Chapter 62 Like A Toy
Mia’s POV
I didn’t go to the cafeteria. I hadn’t planned to eat, anyway.
Instead, I found myself tucked into the far corner of the library, between two dusty shelves no one ever touched. Sunlight filtered through the high windows in soft golden slants, catching the shimmer of my hair and the silent tremble of my hands as I turned the pages of a book I wasn’t really reading.
My tray was still sitting inside my locker, untouched. Forgotten.
My stomach ached, but not from hunger. It was a different kind of emptiness. The kind no food could ever fill.
Around me, the world kept moving like nothing had changed. The bell had rung. People laughed in the hallways. Stacy had probably already claimed her place at the center of every conversation by now. The Powerful Five? More like the Fake Four Plus One, and somehow I had become nothing more than a ghost in my own life.
I should’ve cried. I wanted to. But no tears came. Just that tight, burning pressure behind my eyes. Just that voice in my head whispering, Don’t let them win.
So I didn’t. I sat still, my chin held high, my hands calm, but my chest felt like it was caving in. Slowly. Quietly. Like a house collapsing behind closed doors.
I hated myself for remembering things.
The way Liam used to lean closer when he whispered a joke just for me. The way his fingers brushed mine under the table. The way I used to believe, so foolishly, that when he looked at me, it meant something.
I hated that my lips still tingled when I thought of our kiss. I hated how safe I’d felt with him. How real it all seemed.
But most of all, I hated that he hadn’t even tried to explain.
No note, just silence. Like I never mattered.
And still, part of me wanted to believe he was hurting too. That he didn’t choose this. That something was forcing him to stay beside Stacy. That deep down, he regretted everything.
But hope was dangerous. And I had already bled enough.
I closed the book gently and leaned my head back against the shelf, my eyes fluttering shut.
Just five more minutes to be quiet. To feel it all before I had to stand again, walk again, and pretend like nothing was broken.
Because I’d survived worse. And even if it tore me in half, I’d survive this too.
My heartbreak didn’t destroy me. It sharpened me.
In the days that followed, while others whispered and watched, I buried myself in textbooks, not daydreams. My notebooks filled with color coded highlights. My schedule was packed with study sessions, quiet library hours, and late nights spent rewriting notes by moonlight. I no longer waited for messages. No longer glanced toward the door when it opened. No longer hoped.
Not even for Liam. I refused to look at him now. Even when I felt his presence like static in the air. Even when his laugh, that familiar, dimpled one, made my chest ache. Even when I caught the scent of his cologne in the hallway and had to press my lips together just to keep from turning around.
He was one of them now. The elite. The chosen. The untouchable.
And me? I was just the girl he forgot.
But if heartbreak had torn me open, ambition stitched me back together.
Every quiz, every report, I nailed them all. My teachers were constantly impressed. They praised my discipline, my clarity, my drive. But only Daniel knew the truth. That it wasn’t brilliance fueling me.
It was pain. The kind that quietly burned under my skin, unseen but relentless.
And Daniel stayed. He walked me to class. Waited outside the library. Missed soccer practice just to keep me company. And last week, he even turned down the captain’s badge of the team he’d dreamed of leading since freshman year.
All for me.
When I found out, my throat tightened.
“You gave up captain?” I asked one afternoon, as we sat beneath the shade of an old tree on the far end of campus.
Daniel shrugged like it meant nothing. “I just want to spend more time with you.”
I looked at him. At the quiet steadiness in his eyes. At the boy who stayed when everyone else turned away.
“Dan,” I started slowly. “If you’re still trying to court me, I…”
But he gently cut me off, shaking his head.
“Mia,” he said softly, a sad smile pulling at his lips. “Don’t worry. I’m not expecting anything from you.”
His eyes flicked down to the grass, then back to me, vulnerable but calm.
“I just want you to know you’re not alone. That you still have someone who sees you, even when the world doesn’t. Yeah, I wish I could be your boyfriend. I won’t lie about that. But…” he paused, the truth catching in his throat, “I was too late. And I know he still holds that place in your heart, whether you admit it or not.”
My chest clenched, and my gaze dropped. My fingers curled in my lap.
“Daniel,” I whispered, “I’m not waiting for Liam.”
He stayed quiet, listening.
“Whatever we had, it’s over. I don’t like him anymore.” My voice wavered, and even I heard the lie hiding inside it. But I forced myself to keep going. “We belong in two different worlds. I’m not a fool. I know better than to hope now.”
I looked at him, guilt and gratitude dancing across my face.
“And I’m not ready to be in a relationship. Not with anyone.”
Daniel nodded, his smile smaller this time. Sadder. But still genuine.
He reached out and took my hand, warm and careful. No pressure in his grip. Just presence.
“Then I’ll be here as your friend,” he said. “No pressure. No expectations. Just someone who’ll remind you how much you matter every day, until you start to believe it again.”
And for the first time in days, I let myself smile.
Not because I was healed, not because the pain was gone. But because someone stayed.
That night, I sat in bed wrapped in my blanket like armor. The lights were off, except for the soft golden glow of my desk lamp casting shadows across the worn out pages of my notebook.
I tried to study, flipping through formulas and notes, but the words refused to stay. My mind was too loud. Too full of moments I kept pushing back. Daniel’s smile. His warmth. His patience. And Liam. His absence. The ghost of a touch I no longer expected but couldn’t forget.
I genuinely laughed today. I knew I did. So why did it still feel like my chest hadn’t loosened?
I reached for my phone, not to check messages, just for the comfort of holding it. But the moment the screen lit up, my breath hitched.
A single text from Liam.
I stared at it like it wasn’t real. He hadn’t messaged me in days. Not since everything fell apart. Not since he chose silence and Stacy and status over me.
My thumb hovered, shaking. Then, with my heart pounding like it wanted out of my ribs, I tapped the notification.
“Are you okay?”
Just three words. But they shattered something inside me.
Because he had no right to ask, not after leaving me behind. And still, he somehow knew exactly how to find the softest part of me.
My fingers trembled as I typed a reply, then deleted it. Typed again. Backspaced everything.
What could I even say?
That I was fine?
I wasn’t.
That I missed him?
I did.
That I hated him?
Sometimes.
But not enough to erase the way he used to look at me like I was the only thing that mattered.
And now he wanted to know if I was okay?
I set my phone down face down on my desk and stared up at the ceiling, my eyes stinging with unshed tears.
No, I wasn’t okay. But he hurt me, and he had no right to ask me that stupid, obvious question. I gripped my phone tightly and promised myself I would never let him do this to me again.
I would never give him another chance to make me feel small. Like I was just a toy he could replace anytime he wanted.