Chapter 62 The One Who Showed Up

Chapter 62 The One Who Showed Up
Dalton frowned the moment the lunch bell rang. Thelma was right there in front of him, just like she’d been that morning. Gustav and Blake watched her approach, with their faces showing a mix of annoyance and concern.

"Afternoon," Thelma beamed.

"I thought I told you to leave me alone," Dalton snapped, pushing himself up from under the tree and heading toward the cafeteria.

Thelma kept pace with him, her smile unfazed. "I'll do whatever I want, thanks. You're not my dad, so I don't have to listen to you."

"Right, which is why you should just leave." He shoved her shoulder, sending her stumbling into a nearby student. 

Blake and Gustav trailed behind them, keeping a safe distance.

The push didn't break Thelma's stride. She bounced right back to his side, still grinning. "Can't keep your hands off me, huh?" She reached for his forearm, but Dalton yanked it away.

"Don't touch me," he growled. Glancing over his shoulder at his friends, he added, "I'm going to find Mayzie. Keep her away from me."

When Thelma tried to sprint after him, Gustav caught her by the arm. "Leave him alone. You're not going to change his mind."

She pulled free and took off anyway. Keeping her distance, she trailed Dalton as he headed up a set of stairs. Peeking around the concrete wall, she spotted Mayzie standing near the garden railing with a phone to her ear.

"Alright, bye. Love you too," Mayzie said, ending the call. She turned to pick up her bag and gasped, startled by Dalton standing right there.

"Who was that?" he demanded, his voice low and heavy.

Mayzie smoothed out her posture, brushing off the sudden spike of fear. "Don't sneak up on people like that."

"Who were you talking to?"

"Does it matter?" She raised an eyebrow. "It's my phone, and you said I could make personal calls."

Dalton's jaw tightened. "I asked a question. Give me an answer."

"It's none of your business. Why do you even care?"

"You just told someone you love them, and I want to know who," he said, snatching her backpack and tossing it over his shoulder. "You're my assistant. Running around with the wrong crowd reflects badly on me."

"It won't reflect badly on you, don't worry."

"Let me be the judge of that."

She shook her head. "No. You just have to trust me."

Dalton opened his mouth to argue, but stopped himself. He gave a sharp nod. "Fine. I'll trust you." He turned and started back down the stairs.

Mayzie stood frozen, caught off guard by how easily he’d given in and by the fact that he’d actually mentioned trust. Her shock wore off the second she realized he was walking away with her bag.

"Hey! Give that back!" She hurried down the steps after him.

Neither of them noticed Thelma ducked down right beside the staircase, missing her by mere inches.

Mayzie caught up and grabbed her bag, yanking hard, but Dalton kept an iron grip on the strap. "Give it back!" she demanded.

"No. Come on, I'm buying you lunch."

"I don't want you to buy me lunch! I brought my own!" She kept pulling, occasionally slapping at his hands to loosen his grip.

"You're really cranky today, you know that?" Dalton snapped, ripping the bag out of her hands.

The sudden loss of resistance sent Mayzie tumbling onto the grass. "Jerk!" she yelled, sitting back on her heels and brushing dirt off her palms. When she stood up, she saw dark grass stains on her jeans. "Great. Just great."

"You've worn worse," Dalton smirked.

She lunged to grab her bag, but Dalton held it up out of reach. Every time she swapped sides to grab it, he switched hands, teasing her just out of range. Frustrated, Mayzie shoved both hands into his chest. Dalton lost his balance and landed flat on his back in the grass, pulling the backpack tightly against his chest like a shield.

Mayzie dropped onto her knees right on top of him, trying to wrestle it free. One arm reached over his shoulder while the other hooked under his side. "Give it back!"

"No!" he yelled back, turning his head... only to find her face just inches from his. The sudden closeness hit them both at once. Mayzie froze, her breath catching. For a second, neither of them moved.

Then, Mayzie huffed and pulled back, sitting on her heels. She looked off to the side to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. "Give me the bag, Dalton. It isn't funny."

