Chapter 138 Centennial Celebration
Melissa hit the ground hard. Pain shot up her spine. She narrowed her eyes and glared at Barry.
"Who the hell are you? How dare you treat me like this? Do you know who I am?"
"Melissa Jenkins. Born in—"
Barry's sharp eyes, framed by silver-rimmed glasses, locked onto her as he recited her entire family background in a flat tone.
Melissa cut him off halfway. "Who are you? How do you know all this?"
Barry's lips curved slightly. His gaze shifted toward a nearby alley.
Melissa followed his line of sight and caught a glimpse of the car window behind him.
The moment Barry had stepped out, the window had rolled up. Now all she could see was her own reflection—pale and terrified.
Regret surged through her. She should never have approached the car.
"I… I want to see Mr. Anderson." Melissa clenched her fists, swallowing the fear crawling up her throat.
"Mr. Anderson isn't someone you can see just because you want to." Barry adjusted his glasses, his gaze sweeping over her with undisguised contempt.
"I have important information. About Ms. Rodriguez."
"I've truly reformed. I'm hoping Mr. Anderson will give me a chance. I'll do anything for him."
The car window lowered slowly, revealing Terrence's cold, distant profile.
"You'd better pray your information is worth something." His tone was flat, but carried a weight that left no room for argument.
Melissa started to move forward, but Barry stepped in front of her.
"Come any closer and I'll break your legs." His voice was low, cold.
Melissa's chest tightened. She took a deep breath. "Bianca, she…"
The lie she'd been about to spin—some fabricated accusation—died in her throat. Her eyes flicked nervously.
Last time, she had claimed Bianca was flirting around. But Bianca hadn't suffered any consequences. Maybe Terrence had already looked into it and found out she'd lied.
If she lied again now, the consequences could be unthinkable.
Melissa shivered and changed tactics. "She's having a hard time at school. A lot of people are trashing her on the forum."
Sure enough, a flicker of emotion crossed Terrence's cold face.
Melissa exhaled in relief.
She needed to maintain contact with Terrence to create the illusion they were close.
"Look." Melissa quickly opened her phone, pulled up the forum page, and held it out respectfully.
Barry took the phone, scanned it quickly, and anger flashed in his eyes. He turned to report to Terrence.
Terrence pressed his lips together, then turned his head to look at Melissa for a long moment.
"You'll be spared death, but not punishment."
In the dim alley, shrill screams echoed—enough to make anyone's blood run cold.
Thin needles were driven through each of Melissa's ten fingers. She lifted her trembling hands, blood already staining her skin red.
The hatred inside her nearly consumed her reason. A vow of revenge took root in her mind.
"Mr. Anderson says if you discover anything harmful to Ms. Rodriguez, you can contact me anytime."
A business card fluttered down. Whether by coincidence or design, it landed directly in the pool of blood.
The cafeteria incident had been effective. The forum threads stayed lively, but no one dared cause trouble for Bianca in person.
For her, it made little difference.
But Jasmine suffered.
She lacked Bianca's emotional resilience. Every time she saw those cruel comments, her eyes would redden instantly, as if each word were a knife. It made you want to protect her.
"If it hurts to look, why keep looking?"
"I didn't know before. But now that I do, I can't stop myself. Bianca, you're so good. Why do they slander you? I don't understand…"
"Some people like me. Some people hate me. Don't worry about what others think. I only care what you and Terrence think."
At the mention of Terrence, Bianca's expression softened. A faint smile touched her lips.
Jasmine couldn't help teasing. "Bianca, I think Mr. Anderson's the only one who can actually affect your mood."
"Yes." Bianca admitted it without hesitation. "And I came back to school so I could stand beside him. Be worthy of him. Not just depend on him."
"I believe you can do it!" Jasmine's eyes shone with admiration. Then her tone shifted. "Bianca, the Centennial Celebration is coming up. Do you have any plans?"
"The Centennial Celebration…" Bianca lifted her head, her gaze drifting toward the administration building in the distance. "No. But it'll definitely be lively."
In an office on the third floor of the administration building, the air conditioning carried the scent of paper and ink.
The vice principal pulled his gaze back and pushed a manila envelope across the desk toward Melissa.
She didn't immediately reach for it, looking at him in confusion. "Sir, I'm not sure why you asked me here?"
"I've heard about the recent forum situation…" The vice principal paused, then sat down casually.
Melissa's heart pounded. Sweat beaded on her forehead.
"I don't know what you mean."
"The Centennial Celebration is approaching. Naturally, I want it to be impressive—to showcase our school's image. Of course, certain matters require special attention." He picked up his glass and took a light sip.
Melissa's hands clenched at her sides. Her mind raced.
Was he warning her?
But how would he know she was involved in the forum posts? She'd never shown her face. Had those two girls from the bathroom leaked it?
She knew it.
"I didn't mean to—"
The vice principal raised his hand, cutting her off. "Look at the file first. Then we'll talk."
Melissa bit her lip, staring at the envelope as if trying to guess its contents. Evidence? Or something else?
Under his steady gaze, she finally picked it up and unwound the white string loop by loop.
When she saw what was inside, she immediately shoved the documents back, eyes wide.
The vice principal straightened in his chair and set his glass aside.
"Since you've seen it, I won't beat around the bush. I want you to bring him here."
He tapped his finger on the desk. "The Centennial Celebration will be a disappointment without someone of his stature."
Melissa avoided his gaze. "He's… very busy. I'm afraid…"
He pulled a sheet of paper from his drawer and slid it toward her.
Her eyes locked onto the bold title at the top—Graduate Program Admission Recommendation Form.
The words seemed deliberately enlarged, impossible to miss. Her breathing quickened. Greed flashed in her eyes.
"Interested in the spot?"
"I'll do my best. But I might fail." Her throat tightened, but her gaze never left the paper.
The vice principal smiled faintly. "Thinking about pursuing a doctorate?"
The blatant hint made her pulse race. She could barely contain herself.
With that degree, her future would be secure.
"Vice Principal, as a member of this school, of course I want the Centennial Celebration to be a success."
Walking out of the office, Melissa's heart was still pounding. The contents of the manila envelope kept flashing through her mind.