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The next morning, I marched into school determined to confront Thomas. I had to uncover the real reason behind his lie and why he broke up with Isabella. There was no way he ended things just because he wanted Rachel back. The thought made me almost laugh.
When I spotted Thomas with his nose taped up with gauze, a flicker of guilt washed over me. But I quickly pushed it aside, reminding myself why he deserved every bit of it. Stupid Thomas. Still, he got lucky yesterday. I'd caught him in the nurse's office with Isabella, comforting her. I could hardly believe it. He was wiping away her tears, holding her close, even crying with her. Then he kissed her forehead. If that didn't scream, "I still want her," I don't know what does.
I was about to march over and demand answers when Rachel plopped down right beside him. My fists clenched as I backed away to my desk. If I wanted the truth, Thomas needed to be alone. I had a gut feeling Rachel was involved, and if she was anywhere near him, she'd just start yapping and ruin everything.
So, I decided to wait until school was over. No way Rachel would be around then, and if she was, I'd just have to catch him by his car.
Scanning the parking lot, I searched for his Honda. When I spotted him chatting with a classmate—and no Rachel in sight, I smiled. Thank fucking God.
I waited until his friend walked away, then sprinted toward him. When he saw me coming, he quickly shielded his nose. His back hit his car, and fear flickered across his face.
I rolled my eyes, raising my hands in surrender. "I just want to talk."
He stared at me, confused, brows raised but still wary. "Why?"
"Isabella," I said, cutting to the chase.
He sighed, his eyes drifting away. "Not this again," he groaned, turning to face me. "Look, we already talked about why I broke up—"
"It's not that," I interrupted. He was going to lie anyway, so what was the point?
"Fine, what do you want?"
"Why were you in the nurse's office comforting her if you're so over her?" I asked, quoting his words from our little talk yesterday.
His eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly masked it with a stoic expression. "I wasn't."
"I saw you there when I went to check on her." His gaze flickered toward me. I knew I had his full attention. "And I know exactly why you did it."
He fidgeted, avoiding my eyes as they drifted to the ground. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Okay, let's pretend I didn't see you yesterday. Why didn't you ask for your necklace back?"
"I—um... ah..." He stumbled over his words.
I chuckled. "That's what I thought." I smirked. "Now tell me the real reason you broke up with her," I demanded, tapping my foot impatiently. "And don't you dare bring up how 'flexible' Rachel is again." I gagged just thinking about that conversation. But then, a smile crept across my face as I recalled what happened next, Thomas sprawled on the ground, screaming in pain. He'd earned that punch.
"Rachel," he muttered under his breath.
"What about her?"
"She knows."
"What does she know?" I asked through gritted teeth. His vague answers were driving me crazy!
"That she's really Isabella Elizabeth Ace."
My mouth dropped open in shock. "You knew? Since when?"
He stepped back, giving me space. "Since the day of the basketball game."
"So you broke up with her because you found out she's Isabella Ace?" I guessed, my anger rising. No wonder he'd been avoiding her all weekend. He couldn't stand the idea that he actually liked her. What a pig.
He snapped his head toward me, denying quickly. "No!"
"Then why?"
"Don't get me wrong," he began, "at first, I was in denial. No matter how much I hated Isabella, I still loved her, if that even makes sense. I couldn't even wrap my head around it before Rachel threatened to expose her. I had to go along with it because she practically forced me to."
"Let me get this straight." I studied his face. "You dumped her to protect her from Rachel?"
"Yes." He smiled, relieved I understood. "Rachel said if I didn't get back together with her, she'd make the rest of Isabella's senior year a living hell."
For some inexplicable reason, I found myself hugging Thomas—awkwardly, no less, since I never hugged anyone unless we were close. And believe me, Thomas and I were anything but close.
"Um," he said, hesitantly patting my shoulder, trying, and failing to hug me back. I smiled against his shoulder. At least he was trying.
"Sorry," I said with a lopsided grin. "I couldn't help it. That was really un-Thomas like of you." Maybe I had misjudged him after all.
"Thanks, I think... but it's too late now." A flicker of hurt crossed his eyes, likely thoughts of Isabella weighing on him. "She must hate me now, doesn't she?"
