Chapter 109 109
“He said what?” Thérèse’s eyes widened until they looked ready to tumble out of her head.
“I was about to fall,” Jacqueline began, still half-embarrassed at the memory. “He caught my arm to steady me and said, ‘Careful.’” She mimicked his exact tone low, clipped, unexpectedly firm.
“Wow. So he’s not mute after all,” Fanny remarked dryly.
Jacqueline nodded, heat creeping up her neck. She felt like an absolute fool. All the nonsense she had babbled in front of him assuming he couldn’t speak, couldn’t hear. God. He wasn’t mute. Which meant he wasn’t deaf either. Why did she always manage to humiliate herself in brand-new, creative ways?
“You have no idea how much rubbish I’ve said to him,” she muttered, tugging open her locker and pulling out the books she needed for her next class.
“Fantastic,” Thérèse said absentmindedly, inspecting her nails. “So what happened next?”
“He steadied me… then stepped away like I was a cactus about to stab him. And then he just walked off.” Jacqueline sighed, slamming the locker shut. “I don’t even know how to talk to him. He’s just… strange.”
“Drop it, Jacqueline. Accept defeat,” Gilles teased, wiggling his brows.
“In your dreams,” she shot back, scoffing.
“This is getting dull,” Thérèse murmured.
Before Jacqueline could retort, a group of jocks approached them, loud and self-assured. At their center was Charles their team captain.
“What’s up, Gilles?” Charles greeted, clapping him lightly on the shoulder. Unfortunately for Jacqueline, Charles also happened to be very interested in her.
And why wouldn’t he be admired? He had the looks sharp jaw, easy smile, tall frame built from hours of training. Girls practically orbited him. He was a senior, well-known across campus, charming without even trying.
“Hey, Jacqueline.” His smile turned softer when it reached her.
She returned it, giving a small wave. “Hi.”
“How’ve you been?” he asked, one brow lifting slightly. He had asked her that exact same question two days ago.
“I’m good. You?” she replied politely.
“I’m good.” He hesitated only a second. “Are you free tonight?”
Thérèse nudged Jacqueline’s elbow, nearly making her jump.
“I uh Mathieu and I have to attend a party. A close friend of Dad’s,” she blurted, grabbing the first excuse that came to mind.
“Oh.” Charles rubbed the back of his neck, a little sheepish. It made him look unexpectedly adorable.
“Maybe some other time,” he offered.
“Yeah, sure,” she said, flashing him a bright smile, a faint blush warming her cheeks.
He nodded and walked off with his group, and the second they were out of earshot, her friends stared at her as though she had just committed a felony.
“Don’t tell me you’re into him?” Gilles grimaced.
“Shut up, Gilles.” She rolled her eyes.
“You’re single. Why not just date the poor guy? He’s clearly crazy about you. I see zero issues,” Thérèse said, arching a brow.
“Funny coming from someone who’s also single,” Jacqueline muttered.
“Oh please. If a guy like Charles were head over heels for me? Babe, I’d date him immediately,” Thérèse declared just as Laurent joined them.
“So what’s the update?” Laurent asked, glancing at Jacqueline.
“Seriously? Do you all have nothing better to do than obsess over that stupid bet?” she snapped.
“It’s boring,” Thérèse insisted. “Where’s the fun Jacqueline? Do something. Pull a stunt. Make him react. Make him talk.”
The mischievous glint in her eyes was contagious.
And suddenly an idea sparked.
A slow, wicked smile spread across Jacqueline’s face.
“Of course, darling. Just wait and watch.”
She slipped into her usual seat in class. Moments later, Mr. Frosty himself Damien walked in and took the seat beside her without sparing her so much as a glance.
What are you, a god or something? So much attitude, she fumed internally, rolling her eyes.
The professor entered shortly after, and the lecture began.
Halfway through, Jacqueline rose abruptly from her seat.
“Stop, or I’m telling the professor!” she declared sharply, glaring at Damien.
The professor paused mid-sentence. Every head in the room turned toward them. Perfect. An audience.
Mr. Frosty didn’t even look at her.
This level of indifference should be illegal.
“What’s the matter, Miss Jacqueline?” the professor asked calmly.
“Sir,” she began, her voice trembling with expertly faked distress, “Mr. Damien keeps pressuring me to give him my marketing assignment. I worked so hard on it. How could I just hand it over?”
Gilles’s jaw dropped. He was barely containing his laughter. Fanny slapped her own forehead, shaking her head in disbelief.
The professor’s expression hardened. “Mr. Ruiz, what is this behavior?”
Damien slowly lifted his gaze from his book.
His olive-green eyes locked with Jacqueline’s hazel-brown ones and for a split second, her breath caught. There was nothing flustered about him. Nothing guilty.
Just cool intensity.
Without a word, he reached into his bag, pulled out a file, and dropped it onto his desk with a quiet but deliberate thud.
“My assignment,” he said, voice deep and icy.
The professor blinked, clearly taken aback by the sheer force in his tone.
Jacqueline felt her stomach plummet.
“Well then,” the professor said, turning back to her. “Miss Jacqueline, may I see the assignment he was supposedly trying to copy?”
Her fingers curled at her sides.
She hadn’t even done it.
Brilliant.
Silence stretched.
“Miss Jacqueline,” the professor’s patience snapped. “Detention. Immediately.”
Oh, crap.
She shot Damien a glare. He was already watching her now, one brow faintly raised in quiet triumph.
Bloody hell.
She stormed out and later found herself sitting alone in an empty classroom while her friends were undoubtedly laughing over lunch in the cafeteria.
Humiliation burned in her chest.
She had wanted to make him speak.
He had spoken.
And it had landed her in detention.
It would have been better if he’d stayed silent.
Mr. Frosty: one. Jacqueline: zero.
But the game wasn’t over.
Oh no.
He thought he could outplay her? He had no idea who he was dealing with.
Her anger simmered into something sharper determination.
“Who’s going to save you from my pranks now, Mr. Frosty?” she murmured with a dangerous smirk.
This wasn’t defeat.
It was the beginning of war.