Chapter 2: The Truth Behind Her Smile
The day I overheard Savannah Pierce and Carter Lang talking, I’d just finished figuring out how I did on my exams.
I was slouched on the steps outside the guidance office, stale smell of old textbooks in the air, my phone buzzing with group chat drama. Looked like I was neck-and-neck with Carter.
I’d just breathed a sigh of relief when Carter’s familiar voice came from behind the door: “Savannah, don’t forget, you haven’t won the bet yet.”
“Only if you get Alex Monroe to go to community college with you. Then you’ll have beaten me.”
Savannah didn’t even blink at what he said. Not a care in the world.
She just rolled her eyes, flipping her hair the way she always did. “With his grades right now, can’t you see? He’s barely scraping by—what decent college could he even get into?”
Carter shot back, “He’s always been smart, what if—”
“Even if he pulls off a miracle, where he goes is up to me anyway. Right?”
That’s when the rest of them lost it, the other kids cracking up all at once.
The same guys who always called me Savannah’s boyfriend-in-training were now talking trash:
“With the way Alex simps for Savannah, forget college together—he’d be stoked just to pick up trash with her.”
“Exactly, everyone at Maple Heights High knows he tanked his grades just to be with her. With that kind of lovesick brain, is there anything he wouldn’t do?”
Laughter. All of them acting like they knew everything.
The hallway echoed with their snickers, sneakers squeaking on the linoleum. I heard every word. Honestly? Didn’t even care.
If King David could throw away his crown for Bathsheba—yeah, I paid attention in Sunday school—what’s the big deal if I flunk a few tests to make someone like Savannah Pierce happy?
Then someone else, grinning, tossed out another joke.
“Carter, if Alex ever finds out this was all your revenge plan, he’ll probably hate your guts.”
Carter just rolled his eyes, sneering. Like he couldn’t believe he had to spell it out for them.
“Idiot, isn’t it obvious? Why even ask?”
But this time, they were wrong.
I didn’t hate Carter at all—in fact, weirdly enough, I was grateful to him.
After all, with a face as bland as mine, the kind you could press into cookie dough and not leave a single mark, getting a shot with someone like Savannah Pierce? That was all Carter. He practically handed her to me.
I almost wanted to send him a thank-you card. Just to see his face when he got it.
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