Episode 6
Caleb's POV
I wasn't supposed to be here. Not in the girls' restroom, not leaning against cold tiles with some girl who meant absolutely nothing to me. But here I was, pulling my shirt straight as I wrapped up my "business."
Break time. Voices filtered in from outside. Then I heard the creak of another stall door and footsteps.
And then—Mariel.
She emerged from one of the cubicles, wiping her hands, the fluorescent lights glinting off her hair. For some reason, she always looked put together, even in the most ordinary places. It annoyed me. It fascinated me. It made my chest feel like a storm I didn't ask for.
Before my brain could tell me don't, I was already moving. In two strides, I grabbed her wrist.
Her eyes widened, shock flashing across her face. She wasn't expecting me—not here. Not in her space.
"What is wrong with you?" she snapped, voice sharp enough to cut glass. And then—bam! Her fist connected with my stomach before I could blink.
"Ugh—!" I doubled over, releasing her instantly. Pain seared through me. The girl packed more punch than she looked.
She glared, fury burning in her eyes. "What are you doing in the girls' restroom, Caleb?"
I forced a smirk onto my lips, ignoring the ache in my belly. "Relax. I had… business with someone here. Want details?"
Her nose wrinkled with disgust. "You have no shame."
"True," I said, leaning a little closer, testing her. "Now, how about we have some business too?"
Her hand twitched, and I could see the slap locked and loaded. "One more step and I'll hit you again," she warned.
I froze, hands raised in mock surrender. The fire in her eyes was deadly, and I couldn't help but admire it. Most girls melted under my grin. Not Mariel. She burned hotter.
"Stay away from me, Caleb," she said firmly. "The only reason we're talking is this history assignment. Nothing more."
I tilted my head, still smirking, though inside something tugged. "Alright, partner. I'll try." My voice dripped with sarcasm.
She didn't bother replying, just stormed out, shoulders stiff, anger trailing behind her like smoke.
For a moment, I stood there, letting the silence settle. Then the smirk slipped.
Yeah. This was my life. My stupid, careless, playboy life. But it wasn't always like this.
I leaned against the wall, memories clawing at me.
Her name was Camille. My first love.
She wasn't from Majestic High, but Coastal High down the road. She had this laugh—loud and warm—that filled every space it touched. She was bright, stubborn, the kind of girl who made you feel like the world had more color than you'd noticed before.
I loved her. I was loyal. For the first time in my spoiled, easy life, I actually cared about someone more than myself.
And then she got sick.
It happened so fast—tests, hospital visits, whispers from doctors I didn't want to understand. One day she was texting me about her favorite show, the next she was gone.
Dead.
The word still sat like glass in my throat.
I didn't know how to breathe after that. My parents pulled me out of Coastal High, thinking distance would heal me. But grief doesn't care about distance. It followed me here, to Majestic High.
And eventually, when the pain dulled just enough, I made a choice. No more attachments. No more love. Just fun, games, and temporary thrills. If you don't give your heart, it can't get broken.
At least, that's what I told myself.
"Did you enjoy what happened there?"
The voice snapped me back.
I turned. Cali—the girl I'd just been with—leaned against the doorframe, smirking in that fake, practiced way.
"You know, you could enjoy more if you stick with me," she purred, eyes trailing over me.
I stared at her, hollow. Her smile faltered as she noticed the emptiness in my face.
"Get out, Cali," I said flatly. "We're done. I don't even know who you are anymore."
Her lips trembled. For a moment, it looked like she might argue. Then she spun on her heel and stormed out.
Good. She needed to go. All of them did.
But as I stepped into the hallway, smoothing down my uniform, my eyes found Mariel in the distance, walking back toward the cafeteria. Her steps were fast, her expression tight, like she was carrying the weight of the world.
And something twisted in me again.
I smirked, masking the ache inside. "You won't be left out, Mariel," I whispered under my breath. "I'll have you… and maybe you'll be the last."
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Mariel's POV
I marched back toward the cafeteria, pulse still racing. My wrist tingled where his hand had been, and my stomach churned with anger.
Caleb Hollies. That boy was a plague. A virus. A walking embarrassment to mankind. And yet somehow, he still made my mood nosedive with just a smirk.
I spotted Ellie at our table, already halfway through her pasta. She waved as I slid back into my seat.
"Took you long enough," she teased. "I almost thought you were in labor or something."
I laughed despite myself, rolling my eyes. "Ha, very funny."
The truth was, I couldn't tell her what had just happened. Not yet. It was too messy, too confusing. And Ellie—bless her playful, dramatic soul—would blow it way out of proportion.
So I stuffed my feelings down, picked up my fork, and forced a smile.
"Eat up," Ellie said. "You'll need strength for class later."
Strength. Yeah. She had no idea how much.
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TBC…