I smiled, trying to hide my excitement. Oh, just wait until he hears this. "Thomas, I have another question."
"Ah, what?" He looked confused by the sudden change of subject.
"Do you still truly love her?"
"Yeah," he said without a moment's hesitation, his voice steady and sincere. "I truly love her."
I glimpsed the fierce blaze in his eyes, a love so relentless it tolerated no denial, pure and unyielding, casting out every trace of doubt I had.
"Great!"
"How is that great?" His confusion was obvious. "It doesn't matter how I feel." He sighed deeply, running his fingers through his blonde hair. "She hates me."
"No, she doesn't."
"How could she not?" he asked, disbelief coloring his voice. "I jumped to conclusions and made her life miserable." His hand clenched into a fist, pounding once against his knee, frustration pouring out.
"I'm not following..."
"Do you remember how the Reed's died?"
"Yeah." How could I forget? It happened right before I moved here. The news replayed the tragedy over and over for days.
"They were my parents...I blamed her for their deaths," he confessed softly, his voice cracking under the weight of the truth. "I kept telling myself that if it wasn't for her, my parents would still be alive. I hated her for it." His voice faltered, a painful vulnerability shining through. "But maybe... maybe that was just my way of dealing with the pain."
"Wait," I said gently, "you bullied her because you were hurting and blamed her for your parents' death?" No wonder Isabella has no idea why she was targeted so relentlessly. That part of her childhood is a blank, she doesn't even remember enough to understand the reason behind it all.
He nodded, swallowing hard. Regret etched into his features. "Yeah. It was wrong, but I was lost. I didn't know how else to handle it. I know now revenge wasn't the right choice."
"I think Isabella learned that the hard way, too," I said with a nervous laugh. He looked at me, brow furrowed, a strange expression crossing his face. My heart skipped, I almost exposed our plan. "I mean... um, I think you still have a chance with her."
His eyes brightened with a fragile hope. "Really?"
"Yup. Isabella told me she loves you."
He blinked, as if hearing those words was something he never expected. "She did?"
I nodded, watching the genuine happiness flood his face. "If you want her back, you have to be honest with her."
He exhaled, a small, determined smile forming. "You're right. I have to talk to her."
I stuck my tongue out at him playfully. "Well, no duh."
He hesitated, anxiety creeping in. "What about Rachel? I can't let her hurt Izzy like that..."
"Let me handle Rachel. For now, go get your girl."
"I will."
He unlocked his car door, slid inside, and buckled up. Halfway down the driveway, he suddenly stopped, leaned out the window, and grinned. "Thanks, Amanda! I owe you big time!"
I laughed, cupping my hands around my mouth. "You better!" I yelled as he sped away.
I was about to head to my car when my phone buzzed. Isabella's name flashed on the screen, and a smile tugged at my lips. I hadn't heard from her since yesterday. She didn't respond to my text last night, but I figured she just needed some space after everything that happened with Thomas.
I thought about sending something lighthearted, maybe teasing her a bit. Skipping school isn't like you, Isabella, I thought, but before I could type it, another message came through.
It wasn't like her to send another message without receiving one first, so when I saw the next part of the message, I felt my stomach twist.
Her words were all jumbled.
Amanda. Listen yiu nees to
The text message ended abruptly. My fingers hovered over the phone, heartbeat picking up speed. What was that? Is she butt texting me or something?
I stared at the screen, hoping she'd send more, but nothing came through.
I tapped a quick reply, Isabella, what's wrong?
I waited. Seconds felt like minutes. I tried sending another text. Are you okay? I waited a few more minutes, but an answer didn't come.
A cold wave of panic hit me. Something felt off. Something was wrong. I quickly dialed her number. My hands were shaking, my heartbeat picked up thundering in my chest. The phone call went straight to voicemail.
I glanced around, almost expecting to see her nearby, hoping it was some sort of a prank. But she wasn't there. The air felt thick with dread. My thoughts raced. What if she was in trouble?
Then, my phone buzzes again. Another message. My eyes scanned it and my blood ran cold.
One word.
Help.
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