Chapter 4: Detention with Destiny

"Today, we’ll be called on at random to recite the new passage."

The classroom buzzed with nervous energy. I could feel the anxiety in the air as everyone shuffled their papers.

The one in red and green is my cousin, Jolene Mae. In the story, she egged Savannah on to hate the heroine even more.

Jolene Mae leaned in, whispering, "That Elena, not only does the First Lady say she’s brilliant, even Mr. Carter looks at her differently."

She had a knack for stirring the pot, always looking for the next bit of gossip to chew on.

I was calm—of course. She’s the heroine, who else should have the spotlight? Side characters like us should just keep our heads down.

I leaned back, arms crossed, trying to look nonchalant. Jolene Mae eyed me suspiciously.

Soon, I replied, "Don’t be silly, Mr. Carter isn’t mine."

I shrugged, pretending I didn’t care. The words tasted strange, but they were true—at least now.

Jolene Mae looked confused. "Savannah, are you okay? Didn’t you used to have a huge crush on him?"

She stared at me, like she was trying to solve a puzzle. I just grinned, playing it cool.

I waved her off. "Cousin, you’re still too young. You can’t put all your eggs in one basket."

I tapped her on the nose, like I was the wise old aunt. She blinked, clearly thrown by my new attitude.

She froze for a second. I thought she was shocked by my boldness.

She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again, lost for words.

Just then, Elena called softly behind me, "Mr. Carter."

Her voice was gentle, but there was a confidence there. I stiffened, realizing I’d been overheard.

Crap! My heart pounded. What did I just say?

I glanced over my shoulder, praying I hadn’t just outed myself as a fraud.

"Savannah, you’re so good with metaphors. Did you memorize today’s passage?" Mr. Carter’s voice sounded behind me.

He was right behind me, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. I gulped, caught off guard.

I glared at Jolene Mae, then turned with a sheepish smile. "Of course I did."

I tried to sound confident, but my voice wobbled. The class watched, waiting for me to slip up.

Mm-hm.

He didn’t say a word, just stared. I fiddled with my pencil, stalling for time.

Of course, I’d memorized it. But I get stage fright. Seeing the whole class staring, my mind went blank.

I felt sweat bead on my forehead. My mouth went dry, and the words just wouldn’t come.

"M-Mr. Carter, can I do it tomorrow?"

My voice was barely a whisper. He didn’t look impressed.

He raised an eyebrow, not surprised by Savannah’s usual tricks.

He sighed, tapping his pen against the desk. The class snickered.

"How about I go first?" Elena stepped forward to save me.

She smiled, her voice calm and reassuring. I shot her a grateful look.

I looked at her gratefully.

She nodded, as if to say, "I’ve got your back."

She recited the passage perfectly, her voice clear and sweet.

Her words flowed like music. The class listened, captivated. Even Mr. Carter seemed impressed.

"Very good." Mr. Carter finally smiled at her.

His lips curled up, just a bit. It was the first genuine smile I’d seen from him all week.

Elena finished and smiled at me again.

Her eyes sparkled with kindness. I felt a pang of envy, but also relief.

"Elena’s really sharp," Mr. Carter praised, then turned to me: "Savannah, you’re smart but lazy. You need to be punished."

His tone was stern, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. I groaned, knowing what was coming.

I looked horrified. "What?"

I clutched my books to my chest, hoping for mercy.

"Stay after class." He flipped through his papers. "Looks like I’ll have to take my job seriously."

He didn’t even look up. The class snickered again. I slumped in my seat, defeated.

I made a face, never expecting Mr. Carter to pull this. Didn’t he always avoid Savannah before?

Maybe I’d finally pushed him too far. I tried to remember if I’d done anything out of line.

After class, I watched Elena take her books to ask for help. When Mr. Carter looked at Elena, he was a different person—way more patient, not nearly as cold as he was with me. I admit, I was jealous. The main couple really is different!

They looked like they belonged together—two halves of a perfect picture. I felt like an extra in my own life.

I packed my stuff, ready to bolt.

I tried to slip out quietly, but Mr. Carter’s voice stopped me.

"Savannah, heading back to the music room to study more?"

His tone was casual, but I could tell he was watching me closely. I froze, caught.

