Chapter 67 Chapter 67

Chapter 67 Chapter 67
COLEEN

I have always shied away from the spotlight.

Weird right? I mean I was the freaking valedictorian and I was going to give a speech in front of the whole school.

Still, that kind of attention was different from the kind of unwanted attention I seemed to get in high school so I hated being noticed for anything other than my accomplishments.

But it was virtually impossible for me to date Hayden and think that I would be able to escape the attention that came with it.

By Wednesday, the whispers weren’t whispers anymore.

It felt like every hallway I walked through carried my name on other people’s lips. Sometimes low, sometimes sharp, sometimes followed by laughter that cut deeper than I wanted to admit. I used to be invisible here. Nobody noticed me unless I raised my hand in class or clocked in at the athletic complex. Now, everywhere I went, eyes followed me.

And not in the good way.

I walked into my literature lecture, notebook clutched against my chest, trying to keep my head down. A pair of girls sitting in the back row didn’t bother lowering their voices.

“Honestly, it makes sense,” one of them said. “She’s probably using him. Guys like Hayden don’t date girls like her for real.”

My throat tightened instantly.

The other girl snorted. “Exactly. I mean, look at her. She’s not… I don’t know, she’s not even in his league. I heard she works at the gym to pay tuition.”

I froze mid-step. My stomach lurched, a mix of shame and anger curling in my chest.

They weren’t wrong about the job. But the way they said it, like it was dirty, like surviving was something to be ashamed of, it stung.

I slid into a seat near the front, forcing my eyes to the board. My pen shook slightly as I clicked it open, though I tried to pretend it didn’t.

It didn’t matter. They didn’t know me. They didn’t know Hayden. They didn’t know anything.

But still, their words clung.

By the time the lecture ended, I was ready to bolt. I shoved my notebook into my bag, tugged the strap over my shoulder, and made for the door as fast as I could.

I almost made it too, until I turned the corner and nearly collided with Hayden.

“Whoa,” he said, catching my arm before I stumbled. His hand was warm, steady. His eyes narrowed as he scanned my face. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said too quickly.

He raised an eyebrow. “Coleen.”

I hated how easily he could read me. With Mark or Alicia, I knew how to dodge questions, how to deflect until they gave up. But Hayden had this way of looking at me like he wasn’t just listening to the words, but to the silence between them too.

“It’s nothing,” I repeated, softer this time.

He didn’t buy it. He shifted his grip so his hand rested lightly against mine, guiding me toward an empty bench by the window. The hallway was buzzing with students, but here, tucked in the corner, it felt a little less suffocating.

“Talk to me,” he said quietly.

I stared down at my lap, twisting the strap of my bag. “People are saying things.”

“What kind of things?”

I hesitated. Saying it out loud made it real, and I hated that. But he waited, patient, his thumb brushing circles against the back of my hand.

“That I’m…” My voice caught, and I forced myself to push through. “That I’m using you. For money. For status. That someone like you wouldn’t actually want someone like me unless there was some angle.”

Silence stretched between us heavily for a beat. My chest tightened, and I rushed to fill it. “I know it’s stupid, I know it doesn’t matter, but it’s everywhere, Hayden. It’s like they’re all just waiting for me to prove them right.”

When I finally dared to glance at him, his jaw was tight, his eyes blazing with something that made my breath catch. Not pity. Anger.

“Coleen,” he said, his voice firm, steady, “do you believe any of that?”

“No,” I whispered, then corrected myself. “At least, I don’t want to. But sometimes… it’s hard not to hear it and wonder if maybe they see something I don’t.”

He shifted closer, his hand cupping my cheek so I had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Listen to me. People will always talk. They’ll make up stories, twist things, say whatever makes them feel better about themselves. But none of that matters. What matters is us. What we know. What we choose.”

My throat burned. “And what do we know?”

“That I like you,” he said without hesitation. “That I want to be with you. That when I look at you, I don’t see money or status or any of that crap, I see you. And you’re the one who makes all of this...” he gestured vaguely, toward the rink outside, the campus, the chaos of it all, “...worth it.”

Tears stung my eyes before I could stop them. I blinked hard, swallowing past the lump in my throat.

“You can’t just say things like that in the middle of the hallway,” I muttered, trying to deflect with humor.

His lips curved. “Why not?”

“Because people are staring.”

“Let them stare,” he said simply.

The words landed heavier than I expected, pressing warmth into the cracks the whispers had left behind.

I leaned against his shoulder, just for a second, letting myself breathe. “You make it sound so easy.”

He kissed the top of my head, his voice low. “That’s because with you, it is.”

For a long moment, we just sat there, the noise of the hallway fading around us. The whispers might keep coming. The stares might not stop. But with his hand in mine and his words still echoing in my chest, I realized something I hadn’t before.

They could say whatever they wanted.

But our truth, the one we were building, piece by piece, was louder.