Chapter 33: Eyes On Me

Chapter 33 : Eyes On Me

Mila’s POV

By the time lunch period started, I already knew something was wrong.

I could feel it in my chest before anyone even spoke to me.

The hallway felt louder than usual, yet strangely quiet at the same time. Lockers slammed. Shoes scraped the floor. People laughed. But it all felt far away, like I was walking underwater. Every step I took felt heavier than the last.

I held my books tightly against my chest as I walked, my shoulders stiff, my head slightly down. I didn’t know what I had done, but I knew eyes were on me.

I could feel them.

When I turned a corner, two girls stopped talking suddenly. One of them looked at me, then quickly looked away. The other didn’t even try to hide it. Her eyes scanned me from head to toe, slow and judging, like I was something she had already decided she didn’t like.

My stomach twisted.

I told myself not to panic. Not everything was about me. People always looked at people. That was normal.

But deep down, I knew this wasn’t normal.

The cafeteria doors opened, and the noise hit me all at once.

Voices. Laughter. Chairs scraping. Trays clattering.

Normally, I liked sitting alone. It gave me peace. But today, being alone felt dangerous. Like it made me an easy target.

I picked up my tray and stepped forward, then froze.

Every table felt full—not just with people, but with invisible walls.

I took a few steps, then stopped again.

That was when I heard it.

Not loud. Not shouted.

Just close enough.

“So that’s her?”

My heart skipped.

“She really came to school in his car?”

A soft laugh followed. The kind that wasn’t funny. The kind that cut.

I didn’t turn around. I didn’t need to.

I knew that voice.

Priscilla.

The girl everyone admired. The girl everyone followed. The girl who walked like the school belonged to her.

“She’s brave,” Priscilla continued calmly. “I’ll give her that.”

Another girl giggled. “Or stupid.”

My fingers tightened around my tray so hard my hands started to hurt.

I forced my feet to move.

I walked past their table without looking, my heart beating fast, my ears burning. I could feel Priscilla’s eyes on my back, steady and sharp, like she was measuring me.

I sat at the far corner of the cafeteria, alone.

I stared at my food.

I tried to eat.

I couldn’t taste anything.

The whispers didn’t stop.

They followed me.

“She thinks she belongs here now.”

“She’s nothing like Priscilla.”

“Cole has known Priscilla since forever.”

“She’s just temporary.”

One girl didn’t even whisper.

She walked past my table, slowed down, and said clearly, “You really shouldn’t compare yourself to her.”

She didn’t stop walking.

She didn’t look back.

I sat there, frozen, my throat tight, my eyes burning.

I didn’t cry.

I wouldn’t.

Not here.

The rest of the day felt like a test I didn’t remember signing up for.

In class, I couldn’t focus. Words on the board blurred together. When the teacher called on me, my voice came out quieter than I wanted it to. I felt small. Exposed.

Then it happened.

“Mila,” the teacher said. “Please stay back after class.”

My heart dropped instantly.

I stayed seated as everyone else packed their bags and left. The room emptied until it was just me and the teacher.

The door closed.

Silence filled the space.

She adjusted her glasses and looked at me carefully. Not angry. Not cold. Curious.

“There’s been a concern raised,” she said slowly.

My hands started to shake.

“About your exam paper.”

My chest tightened. My mind raced.

“I didn’t cheat,” I said quickly, panic rising. “I swear, I didn’t—”

She raised a hand gently. “I know.”

I froze.

“We reviewed everything,” she continued. “Seating. Timing. Footage. There was no wrongdoing.”

Relief hit me so hard my eyes stung.

“But,” she added, her tone serious now, “someone tried to suggest there was.”

My heart sank again.

Someone had reported me.

Someone wanted me in trouble.

I nodded silently.

“You should be careful,” she said softly. “Rumors spread fast. Especially when attention is involved.”

Attention.

That word followed me all the way out of the classroom.

By the time the final bell rang, I was exhausted.

Not physically.

Mentally.

Emotionally.

I walked out of the building slowly, my bag heavy on my shoulder, my thoughts heavier. Students passed me in groups, laughing, talking, living their normal lives.

I felt like an outsider watching from the edge.

Then I saw him.

Cole.

He stood near the side of the courtyard, leaning against a pillar, his posture relaxed—but his eyes were sharp.

Focused.

On me.

He didn’t smile.

He didn’t wave.

He didn’t come closer.

He just watched.

For a moment, everything else faded.

The whispers. The looks. The fear.

Something in his gaze made me straighten my back without thinking.

I looked away quickly.

I didn’t want him to see how tired I felt. How close I was to breaking.

I didn’t know then that he had seen everything.

That he had heard the rumors.

That he had noticed the looks.

That he had stepped into the office quietly and shut the door behind him.

That he had made sure my name was cleared without ever mentioning me again.

I didn’t know that while Priscilla laughed confidently with her friends, Cole stood at a distance, silent and cold, his jaw tight.

Watching.

Thinking.

Protecting.

That night, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, I finally let myself breathe.

I had been scared.

I had almost folded.

But I didn’t.

And for the first time, I realized something important.

I wasn’t just fighting the school.

I was fighting for myself.

And whether he knew it or not, whether he admitted it or not—

Cole was already standing on my side.