Chapter 81
Her face instantly darkened as she silently struggled against me.
Suddenly, she jerked her hand away with such force that my fingertips went numb for a moment.
A vicious smile twisted at the corner of her mouth, her bubble gum snapping loudly: "You dare lay hands on me? Do you know I've trained in taekwondo? Mess with me, and I'll beat you so bad your own mother won't recognize you."
"Who sent you?" I didn't back down, my gaze cold as I looked at her, repeating each word deliberately, "Was it Amelia? Or someone else?"
Someone as smart as Amelia - how could she possibly send such a clueless person over?
But she definitely knew Amelia, which was strange.
"What's it to you who sent me?"
A flash of panic crossed her eyes, quickly covered by arrogance. She stepped back half a step, looking down at me from above, her cold-toned manicured nail poking my shoulder.
"Sophia, I already told you, stay out of my business. Who do you think you are? How dare you meddle in my affairs?"
"Do you know my mom doesn't care about my affairs at all?"
I shook my head: "I'm warning you not to get too close to Amelia, or you won't end well."
She rolled her eyes dramatically: "Why should I listen to you? I'll get as close to her as I want, I..."
She realized something and covered her mouth: "I'm not close to her, I..."
I smiled slightly: "So you are her friend."
"So what if I am? Now that you know, what are you going to do about it?" She was incredibly arrogant, blowing a perfectly round bubble.
I chuckled softly: "I'm not going to do anything."
She looked at me with furrowed brows, made a dismissive sound, and walked into the classroom. Her back was bold and rebellious, her whole body radiating a "stay away" vibe.
I pinched my cool fingertips, standing in place.
Has Amelia gotten stupid lately?
Amelia doesn't dare confront me openly, so she finds a clown to annoy me.
I got some water and walked back to the classroom. As soon as I sat down, Yasmin leaned over, her voice extremely low: "Sophia, who is that girl? She looks like trouble. I think I saw you two talking earlier, but neither of you looked happy."
"I don't know who she is either." I opened my textbook, my fingertips sliding across the pages. "But I can say for sure, she deliberately came looking for trouble with me."
As soon as I finished speaking, that girl walked over to the empty seat next to me, carrying her bag, and slammed it down on the desk.
The bag hit so hard that the desk shook.
Students around us were sneaking glances, no one speaking, all waiting to watch the drama unfold.
"Liliana Smith."
The professor walked in: "Come with me to pick up some books."
Liliana.
So that's her name.
I repeated it silently in my mind - it sounded a bit familiar, but I couldn't remember where I'd heard it.
Her last name is Smith. Could she be James's sister?
I'd never heard that James had a sister, and I'd never seen her before.
Probably just a coincidence.
Liliana lazily responded and got up to follow the professor out to get the books.
She came back carrying a pile of books and threw them forcefully onto the desk. The books were scattered, and one or two hit me.
She didn't apologize at all. She didn't even glance at me, just leaned back in her chair, sat down, and crossed her legs.
When the professor came in to lecture, she played with a pen in her hand, either looking down at her phone or deliberately making noise, and from time to time bumping my arm with her elbow.
Thinking we were in class, I held back again and again.
When she bumped me again, I grabbed her arm and looked up at her: "Are you done yet?"
Liliana raised her eyes, full of mockery, chewing her gum as she mumbled: "I didn't do it on purpose. Why are you being so mean?"
"You did it on purpose. I saw you, you've been deliberately bumping into Sophia." Yasmin couldn't help but speak up for me, her small face tense. "We're all classmates, there's no need to target Sophia like this, right?"
Liliana's gaze swept over Yasmin, and she sneered, her tone harsh: "I'm talking to her. What's it to you? Is it your turn to butt in, fatty?"
Yasmin's face instantly flushed red, her hand holding the pen trembling. She wanted to say something more, but I reached out and tugged at her sleeve, shaking my head.
I looked at Liliana, my tone flat but without any warmth: "If you want to give me trouble, come at me directly. Don't hurt innocent classmates."
"I like collective punishment. Anyone and anything related to you, I don't like them; I'll curse at them all. What can you do about it?"
Liliana raised her eyebrows and swept my pen off the corner of the desk. The black pen rolled far away. "Sorry, my hand slipped."
I grabbed her arm: "Pick it up."
Liliana struggled: "I won't!"
I applied more pressure.
She winced in pain and gave in: "Fine, I'll pick it up, okay?"
She picked up the pen, looking at me with surprise.
Probably because she thought I looked so gentle and weak, yet she, someone who had trained in taekwondo, couldn't break free from my grip.
I put away my pen, didn't look at her, and ignored her scrutinizing gaze.
Seeing I wasn't paying attention to her, she snorted coldly, looked away, and stopped bothering me.
But over the next few days, Liliana seemed determined to antagonize me, finding all sorts of ways to trouble me.
I'd go to the library, and just as I'd claimed a spot and sat down, she'd come over with her bag and plop her books down across from me.
She'd either flip through books loudly or deliberately raise her voice when taking phone calls, making it impossible for me to study.
I'd change seats, and she'd follow, sticking to me like glue.
I'd go to the cafeteria to get food, and she'd walk past me with her tray, always managing to "accidentally" bump me so the soup in my tray spilled out and splashed on me.
She'd just laugh loudly and casually toss out an "sorry."
Even in class, she could find opportunities to disturb me - either knocking my things over or deliberately bumping me when I was writing.
None of this actually hurt me; they were just annoying little tricks.
Yasmin would get so angry at Liliana every time, saying she wanted to report Liliana's behavior to the professor, but I stopped her each time.
"There's no need." I wiped at the soup stains on my pants, saying calmly, "She just wants to make me angry. I won't give her the satisfaction."
Yasmin looked at me, her face full of sympathy: "But doesn't it make you angry and annoyed when she harasses you like this?"
"What's the point of having those emotions? The only one who gets hurt is me." I pulled at the corner of my mouth. "With people like this, ignoring them is the best approach."
I kept ignoring Liliana, and eventually, even she seemed to find it boring, and her little tricks stopped.
I thought maybe she was planning some big move, but all the way until the end of the week, there was no activity from her.
Friday evening, I came out of a print shop off campus and was walking at the entrance to the alley behind the school when I heard sounds of arguing and shoving.
Two of the streetlights in the alley were broken, making it dimly lit.
I stopped in my tracks and looked up to see Liliana cornered against a wall by three girls from outside school with colorful dyed hair. Her back was pressed against the mottled wall, her face pale.