"Only if you eat lunch with me," he said, his arms still locked firmly around it.

"You're probably squishing my food anyway. Fine," she sighed. She stood up and offered him a hand, pulling him to his feet.

From her hiding spot, Thelma watched them closely. She couldn't help but notice that Dalton hadn't complained at all when Mayzie touched him, even though he’d practically yelled at her for doing the exact same thing minutes ago.

"Now give me my—"

"I've got it," Dalton said, slinging the strap over his shoulder as he started walking.

"I can carry my own bag!" She tugged at it from behind.

"Stop being so stubborn and let me carry it!"

"If there were a real gentleman around, I would! You're just using my bag as a leash so I don't walk away!"

"I could always carry you like last time."

Mayzie instantly let go, her cheeks warming as her eyes dropped to the ground. "That won't be necessary."

Dalton grinned. "Good, because you're heavy." He reached down and caught her wrist. "Come on, we don't have all day."

Mayzie looked down at his grip. As they walked toward the cafeteria, his fingers slid down, wrapping comfortably around her hand. She glanced up at him. He didn't seem to care at all that other students were staring. He was always complaining about being seen with her around campus, yet he never actually made an effort to stay away. A small smile touched her lips as she realized he didn't hate it nearly as much as he pretended to.

Behind them, Thelma trailed quietly, shaking her head. Her job was getting harder by the minute, and she needed to find a new way to force herself into the picture. Inside the cafeteria, Dalton practically shoved Mayzie into a seat across from Blake and Gustav before walking off to grab their food without a word.

"Look who's back," Blake chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah," Mayzie mumbled.

Gustav tapped Blake's arm and gestured toward the doors. Mayzie turned to see Thelma walking in, scanning the surroundings.

"I didn't think Ember and Thelma were rich enough to go here," Mayzie remarked.

"Neither did I," Gustav said, glancing at Blake, who just shrugged.

"Why do you guys care that she's here anyway?" Mayzie asked.

"She's obsessed with Dalton," Gustav explained. "He keeps telling her to back off. Apparently, she cornered him back on the island, too. Tried to force herself on him."

Mayzie raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Blake laughed. "Why do you sound so shocked?"

"For starters, I can't imagine anyone successfully forcing Dalton to do anything. And second, I can't imagine anyone actually liking him. Have you two noticed he's a total asshole?"

"Am I?" Dalton set a food tray down on the table.

"Yes," Mayzie said without missing a beat as he sat next to her. Blake and Gustav hid their smirks.

"You have a guest, Dalton," Blake said, nodding toward Thelma's direction.

"I see her. Don't look over there, she'll take it as an invitation."

Mayzie raised her voice with a grin. "Hey, Thelma!"

"What are you doing?" Dalton hissed under his breath.

Thelma walked over, looking hesitant. "Hi."

Mayzie patted the empty seat next to her. "Sit here, we can share. Dalton ordered way too much food anyway."

Thelma slowly sat down, sliding her bag onto the floor. "I don't really know anyone here yet, and I didn't realize how expensive the food was."

"How'd you manage to transfer?" Mayzie asked, passing her a fork. "This school is too expensive."

Thelma faltered for a second. "Um... my dad has connections."

Dalton narrowed his eyes at her answer, clearly unimpressed. Mayzie didn't notice and began cutting into her meal, placing a piece on a clean plate for Thelma.

Thelma cleared her throat, painfully aware of the stares coming from surrounding tables. "You two must be pretty close, huh? More than just boss and assistant."

"What makes you say that?" Mayzie asked around a bite.

"You're always around one of them. This morning you were with the twins."

Beside her, Mayzie felt Dalton tense up.

"I wasn't really with them," Mayzie clarified. "They were kind of just following me. How did you know that?"

"Passed you near the main gate," Thelma said, gaining her confidence back. Blake and Gustav suddenly found their food fascinating, clearly wanting out of the conversation, while Dalton sat next to Mayzie, practically radiating anger. "So... are you really just his assistant?"

Mayzie paused mid-sip of her water. "Pardon?"

