Chapter 57 Alison's Demand
(Micah POV)
The campus air felt wrong the moment I stepped outside the dorm that morning. It wasn’t the weather sunlight spilled across the courtyard like liquid gold, students laughed near the fountain, and someone blasted music from a speaker by the stairs but something inside my chest kept tightening like invisible fingers slowly closing around my ribs. My phone sat heavy in my pocket, silent now, but I could still feel the ghost of Alison’s message burning through the fabric like a brand.
Do something for me tomorrow, three simple words, three words that had turned my entire night into a nightmare.
I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, my mind replayed the screenshots she’d sent the old posts, the clipped videos, the comments that had destroyed my life once already. Seeing them again felt like being dragged back through broken glass.
My phone buzzed. I froze mid step on the walkway. Students moved around me, laughing, shoving each other playfully, completely unaware that my world was cracking open again.
Slowly, I pulled the phone out.
Alison: Meet me behind the east lecture hall. Now.
My stomach dropped so hard it felt like gravity doubled, I swallowed and started walking.
The east lecture hall sat quieter than the rest of campus. The building was older, brick walls stained darker with time, ivy climbing along the edges like it was trying to swallow the structure whole. Hardly anyone used the back entrance anymore. Which meant it was perfect for secrets.
And threats, I rounded the corner.
Alison was already there,she leaned casually against the wall, one foot crossed over the other, scrolling through her phone like she had all the time in the world. Her blonde hair glinted in the sunlight, and if someone walked past, they’d probably think she was just another pretty student waiting for class. But when her eyes lifted to mine, something cold flickered behind them. Something sharp.
“Micah,” she said sweetly. “You came.”
My throat felt dry. “You said now.”
She smiled slowly. “Good. I like when people follow instructions.”
I shoved my hands into my pockets to hide the tremor in them. “What do you want?”
Her eyes lit up like she’d been waiting for that exact question.
“Oh, nothing dramatic,” she said lightly. “Just a tiny favor.”
My heart pounded harder.
“There’s a test in Professor Hargrove’s class today,” she continued. “Pop quiz. Surprise format.”
I frowned. “So?”
She tilted her head.
“So… you’re going to make sure someone doesn’t pass it.”
The words hung in the air, my somach twisted.
“What?” I said.
She pushed herself off the wall and stepped closer, her shoes clicking softly against the pavement.
“Relax,” she said. “It’s not murder. It’s academic sabotage.”
My chest tightened.
“Who?” I asked carefully. Her lips curved.
“Lucas Rivera.”
The name hit me like a slap,Lucas was one of the quiet guys in our class. Smart, polite, always helping people with notes. He’d even lent me his calculator last week when mine died during practice.
“You want me to sabotage Lucas?” I said slowly.
Alison shrugged.
“He’s top of the class. If he tanks the quiz, my ranking improves.” My jaw clenched.
“That’s messed up.” Her expression didn’t change, Instead, she pulled her phone out and tapped the screen. Then she turned it toward me.
My lungs stopped working, it was one of the clips. The old video, the one that ruined everything.
My voice came out barely above a whisper.
“Don’t.” Alison smiled wider.
“Oh, don’t worry,” she said softly. “I’m not sending it yet.” My chest felt like it was collapsing inward.
“But I could,” she continued. “Imagine how fast this would spread now that you’re the golden athlete here.” She leaned closer.
“National tournament coming up,” she murmured. “Cameras everywhere. Press. Fans.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
“Wouldn’t it be tragic if your past went viral again?” My hands curled into fists.
“You’re sick,” I said.
“Maybe.” Her smile sharpened.
“But you’re still going to do what I asked.” I stared at her.
She tilted her head. “So… are we cooperating today?”
My stomach churned violently, if the video leaked again everything would collapse, my scholarship, the team, the small fragile life I’d started rebuilding here and Dante, no. I couldn’t let that happen. My voice felt hollow when I spoke.
“What do I have to do?” Alison’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction.
“There it is,” she said softly.
The classroom buzzed with nervous energy.
Students filled the seats, whispering about the surprise quiz Professor Hargrove had just announced, papers rustled. Chairs scraped the floor. Someone groaned dramatically from the back row. Lucas sat two seats in front of me.
He turned slightly and gave me a friendly smile.
“You ready for this?” he asked quietly. Guilt stabbed through my chest.
“Yeah,” I lied.
Professor Hargrove placed the stack of quiz papers on the desk.
“Phones away,” he announced. “Bags under chairs.”
