Chapter 137 Your Mom

Chapter 137 Your Mom

Liam POV

​I lengthen my stride down the sidewalk, every step heavy with the raw frustration still boiling in my gut from yesterday. I can hear Elena’s quick, frantic footsteps scraping behind me, but I don't slow down. I can't look at her right now—not when every time I close my eyes, I still see Daniel’s arms wrapped around her.

"Liam, please... I am sorry," Elena says, her breath hitching behind me as she trots to keep up with my speed.

"Sorry cannot solve what you have caused," I say, keeping my eyes fixed straight on the road ahead. "I mean, I don't even know what could have happened if I did not come on time yesterday!"

"I was just... I mean, since you did not come back on time, that is why!" she calls out, her slippers slapping against the pavement.

I slam my teeth together and push forward without offering another word.

We reach the school's main gate, where students are gathered around the entrance posts. The moment our boots cross the gate threshold, the low hum of chatter turns into sharp whispers.

"Oh my God, is that not her?" a girl near the guardhouse says, pointing.

"Yes, she won't be with another man and is still running after his friend!" another student snickers, leaning into a small circle.

"Does that mean Elena and Daniel were dating?"

The words fly from left and right as we walk down the main courtyard path. Finger-pointing, glances, and hushed giggles follow our every step. Elena drops her head, her shoulders drawing inward as her hands pull at the hems of her blazer.

I stop in my tracks, reach into my jacket pocket, and pull out my wireless earbuds. I turn back to Elena, step right into her personal space, and plug one piece directly into her right ear. I place the second piece in her left ear, tap the touch sensor, and crank the volume to maximum.

Before she can lift her eyes, I wrap my fingers firmly around her wrist, lock my grip, and drag her straight past the whispering crowd toward the academic building.

We reach the third-floor hallway and step through the door of Class 2-B.

A crowd of students is jammed in the front aisle, staring at the main whiteboard. I push through the crowd and step into the front row.

Written across the clean white surface in thick, red permanent marker are massive block letters:

ELENA IS A PROSTITUTE. RUNNING BETWEEN LIAM AND DANIEL FOR MONEY. CHEAP MAGIC WITCH.

"What is going on here?" I mutter under my breath.

"What is this..." Elena whispers behind my shoulder, her voice trembling.

Zayn is already standing at the teacher's podium, holding a heavy felt eraser and a bottle of cleaning spray. He shakes the spray bottle and blasts the red ink.

"It's not something to be worried about," Zayn says, dragging the eraser hard across the board, smearing the fresh chemical solution over the red letters.

I step up to the podium, snatch a second eraser from the tray, and join him. I press the pad hard against the board, scrubbing back and forth with short, aggressive strokes until the red ink breaks down into streaky dust on the floor.

I slap the eraser back into the aluminum tray, wipe the white dust off my palms onto my trousers, and turn toward the door.

The classroom front door swings open.

Daniel steps into the frame, a dark purple bruise sitting heavy under his eye and a white bandage taped over his right cheek.

My feet lock to the floorboards. Daniel halts right at the threshold.

​Our eyes meet in the doorway, locking together with pure, unadulterated hatred. I stare straight into his face, silently warning him that if he takes one step toward Elena, I will finish what Marcus started. Daniel glares back, his jaw clenching tight, his fingers digging into his backpack strap as if barely holding himself back.

I break the eye contact, push past his shoulder without making physical contact, and step out into the hallway.

The final afternoon bell rings across the outdoor sports facilities. The boys' basketball team finishes up post-practice drills on the court, wiping sweat with towels and grabbing water bottles near the bleachers.

Marcus stands by the equipment rack, tossing a basketball from his left hand to his right with a sharp smirk on his bruised face.

"Who will Elena choose between you both?" Marcus calls out, raising his voice so the entire court can hear. He laughs aloud, shaking his head. "I can't wait to see the winner!"

Nobody answers him. Marcus throws the ball into the storage bin and kicks the metal frame with his sneaker.

"What a love triangle to show!" Marcus yells, backing away toward the locker room doors. "I know this drama will have Season 2!"

I turn my back on Marcus and grab my gym bag off the bench. As I sling the strap over my shoulder, Daniel steps off the court lines, walking in the exact same direction toward the side exit.

I stop, turning my body around to face him directly in the middle of the empty court.

"Do you have something to say?" I ask, my voice echoing off the high chain-link fences. "I saw something yesterday I had never thought of seeing you do."

Daniel stops walking. He stands three feet away, his arms hanging flat by his sides, his eyes staring into mine without dropping a word.

I take one long step forward until our chests are inches apart, tilting my chin down to meet his eyes. "Why did you even like Elena? That makes it look like a love triangle."

Daniel stays silent, his chest rising and falling softly.

"What is going on with you?" I push further, lowering my pitch. "Mrs. Olivia was so worried about not seeing you yesterday."

Daniel's eyebrows twitch. His head snaps up. "Did you just say she was worried about me?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "And could she not worry about you?"

Daniel lets out a bitter, breathy sound from his nose. "Are you not even curious about who your mom was?"

I step right into his frame, grabbing his collar with one quick snap of my fingers, pulling his face down toward mine. "If I want to know, will you help me with it? Stop rubbing it in my face that you have a mom! It looks boring!"

Daniel tries to yank my hand off his jacket. "Rubbing it?!"

"Maybe Marcus could have beat you more than this," I say, shoving his chest back so hard his sneakers drag through the dust court. "At least you would have more sense!"

I spin around and take three fast steps toward the gate.

I freeze, turn my head over my shoulder, and point a finger right between his eyes.

"And lastly... don't even let me see you near my house or anywhere around me."

I turn back around and keep walking, leaving him alone on the empty court.