Chapter 12 *

Chapter 12 Chapter 12 No More the Pushover
Angelina's POV

Seeing I didn't respond, Emma was getting impatient. She frowned, speaking to me in a demanding tone:

"Hey, Aria? I'm talking to you! Did you scramble your brain when you jumped last Friday? Where's the money?"

I knew very well that in Emma's eyes, I was nothing more than her personal ATM. When she needed money, she'd become my so-called "friend"; when she didn't need money, she wouldn't even glance my way.

What's more ironic was that the old me had been a fool, giving her however much she asked for every time. This created Emma's habit of constantly borrowing money from me under the guise of being classmates. Even worse, I knew Emma privately considered me the biggest idiot in the world for always lending her money.

Talk about no good deed going unpunished.

My hearing was exceptionally sharp. The whispered gossip from several girls in class reached my ears as clearly as if someone had put a phone on speaker, catching every word:

"Look, Emma 'forgot her money' again today. She borrows from people every week but never pays it back. Tsk, what thick skin."

"I didn't know she was like that before, so I lent her money too. Ten bucks. Still haven't gotten it back."

"The only person dumb enough to keep lending Emma money after knowing what she's like is Aria, that idiot!"

Hearing these words, I pretended to stay calm and went along with Emma, answering: "How much do you need?"

I could feel Emma's relief. She must be thinking: Sure enough, an idiot is still an idiot. People don't change.

"Twenty bucks," Emma said immediately.

The girls who'd just been gossiping about Emma heard my words and all shook their heads, definitely thinking to themselves: Of course, only an idiot like Aria would agree to lend her money again.

But this time, I was going to shock everyone.

I smiled coldly and said: "Sure. Get on your knees, kiss my shoes, and tell everyone here what a pathetic leech you are. Then we'll talk."

The moment those words left my mouth, everyone present was completely dumbstruck! I watched their shocked expressions, feeling a wave of satisfaction.

"What?" Emma stood frozen in place, taking a long time to recover from her shock.

I stood lazily by the classroom door, watching her as I continued: "What are you saying? You're actually telling me to kneel down for you?"

It took Emma a good few seconds to find her voice. When she finally spoke, disbelief dripped from every word: "Seriously? It's just a few bucks, Aria. Why are you being such a bitch about it?"

Seemed like she still couldn't recover from the shock that cowardly Aria actually dared to speak to her this way.

I crossed my arms lazily, deciding to completely change my image in front of my classmates. I curved my lips and retorted clearly:

"A bitch? Nah. See, here's the thing, Emma. You keep coming to me like I'm your mom, asking for handouts. But last time I checked, I didn't give birth to you. So if you want me to keep funding your broke ass, then yeah—get on your knees and show some gratitude. Otherwise, get the fuck out of my face."

My voice was strong and steady, watching Emma rendered speechless. The classmates were all frozen in place like wooden chickens.

Emma's mouth opened and closed several times, but no words came out. Her face cycled through shades of red and white as she struggled to form a response. Finally, she managed to choke out: "Are you—are you fucking serious right now?"

At the end of the day, she was just an ordinary student. Emma had only ever relied on her shamelessness to bully timid classmates. She didn't have much real capability, so she quickly lowered her head in submission.

I didn't want to waste any more time on her. I stepped forward and snatched my wallet back from Emma's hands. Before returning to my seat, I reminded her:

"Return all the money you owe me by tomorrow."

With that, I started walking toward my seat. Halfway there, I suddenly turned back around, a bloodthirsty cold smile curving my lips as I locked eyes with Emma:

"I have a bad temper. Remember—be on time. Otherwise, you might... die."

This warning, tinged with a joking tone, made Emma break out in a cold sweat. She shuddered hard, her face turning pale with fright. The several girls who'd been watching this whole time also froze, looking at me in shock as I sat down in my seat.

In American high schools, seating isn't usually arranged by grades—but Ms. Wilson had her own system. She stuck the "troublemakers" and "lost causes" in the back corner, as far from her desk as possible. My seat was in the last row by the window, next to the dusty radiator that clanked and hissed all winter. The trash can wasn't far either.

But I didn't mind. After everything I'd been through in my previous life, being able to experience normal high school classes—even stuck in the worst seat—felt like a luxury.

So I actually paid attention all morning. Even though the material was laughably easy—Algebra I might as well have been basic addition for someone who'd once managed international operations and encrypted financial systems—I enjoyed it. The atmosphere. The routine. The normalcy of it all.

"Dude, Aria," Logan hissed from beside me, finally unable to take it anymore. "Why are you even trying? Your GPA's like, what, a 2.0? Just chill. Talk to me. This shit's boring as hell anyway."

He'd been watching me actually take notes all morning, and as a fellow slacker, he clearly found my sudden transformation deeply disturbing.

I glanced at Logan.

"Gulp." I heard him swallow. He must be remembering when I'd bizarrely lifted him up with my bare hands last time, still looking a bit traumatized.

"Sure, what do you want to talk about?" I said.

"Dude, why are you looking at me like you're about to murder me?" Logan laughed nervously, scratching his head. "Chill. I just wanted to know if you and Mia wanna hit up In-N-Out after school? I'm starving and I got some cash."

Mia Calloway was the original owner's only female friend. Strictly speaking, the original owner had two friends—her female friend Mia, and her male friend Logan.

The thing is, at Roseville High, being seen with a guy automatically meant something. Walk to class together? You're dating. Eat lunch at the same table? Definitely hooking up. Text each other? Might as well be married.

Original Aria had been hyper-aware of this. She'd only hang with Logan outside school—at the mall, movies, wherever—but on campus? She stuck to Mia like glue. Girls hung out with girls. Guys with guys. Cross those lines and you'd end up as gossip on everyone's Instagram story.

Logan was genuinely just a friend. But in high school, the truth didn't matter. Only what people thought they saw.

"Sure," I agreed.

"Lemme get Mia in on this," Logan said, standing up. He didn't bother walking over—just bellowed across the room: "YO, MIA! STOP DOING HOMEWORK LIKE A PSYCHO AND COME HERE! WE'RE TALKING ABOUT IMPORTANT STUFF!"

Several students laughed. Mia looked up from her notebook, rolling her eyes but smiling.

See, Mia was everything Logan and I weren't. Honor roll every semester. In all the advanced classes. She even helped grade papers for Mr. Reed sometimes. Teachers assigned her a front-row seat—not as punishment, but as a reward. Meanwhile, Logan and I were stuck in the back corner like the delinquents we were.

"Be right there!"

A girl's voice called back, bright and energetic. I glanced up to see Mia weaving through the desks toward us. She had that wholesome, girl-next-door vibe—light brown hair with natural highlights that caught the fluorescent lights, an easy smile, and the kind of genuine warmth that made people automatically like her. She was pretty in an approachable way: athletic build from being on the soccer team, minimal makeup, usually in a school hoodie and leggings. Not the Instagram-filter type of pretty, but real.

This was the original owner's only female friend—Mia Calloway.