"You two just seem a lot closer than boss and assistant. I was wondering if you were actually dating..."

Mayzie swallowed quickly and waved a hand. "No, we're not—"

"As if I'd ever date someone as poor and plain as her," Dalton cut in sharply.

Mayzie turned her head slowly to look at him. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You're poor and plain. Just like her," he added, tossing a cold glance at Thelma.

"If I remember correctly — and I do — I was the one who turned you down," Mayzie snapped.

Dalton scoffed. "Turned me down? I was messing with you. Who'd actually want a girl like you? Anyone who takes you in is just going to use you and throw you away. You're just—" He froze. The words caught in his throat as he remembered Mayzie crying about being abandoned, and what Arking had told him about her past.

Mayzie didn't argue. She quietly grabbed her backpack, pushed her chair back, and walked straight out of the cafeteria.

"Damn it!" Dalton muttered, scrambling out of his seat. "Wait!" He sprinted after her, catching up to her near the courtyard. He reached out and grabbed her arm.

Mayzie yanked herself free, her eyes burning. "You are unbelievable! How could you use something like that against me?" She spun around to walk away.

He grabbed her arm again, his tone completely changing. "I forgot. I swear I forgot. I would never say that on purpose to hurt you. I'm sorry." A few students lingering near the courtyard doors stopped to watch the scene unfold.

"Just leave me alone!" Mayzie tore her arm away again. "I am so sick of this!"

She hurried away, heading back toward the quiet staircase where she’d been earlier. Dalton followed at a distance. When he turned the corner, he found her sitting on the steps, holding her phone, breathing heavily as she fought back tears.

"I'm sorry," Dalton said softly, stepping into view. "I spoke before I thought."

"Whatever," she murmured, staring at her screen. "It's not like you're wrong anyway."

He walked over and sat on the step right below her. "It is wrong. And stop putting yourself down, it's not a good look."

"I'm not trying to look good for anyone." She looked down at him.

"Clearly, considering how you used to dress," he smirked, tossing in a light shudder.

Mayzie cracked a tiny smile despite herself. "Jerk."

Dalton smiled back, though it quickly faded into something more thoughtful. "My parents only show up maybe twice a year," he said quietly, looking out toward the garden. "Work is always their priority. They're fine people, I guess, but they didn't want me coming to New York with them. Said staying here was better for me. Growing up, nannies came and went because they couldn't deal with my temper. The only constant was Madeline."

Mayzie stayed quiet, listening closely.

"When I was thirteen, she disappeared for a whole year. Nobody told me where she went. I just had this horrible, empty feeling every day, like the only person who cared about me had walked out without a word. Turns out she was just really sick, and she came back once she recovered."

He turned to look up at her. "I'm guessing that year I went through... is how you feel all the time. Empty, wondering why people just up and leave. Am I wrong?"

Mayzie slowly shook her head.

"Waking up and finding her gone was the worst thing that ever happened to me," he added. "She told me later she didn't say goodbye because she didn't want to make me worry, but honestly, leaving without saying anything was so much worse."

"No one said goodbye to me either," Mayzie said quietly, staring at her phone.

"Who were you about to call?" he asked softly.

"Just someone who could distract me from all this headache," she sighed. "But right as I picked up the phone, I realized there was really only one person who could actually help."

"Were they busy?"

"No," she said, looking right at him. "They showed up before I even had the chance to press the dial."

Dalton's face flushed slightly, though a faint smirk returned. "Well, don't make a habit of it. I'm not your therapist."

Mayzie nudged his arm with her foot. "Right. I'm the therapist, you're the crazy one. Let's not mix up our roles."

"I'm the crazy one?" he asked as she stood up and started walking down the stairs. He quickly scrambled up to follow her.

"Losing your mind over cold eggs and picking fights every five minutes? Sounds pretty crazy to me."

"The eggs wouldn't be cold if you weren't moving like a snail!"

"Oh, please. You're the one who spends two hours in front of the mirror styling whatever mess is on top of your head."

"Still better than that granda school librarian braid you always wear."