Chapter 115 Coffee and Confrontation
Malia's POV
I haven't been to the café in two days.
Too public. Too many memories. Too risky running into people I'm supposed to avoid—either because the Principal says so or because it’s me desperately trying not to get my emotions trampled on.
But I'm starving for caffeine. Need somewhere to study that isn't my claustrophobic dorm room or the library where everyone whispers. I want to pretend for a few hours that I’m just another college kid doing college things.
So I’m taking my chances.
It's about mid-afternoon before the dinner rush when I get to the café, and it isn't too crowded. I order my black coffee and make my way to the secluded corner table, spreading out my textbooks like a suit of armor.
Vesper’s most recent mission rests atop the stack. A ten-page report on points of hybrid integration failure throughout supernatural history. Due Friday. My final opportunity to show that I can live up to her insane expectations.
No pressure.
I’m three paragraphs in, wrestling with particularly dense source citation, when I hear them.
"There she is."
July's voice. Warm but strained, concerned but trying not to show it. I look up.
Freddy and July are there, uncomfortably standing next to my table, holding their coffee cups, and with looks on their faces that literally make me want to hurl. Not angry. Worse. Anxious.
Distressed that I have been avoiding them.
"Hey," says July softly. "Mind if we sit?"
I want to say yes. I want to shield them from my chaos by maintaining separation. But the hope in July's eyes—the desperate need to help me when I don't deserve it—shatters something in me.
"Okay," I whisper.
They get seated quickly like I might change my mind. Freddy pulls up the chair directly across from me. July slips in beside me, close enough that we’re touching at the shoulders.
"We've been worried," July begins. “You haven’t been answering texts, you’ve been avoiding us—”
"I'm fine," I lie without thinking.
"You're not." Freddy's voice is gentle but firm. “You look exhausted. You're losing weight. Oh and you definitely are not fine.”
I don’t argue. Can't. They're right.
July reaches over, covers my hand with hers. "What happened with Principal McLunar? You never told us."
The worry in her voice tears open something in my chest. I’ve been so busy pushing everyone away, so focused on surviving on my own, that I forgot what it was like to have people who actually cared.
"Academic probation," I say quietly, staring at my coffee. “One more mistake, academic or disciplinary and my scholarship is revoked. I'm done. "
"Fuck," Freddy breathes.
“So I have to—” My voice catches. “I have to be perfect. No more incidents. No more drama. Just — keep my head down and survive until the semester ends.”
“That's why you've been avoiding us,” July realizes. “You’re trying to minimize risk.”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
"Malia, we're your friends. You don't have to—"
"I do." I gently remove my hand from hers. "Everyone I let get close to me, I hurt. Or they get caught up in my mess. It’s better if I just—" I wave vaguely. "Stay away."
"That's crap," Freddy states matter-of-factly. "You did not bring this on yourself. Lydia and her squad have been after you from the beginning. Vesper has been out to get you since the start. And Aiden—" He stops, jaw tight.
"What about Aiden?" I blurt out before I can stop myself.
July and Freddy exchange a look. The kind that says they’ve been talking about this. The kind that means bad news.
"Have you watched Lydia's socials?" Freddy asks carefully.
My stomach drops. "No I... I deleted all my apps. Couldn’t handle —" I stop.”Why.”
He takes out his phone, hesitates, then angles it towards me.
Lydia's socials is logged in. The most recent post was this morning. A photo carousel.
The first photograph is her and Aiden at some restaurant. Fancy place. Candlelit table.
She’s laughing at something, hand on his arm, looking perfect. I swipe to the next image with numb fingers.
Aiden's car. Interior shot. Her feet on the dashboard, her hoodie on his shoulders. Next image.
Them strolling on campus. His arm casually around her shoulders. Both smiling.
The caption reads: Sometimes the right person was there all along.#NewBeginnings #WorthTheWait
Posted six hours ago. Now has over three hundred likes. Comments are flooding in—mostly from her friends, all strains of “you two are perfect together” and “finally!” and “power couple goals.”
I return the phone gently. My hands are trembling.
“Malia—” July gathers herself.
“It’s fine.” The lie tastes like poison. “We’re broken up. He can date whoever he wants.”
“It’s been three days,” Freddy says, his voice tinged with rage. “He’s already—he’s been three days and he’s already—“ He trails off shaking his head. “That’s not moving on. That’s—”
“Revenge,” July finishes.
“Or he's with who he wanted all along.” The words come out flat. Dead. “Maybe I was just — In the way.”
“That’s not true and you know it.” July's voice is fierce. “You and the brothers are bonded, there's no breaking up. He loved you. We all saw it. This—” she gestures at Freddy's phone, “—this is him being hurt and lashing out.”
“By dating the girl who’s been trying to destroy me since day one?” I laugh but there’s no humor in it. “By parading her around in his clothes, posting couple photos, letting the whole world know he’s moved on? ”
“Yes,” says Freddy bluntly. “Because he’s a hurt, angry alpha who’s making terrible choices. But that doesn’t mean—”
“It doesn’t matter.” I cut him off. “I have to stay away from him anyway. Principal’s orders. No contact with any students who complained. That includes Lydia and her whole crew.”