Looking back, Elena was gone. Only Mr. Carter was left, propping his head up, looking at me with a half-smile.

He looked relaxed, but there was something calculating in his eyes. I braced myself.

Uh…

I tried to look clueless, hoping he’d go easy on me.

I gave him my best innocent smile, but he didn’t buy it.

He picked up his pen, fiddling with paperwork. "Memorize the passage I assigned yesterday. Otherwise…"

He let the threat hang in the air. My stomach dropped.

"Otherwise?"

I frowned. I’m a proper Whitaker. How can this man threaten me all the time?

I crossed my arms, trying to look tough, but he didn’t flinch.

"Otherwise, you’ll stay here every day and help me with paperwork." He looked calm, eyes on his work.

He didn’t even glance up. I gritted my teeth, knowing I was beat.

With no one around, I rolled my eyes at lightning speed. Then… sat down to memorize. Don’t blame me, I never thought being a princess would mean being this much of a pushover. But who told him to be such a cold, ruthless teacher in the story?

I slumped in my chair, mumbling under my breath. The room felt colder with just the two of us.

After an hour, I could finally recite it all. He didn’t say anything. I tiptoed over and found Mr. Carter with his eyes closed, lips pressed tight, dark circles smudged under them. He looked wiped out. Because he’s so capable, my dad piles everything on him; besides teaching me, he handles a mountain of town business. No wonder he looked pale. For some reason, looking at him, my heart softened. He has gentle eyes, but when he isn’t smiling he gives off this cool, intimidating vibe—reach for him and he’ll ice you out. Why did the original Savannah like him? I raised my hand, wanting to smooth his furrowed brow.

I hesitated, my hand hovering in the air. The urge to comfort him was strong, but I knew better than to cross that line.

Snap—

Suddenly, my wrist was gripped tight. In an instant, I was pinned to the floor. The one holding my hands above my head was none other than the always-composed Mr. Carter. We were so close, I could feel his breath, warm and fleeting. It made my skin tingle. In his blue eyes, I saw a girl—panicked and confused, but pretty. His Adam’s apple bobbed, like he was flustered. I swallowed, my heart suddenly racing. His gaze moved from my forehead to my eyes, then to my lips. Intense and unreadable, making me nervous. He lowered his voice, hoarse and low, "Who are you, really?"

His grip was firm, but not painful. The question hung in the air, heavy and dangerous. I could see the suspicion in his eyes.

I froze. No way. Did he notice something?

My mind raced, searching for a way out. I tried to look innocent, but my heart was pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it.

"Y-y-you wouldn’t dare!" I stammered.

I tried to sound brave, but my voice shook. He didn’t move, just watched me.

He paused, then raised an eyebrow. "Dare?"

His lips curled up, just a bit. I felt a chill run down my spine.

His handsome face hovered over me, searching for a flaw. I panicked. They say beauty is a curse. I silently repeated to myself: Stay away from the main guy, stay alive!

I squeezed my eyes shut, praying he’d let me go. My mind flashed with images of the original Savannah’s fate.

That fate still haunted me.

The memory was so vivid, I almost forgot where I was. I steeled myself, determined not to let history repeat itself.

"How dare you!"

I shoved him off, rolled away, and bolted. Whew… I breathed a sigh of relief. Mr. Carter looked stunned.

I didn’t wait for his reaction. I sprinted out the door, not looking back. My heart was still racing as I ducked into the nearest hallway.

I quickly realized… What did I just do? Not only did I push away the guy Savannah loved most, I scolded him too?

I pressed my back against the wall, catching my breath. Was I digging my own grave, or finally rewriting the story?

……

"Miss Whitaker…" Mr. Carter looked at me, unreadable.

He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. I swallowed hard, waiting for the verdict.

He seemed unable to figure out why the girl who used to chase him so much had suddenly changed.

He watched me for a long moment, then shook his head, almost amused.

"I finished reciting. I’ll be going." I blurted, then ran.

I didn’t wait for a response. I grabbed my backpack and bolted, nearly tripping over my own feet.

My retreat was fast. But I didn’t know that Mr. Carter, watching me go, couldn’t help but smile, a teasing glint in his eyes.

Behind me, I heard the faintest chuckle. Maybe, just maybe, I was getting through to him.

……