile that always made it hard to stay suspicious.
"I know I have a lazy girlfriend. I don't mind."

"I'm not lazy," I protested, smiling despite myself.
Okay—maybe a little. Just a little.

But the thought from last night came rushing back.

The plan.

My smile faded.

I took a deep breath and set the cup aside.

"Stephen... we need to talk."

His expression shifted instantly.
"About what?" he asked, curious—but cautious.

Good. He was already on edge.

I inhaled slowly, steadying my voice.

"How could you?" I said quietly. "How could you do that to me?"

His face drained of color.
"What did I do?!" Panic flickered across his eyes.

Got you.

"Oh, so now you're acting clueless?" I pressed, my heart pounding hard against my ribs. "How could you make plans behind my back, Stephen? How could you lie to me?"

His shoulders slumped.

"Oh my God... you knew?" he breathed. "Sharon, I'm sorry."

Sorry?

"Sorry?" I echoed. "Why are you sorry?"
I could feel my acting slipping—but I pushed through.

"The plan," he said quickly. "You knew about the plan all along and you—"

"Yeah," I interrupted, nerves tightening my throat. "The plan. I... know."

He blinked.
"Wait—you know?"

"Of course I know," I said too fast. "Pfft. Obviously."

Silence.

He studied my face, searching for cracks.

"What... exactly do you think the plan was about?" he asked carefully.

My stomach dropped.

I crossed my arms, masking my panic with anger.
"Why are you even asking me that? You hurt me, Stephen—and now you're standing there pretending you don't know what you did?"

⸻

Stephen's POV

She's bluffing.

I watched her closely—the stiff shoulders, the forced confidence, the way her eyes darted just a little too much.

She was acting like she knew.

Damn it.

Girls really were dangerous when they wanted answers.

Fine. If she wanted to play this game, I'd play along.

Thank God she didn't know the real plan.