My heart pounded, Alison sat near the window, pretending to check her nails, but every few seconds her eyes flicked toward me. Watching, waiting, the plan was simple,too simple. During the quiz, I was supposed to “accidentally” spill my water bottle onto Lucas’s paper. Ruining it, destroying his answers.
My hands shook under the desk, what the hell was I doing? Lucas leaned back slightly.
“Hey,” he whispered. “After this, you heading to training?”
I nodded stiffly. “Yeah.”
“Cool,” he said. “You’re going to crush that national tournament.”
The words twisted in my chest like a knife.
Professor Hargrove began handing out the quizzes. My breathing grew shallow, don’t do it.
But Alison’s message flashed in my mind. Screenshots, clips, evidence.
I glanced sideways, she met my eyes and slowly lifted her phone. The screen showed the video again, my stomach dropped, she mouthed two words.
Do it.
Professor Hargrove’s voice cut through the tension.
“Begin.” Pens scratched across paper.
Lucas immediately started writing, focused and calm, I stared at the water bottle on my desk.
My hands trembled, this felt wrong. Every instinct in me screamed not to do it but fear pressed heavier.
The bottle tipped slightly under my fingers.
Just a little push. That’s all it would take. I squeezed my eyes shut for a second.
Then my hand moved, the bottle tipped. Water spilled across the desk.
“Shit!” I exclaimed.
Lucas jerked back as the water flooded his paper.
Ink bled instantly.
“What the..?” he gasped.
“I’m so sorry!” I said quickly, grabbing napkins.
Professor Hargrove frowned.
“What happened?”
“Accident,” I said, my voice tight. “I knocked my bottle over.”
Lucas stared at the ruined paper in disbelief.
“Professor,” he said quietly, “my quiz...” Hargrove sighed.
“Dry it as best you can, Rivera,” he said. “No retakes.”
Lucas’s shoulders slumped, guilt crashed over me like a tidal wave. Behind us, Alison smiled.
The hallway outside the classroom felt suffocating after the quiz ended. Students poured out, complaining about the questions. Lucas walked beside me, still staring at his damp paper.
“Guess my luck ran out today,” he said with a small laugh. I couldn’t even look at him.
“I’m really sorry,” I muttered. He shrugged.
“Hey, accidents happen.” His kindness made my chest ache.
“You didn’t mean it."
If only he knew, my phone buzzed. I pulled it out slowly.
Alison: Good boy.
My stomach twisted another message appeared.
Alison: We’ll have more fun later.
My blood ran cold. More? What the hell did she mean more? Footsteps approached quickly behind me.
“Micah.” The voice made me freeze.
I turned. Max stood a few feet away, arms crossed, his eyes were sharp. Suspicious.
“How long were you standing there?” I asked.
He didn’t answer immediately, instead, he looked between me and Lucas’s ruined quiz paper. Then his gaze locked onto my face.
“You spilled water on him,” Max said slowly.
“Yeah,” I replied stiffly.
His eyes narrowed.
“Funny thing,” he continued, “I watched you do it.”
My heart skipped violently.
“What?”
“You looked right at Alison first,” he said.
My stomach dropped, Max stepped closer.
“What the hell is going on with you, Micah?” I forced a laugh that sounded fake even to me.
“It was an accident.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
The words came out hard. Sharp. Max’s voice dropped.
“I saw your hand,” he said quietly. “You pushed the bottle.”
My pulse roared in my ears.
“I didn’t...”
“Stop.”
Max grabbed my arm before I could walk away.
His grip wasn’t rough, but it was firm.
Demanding.
“You’ve been acting weird for weeks,” he said.
“And now you’re sabotaging people?”
“I’m not sabotaging anyone."
“Then explain what I saw.”
My chest tightened, I couldn’t tell him. If Alison found out, the video would spread everywhere. Max’s eyes searched my face.
“Is someone forcing you?” he asked.
I froze, for a moment, the truth almost slipped out, but Alison’s threat echoed in my head.
I pulled my arm free.
“You’re imagining things,” I said.
Max stared at me, long, hard.
“You’re a terrible liar,” he said quietly. My throat tightened.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Max’s expression darkened.
“Fine,” he said slowly. “But whatever you’re hiding?” He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“It’s going to come out eventually.” My heart pounded.
“And when it does,” he added, “I hope you’re ready.”
He turned and walked away leaving me standing there with my pulse racing and my stomach sinking deeper than ever.
My phone buzzed again, I looked down another text from Alison. Just two words, good start and beneath it you’re doing great, Micah.
My hands shook because something told me this was only the beginning and the next thing she asked for would be worse.