“So you’re just—what? taking this?” Frustration radiates off July. “Letting her win?”
“I’m hanging on.” The word is harsher than I want it to be. “That’s all I can do right now. Live. Hold onto my scholarship. Don’t wreck what’s left of my life.”
They're both quiet. I can sense their worry, their need to make this right, their irritation that I won't let them.
"The brothers miss you,” says July at last. "Cian in particular. He’s been asking after you."
Stabbing pain in my chest. “I can’t. I pushed him away. Tell him to leave me alone.”
“If only you could see how much he’d do for you, how quickly he’d come back for you–”
“I can't be what they need to have.” My voice is breaking. “I just can’t be stable enough, controlled enough, good enough. I'm just—" I point to myself, the disaster that I am. "This one. And this one hurts people.”
“You’re isolating yourself,” Freddy observes. “You’re pushing away all the people who love you. That’s not right, Malia.”
“Maybe not. But it’s safe.” I begin to collect my books. “For everyone.”
“Wait.” July’s hand on my arm stops me. “Just—talk to us. Please. You don’t have to do this by yourself.”
“I do, though.” I look at her, let her see how tired, how resigned I am. “Because every time I let people in, every time I think. Maybe I could have something good… it—breaks apart. Ruins everyone around me. So maybe—”
My voice stutters. “Maybe on my own is the way I should be.”
"That's the depression talking," July says firmly. "And the trauma. And step out of the total bullshyt this school has made you go through. But it's not true."
"Isn't it?" I pull my arm away softly. "Look at the evidence, July. I hurt Victoria. I ruined the bond. I caused so much drama I think they're one error away from kicking me out of school. That's not bad luck. That's just me being—"
"Stop." Freddy's voice tore through. “None of this is your fault.”
There’s a bit of bitterness in my voice that surprises even me. “The whole school would say no. Aiden would absolutely disagree based on–” I nod toward his phone, to the proof of how thoroughly he’s moved on.
July and Freddy exchange another look. This one longer. More loaded.
"What?" I ask cautiously.
"There's something else," July says carefully. "Something we found out this morning."
My stomach tightens. "What?"
Freddy pulls up something else on his phone. A group chat screenshot. "One of my friends is in Lydia's extended social circle. He forwarded this to me this morning. "
He shows me the screen.
It's a private group chat. Names I recognize—Lydia, Beretta, Dinah, Victoria, Charlotte, a few others from their crew. The conversation is from two days ago.
Lydia: Operation Homewrecker is proceeding perfectly. The photos with Aiden are already making her miserable.
Beretta: Did you see the face of her this morning when they showed up together? Priceless.
Victoria: I almost feel bad. Almost. Then again, I\`ve remembered she threw me into a wall so…
Charlotte: How long are you planning on sustaining this?
Lydia: As long as it takes. Until she breaks completely. Until she either drops out or gets expelled. It is up to her.
Beretta: And Aiden's okay with being used?
Lydia: Aiden thinks I’m helping him move on. He doesn’t know I’m taking everything I can to put in her face. He’s just a means to an end.
Dinah: You're diabolical. I love it!
Lydia: She took something from me. Now I’m taking everything from her.
I stare at the screenshot, reading it three times to confirm that I am interpreting it right.
“She’s using him,” I say numbly. “To hurt me.”
"Yeah," Freddy confirms. "And he doesn’t have a clue."
“Do the brothers know?” The question comes out automatically.
“We don’t know,” July says. “We only just found out. But Malia—” She waits until I meet her eyes. “This proves what we’ve been saying. This isn’t your fault. This is coordinated, calculated harassment. You were the whole time being targeted, they’ve been coming after you from the start.”
I am supposed to feel something. Vindication maybe. Anger. Validation that I’m not crazy, that there really is a conspiracy against me.
Instead I just feel tired.
“It’s not important,” I say softly.
“What? Of course it matters!” Freddy's voice rises."This is proof that—"
"Proof of what? That they don't like me? We already knew that. That they want to boot me? Also not news. That Lydia is manipulating Aiden?" I laugh bitterly. "He's a grown man. He's choosing to be with her. Deciding to post couple photos. Choosing to move on three days after calling me a mistake."
"Because he's hurt and she's preying on that—" July is saying.
"I don't care." The words come out flat. Final. "I couldn't care less about her motivations. I don’t care if it’s real, or if it’s fake, or if it’s some revenge. I just—" My voice cracks. "I just need to get through this semester. That's it. That’s all I can think about.”
July looks like she wants to argue. Freddy too. But something in my expression stops them.
"Okay," July says finally. "But we’re here. When you’re ready to stop going through this alone. We're here."
I nod, not trusting my voice.
They stay a little longer. Talk a little bit about classes, stuff about gossip on campus that doesn’t involve me. Trying to give me some semblance of normalcy. But all the while Lydia’s words keep ringing in my head.
Until she breaks completely.
I gather my books when they finally leave. Head back to my dorm. To my dorm.
Try not to think about how close to breaking I already am. Try not to acknowledge that Lydia’s plan is working like a charm. Try not to mind the fact that the person I loved is being wielded as a weapon against me.
And, above all, try not to feel anything. Because feeling means hurting. And I’m so tired of hurting.