Chapter 62 Chapter 62
Monday did not ease in. It arrived sharp and unapologetic.
Cass felt it the moment she pulled into the parking lot. The air itself seemed charged, like the school was holding its breath. She turned off the engine and sat there for a second longer than necessary, hands resting on the steering wheel, grounding herself.
You’re fine, she told herself. You’ve survived worse.
She stepped out of the car and immediately spotted Lena waving dramatically from three rows down, already mid story with someone Cass didn’t recognize. Lena spotted her and beamed, abandoning the conversation without apology.
“Okay,” Lena said as they walked toward the building, “rule for today. No shrinking. No apologizing for existing. And absolutely no letting Marvin get inside your head.”
Cass smiled faintly. “You make it sound so easy.”
“I make it sound survivable,” Lena corrected.
Inside, the halls buzzed. Not whispering, not gawking. Just… watching. Cass noticed something new though. A few nods. A couple of smiles. Even a quiet “good morning” from a girl in her English class who had never acknowledged her before.
Things were shifting. Slowly. Unevenly.
Zayelle passed them near the lockers, surrounded as usual. She looked polished, effortless, like she’d stepped straight out of a different world. When her eyes met Cass’s, she paused.
“Hey,” Zayelle said, casual but deliberate. “You good?”
Cass blinked, surprised. “Yeah. I am.”
Zayelle smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes this time. “Good.”
She walked off, laughter resuming instantly as if it had never stopped.
Lena leaned in. “Did you feel that?”
Cass nodded. “Yeah.”
“Interesting,” Lena murmured.
First period dragged. Second flew by. By lunchtime, Cass felt wrung out, like she’d been bracing all day for something that hadn’t happened yet.
And then it did.
The cafeteria doors burst open, and Marvin walked in like a storm with legs.
He looked different. Hair unkempt. Jaw tight. That usual swagger was cracked, barely held together by fury. Jacinta trailed behind him, eyes red, mouth set in a thin line.
Cass stiffened.
“Don’t look,” Lena whispered.
Too late.
Marvin’s gaze locked onto Cass’s table. His mouth twitched like he was deciding something.
He climbed onto a chair.
Then onto the table.
The cafeteria fell into stunned silence.
“Well,” Marvin announced loudly, arms spread, “I guess we’re celebrating ambition now.”
Cass’s stomach dropped.
Marvin’s eyes burned into her. “Didn’t know charity cases were running for student council these days.”
Gasps rippled through the room.
Cass felt heat crawl up her neck. Her heart slammed painfully against her ribs. For a split second, she wanted to disappear. To fold inward. To let the floor swallow her whole.
Then she felt Lena move.
Lena stood slowly, deliberately, pushing her chair back with a loud scrape.
“Get down,” Lena said calmly.
Marvin laughed. “Or what?”
Lena didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t shout. She just picked up her tray.
Cass’s breath caught.
The tray tipped.
Food cascaded. Not dramatic. Not rushed. Just enough to coat Marvin’s jacket, his hair, his precious smug expression in something sticky and humiliating.
The cafeteria froze.
Lena met his stunned stare. “Or that.”
Jacinta screamed. Someone cheered. A teacher rushed forward shouting names.
Marvin looked unhinged.
Cass stood too, legs shaking but spine straight. “You don’t get to decide who belongs here,” she said, her voice quieter than Lena’s but just as firm. “Not anymore.”
For once, Marvin had nothing to say.
Later, as Cass sat in the principal’s office beside Lena, adrenaline still buzzing through her veins, she realized something had broken open.
Not her.
Him.
After school, Cass spotted Jace leaning against his car, waiting.
Her heart skipped. Annoyingly.
“You okay?” he asked when she approached.
She nodded. “I think I am.”
He studied her face, something soft and proud in his eyes. “You didn’t back down.”
“Neither did Lena.”
Jace smiled faintly. “She’s terrifying.”
Cass laughed, the sound surprising her.
Across the lot, Marvin was arguing with their father on the phone, pacing like a caged animal. For the first time, he looked small.
That night, Cass wrote in her diary again.
Today, I didn’t disappear.
I didn’t beg.
I stood there and let myself be seen.
She paused, then added one more line.
And Jace was there when I looked up.
Monday ended without explosions. No apologies. No miracles.
But Cass went to sleep knowing something important.
The war wasn’t over.
But she was no longer fighting it alone.