Chapter 168

Chapter 168
Bryson's POV


After our agreed plan, we left the rooftop together, and the rain was coming down harder now. Thus, we huddle close under the single umbrella I'd grabbed from my car that morning. Linnet's shoulder pressed against mine as we descended the library stairs, our hands clasped together beneath the cover of the umbrella's canopy.

The intimacy of it felt like a preview of what we were about to do, this public declaration that we belonged to each other.

When we pushed through the library's main doors and stepped into the hallway, I didn't let go of her hand.

The effect was immediate. Heads turned as we walked past, double-takes and widened eyes tracking our progress down the corridor. I could feel the weight of their stares, could practically hear the mental gears turning as people tried to reconcile what they were seeing with whatever rumors they'd heard about Linnet and me.

I kept my grip on Linnet's hand firm and steady, kept my shoulders back and my head high. This was it—the point where we stopped hiding, stopped pretending, stopped letting other people's opinions dictate how we lived our lives.

The hallway grew more crowded as we approached the main entrance, students lingering by their lockers or clustered in groups, killing the last few minutes before the break ended.

I could see the moment recognition rippled through the crowd, could watch the whispers spreading like wildfire as people registered the sight of us walking hand-in-hand through the most public space in the entire school.

And then I saw her.

Sofia was standing near the main entrance with her usual entourage of cheerleaders. She was in the middle of some animated story, her hands gesturing dramatically, but she stopped mid-sentence as she caught sight of us.

I watched her face cycle through a rapid series of emotions—confusion, disbelief, anger, and finally something that looked almost like betrayal. She pushed away from her friends and stalked toward us, her expression hardening into something cold and vicious.

"Bryson." My name came out sharp, loud enough to cut through the ambient noise of the hallway. Around us, conversations died as people turned to watch what was rapidly becoming a spectacle. "What the hell is this?"

I stopped walking, pulling Linnet to a halt beside me. I could feel her hand trembling slightly in mine, but when I glanced at her face I saw nothing but steely determination. We'd talked about this on the rooftop, had planned for this exact moment. She knew what was coming, and she'd agreed to it.

"What does it look like, Sofia?" I said, keeping my voice level but letting it carry to the crowd forming around us.

Her eyes darted between me and Linnet, her face flushing an ugly shade of red. "No," she said, shaking her head like she could deny reality through sheer force of will. "No, this isn't—you can't be serious. Her?" She gestured at Linnet with barely concealed contempt. "She's just some scholarship student who—why would you—"

She was floundering, I realized, unable to articulate what she really wanted to say without sounding exactly as petty and classist as she actually was.

"Why would I fall in love with her?" I supplied, and watched Sofia flinch at the word. Around us, I heard gasps, the sound of phones being pulled out to record this moment. Good. Let them document it. Let there be no ambiguity about what I was declaring here.

Sofia's mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out. She looked genuinely shell-shocked, like the idea that I might actually have feelings for Linnet had never even occurred to her as a possibility.

I felt a smile curve my lips.

Then I turned to Linnet, saw her eyes widen slightly as she read my intention, saw the moment she steeled herself for what was about to happen.

And I kissed her.

I pulled her close with the hand that was already holding hers, my other hand coming up to cup her face as I closed the distance between us. For a split second I felt her surprise, her body tensing with the shock of it, and then she was kissing me back—fierce and certain and claiming, her free hand fisting in my shirt as she pulled me even closer.

The hallway erupted around us. I heard gasps and whistles, heard someone shout "Holy shit!" and someone else laugh with delight, heard the unmistakable sound of dozens of phones capturing this moment for posterity.

But none of it mattered because Linnet was in my arms, kissing me like she meant it, like she was every bit as committed to this declaration as I was.

When we finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, I kept my forehead pressed against hers for just a moment, letting the reality of what we'd just done settle over us. Then I pulled back and met her eyes, saw them bright with tears and determination and something that looked a lot like pride.

Around us, the crowd was going wild.

Sofia looked like I'd physically struck her. Her face had gone pale beneath her makeup, her eyes wide with shock and fury and something that might have been genuine hurt beneath all the rage.

"You're going to regret this, Bryson!" she shouted as I turned away from her, her voice shrill and desperate. "Both of you! You're going to regret this!"

I didn't respond, didn't even look back. I just squeezed Linnet's hand once more, then reluctantly let her go.

"I love you," I said quietly, just for her.

"I love you too," she whispered back, and then she was walking away toward the east wing, her shoulders squared and her head high despite every eye in the hallway following her progress.

I turned toward the west wing and my AP Government class, my heart still racing from the kiss and the confrontation and the sheer audacity of what we'd just done. Behind me, I could hear Sofia's voice rising in pitch as she tried to regain control of the situation, tried to spin this into something that didn't make her look like she'd just been publicly rejected.

I didn't care. Let her say whatever she wanted. The truth was out there now, documented on dozens of phones, already spreading through social media like wildfire. Everyone would know Linnet was my girlfriend.

Including my father.

---


Later in the afternoon, I was packing up my books when my phone vibrated against my thigh. I pulled it out, already knowing who it would be, my stomach clenching with a familiar dread that I tried to push down.

[My study. After school.]

So my father heard of it already.

I typed out my response with steady fingers almost immediately:

[Yes, father.]

Two words. The same two words I'd been typing in response to his summons for years. Obedient. Compliant. Exactly what he expected.

But as I hit send, I felt something shift inside me, some fundamental realignment of power and purpose. Because this time, those words meant something completely different.

This time, they weren't surrender.

They were strategy.

I would go to his study. I would face him. But I wouldn't be the terrified boy who'd spent his whole life cowering under Cole Doyle's control. I would be the man who'd just publicly declared his love for Linnet Mellor in front of half the school, who'd chosen truth over fear, who'd finally figured out that my father's power over me only extended as far as I let it.

Yes, father, I'd written.

But what I meant was: I'm coming. And this time, I'm not backing down.

I shoved my phone back in my pocket and headed toward the parking lot, toward the beginning of whatever came next. My heart was racing and my hands were shaking slightly, but beneath the fear was something new, something I'd never felt before when contemplating a confrontation with my father.

Hope.

Because for the first time in my life, I wasn't facing him alone.