Harriet slouched low in her seat, the classroom buzzing around her like a dull roar she couldn't quite tune out. The edges of her vision wavered, and her stomach twisted uncomfortably. She pressed a cool palm to her forehead, trying to will away the nausea, telling herself it was just the chicken she'd eaten for lunch—nothing more serious than a mild stomach upset. But deep down, she knew something else was off.
When the bell finally rang for break, Harriet gathered her things slowly and slipped out of the crowded classroom. The hallway was noisy and bright, but she sought refuge by the lockers, where Finola was already waiting, scrolling through her phone with a relaxed grin.
Harriet forced a small smile as she approached. "Fin, I need to tell you something. It's... kind of awkward."
Finola looked up, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "What's up girl? You look a bit off. Food poisoning?"
Harriet shook her head, her fingers twisting nervously around the strap of her bag. "No, it's not that. It's about Sebastian... you know, the guy my grandma introduced at the celebration party."
Finola nodded, brow raising. "Right, the posh one. What about him?"
Harriet's throat tightened, and she glanced around to make sure no one was listening. "We hooked up." she confessed, voice barely above a whisper. "After the party. It wasn't planned. I barely even know him. But now—he's blowing up my phone constantly, sending messages, calling, wanting to take me out all the time. It's... intense."
Finola blinked, clearly surprised. "Wait, hold on. Isn't that kind of a good thing? I mean, he's from a seriously wealthy family, right? Loads of connections, future all mapped out. Seems like the perfect catch to me."
Harriet's lips pressed into a thin line. "I'm not really interested." she said quietly, but with an edge. "I don't want that. I'm not some trophy or project. And his obsession? It freaks me out."
Finola smirked, leaning in with a teasing glint in her eye. "Come on, Harriet. You must be interested enough to, you know... spread your legs for him."
The words landed like a slap. Harriet's cheeks flamed with a mixture of shock and hurt. The playful tone in Finola's voice suddenly felt cruel and dismissive. She pulled back slightly, her jaw trembling.
"That's not funny, Finola." she said, her voice tight, trembling with more than just the afternoon tiredness.
Finola's smile faltered, but she shrugged off the tension, waving a hand as if to brush it aside. "I was joking, H."
But Harriet wasn't laughing. She looked away, blinking back a sudden rush of tears she hadn't expected. The carefree warmth that had always bubbled between them seemed to cool, replaced by a brittle silence stretching awkwardly in the noisy hallway.
For the first time, Harriet realized maybe things between them weren't as simple as she'd hoped. The joke had cracked something—an unspoken boundary she hadn't thought would be crossed. And as she stood there, hurt and shaken, she wondered if Finola really understood her at all.
As the final bell reverberated through the corridors like a long-awaited release. Harriet hoisted her rucksack over one shoulder, her limbs heavy and her thoughts still tangled from the day's awkward moments. The hallways buzzed with laughter and shouts of relief, but she barely noticed. She just wanted to escape the confines of school and breathe.
Stepping outside, the sharp afternoon light caught her off guard. There, leaning casually against the low stone wall just beyond the school gates, stood Sebastian. His sandy hair was tousled perfectly, his blazer neat and expensive-looking. He was the picture of effortless confidence, his hands tucked into his pockets as he watched her approach with an unreadable smile.
Harriet's stomach churned. She stopped a few feet away, forcing herself to keep her voice steady. "Sebastian. What are you doing here? How do you even know this is my school?"
He glanced sideways, then subtly nodded toward the sleek black car parked a short distance away. Inside, their grandmother sat behind the wheel, sunglasses shielding her eyes, waving enthusiastically as if this were the most natural thing in the world.
"Your grandmother told me." Sebastian said smoothly, his voice calm but with an edge of entitlement. "And she's been eager to get us both out of here. She invited me to take you to dinner. She wants to talk to you."
Harriet's chest tightened. The weight of it pressed down harder than she expected—being paraded like some kind of prize. Her cheeks flushed with heat—not just from embarrassment, but frustration that her grandmother was so blind to how suffocating this all felt.
"I don't want to go." she said, biting back the surge of helplessness rising inside her. "I've got cheer practice soon.."
Sebastian's smile didn't waver, but in his eyes she caught something colder—a flicker of impatience, like she was merely an accessory to a plan she'd never agreed to.
"Come on, Harriet." he coaxed, stepping closer, his tone smooth and practiced. "It'll be fun. She's made all the arrangements. You can't exactly say no."
The evening unfolded beneath the soft glow of crystal chandeliers, casting a warm, golden light over the polished mahogany table. The restaurant hummed quietly with the murmur of other diners, but at their corner table, an air of careful formality lingered. Harriet sat stiffly between Cece and Sebastian, feeling the tension coil tighter with every passing moment. The delicate clink of cutlery against fine china and the gentle pop of wine corks created a soundtrack she struggled to follow.
Cece, radiant in a sleek black dress, lifted her glass of deep red wine, the ruby hue catching the light. With a practiced smile, she extended her left hand across the table, revealing a vintage diamond ring that sparkled like a tiny constellation.
"See this?" Cece said, her voice smooth and deliberate. "This ring has been in our family for generations. It's a symbol—of commitment, of legacy, of everything we stand for." Her gaze shifted to Harriet, warm but intense. "Soon, this will be yours."
Harriet's breath caught. The sparkle of the diamond suddenly felt heavy, laden with expectations she wasn't sure she wanted to bear. Cece continued without missing a beat, her tone softening as if sharing a secret.
"I've been waiting for the right man to give this to Harriet—to propose to her. The right man who will carry on our family's name and values."
Panic surged through Harriet's chest. She glanced sharply at Sebastian, heart hammering. Was Cece implying him? Was this a proposal in waiting? Her fingers curled tightly around the edge of the table as her mind raced ahead, trapped between shock and disbelief.
But Cece waved away the tension lightly, with a dismissive laugh. "Not tonight, of course. Maybe when she's at university."
Sebastian smiled approvingly, his eyes flicking to Harriet with a hint of expectation that made her skin crawl.
Trying to steady herself, Harriet forced a tight smile, but inside the room tilted and blurred. She wasn't ready—not for marriage, not for babies, not for a legacy passed down like a torch she had never exactly asked to carry. The neat, polished future everyone around her so eagerly envisioned suddenly felt suffocating.
She glanced down at her untouched plate, the taste of the food now bland and meaningless. What did she want? Not the carefully scripted life laid out before her, but something messy, uncertain, and entirely her own.
Cece's voice floated on, full of plans and promises Harriet wasn't sure she wanted to be part of. The diamond ring glittered on her grandmother's finger—a silent emblem of everything Harriet feared she was expected to become.