Father:You've made your choice. Don't expect me to clean up the mess when this little rebellion of yours implodes.
Father:And stay away from those girls. This is your last warning before things get really nasty.
My jaw clenches as I read it again. Those girls. Like Tiff and Ella are props in some game. He’s treating them as though they're obstacles to be removed rather than people I—
The truth hits me before I can finish the thought.
People I care about. People I want to know. People who deserve better than what my family put them through.
I delete the message without responding and shove my phone into my pocket.
No more playing by his rules. No more letting him dictate my life. I walked away from everything for this—for the chance to be someone different.
Someone worthy of the girl waiting for me on the other side of campus.
My heart's hammering against my ribs, a nervous energy I can't shake. This is it. My one shot to explain everything. Tomake her understand that I'm not the enemy, even if my last name says otherwise.
Students pass by in clusters, laughing and talking, completely oblivious to the fact that my entire world is about to either crack open or shatter completely.
And then I see her.
For a moment, I just stand there, watching Tiff from a distance. She's beautiful in the most unassuming way—no makeup, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, wearing jeans and a faded sweatshirt that's probably seen better days. She's sitting on a bench, looking through a textbook, her brow furrowed in concentration, completely unaware of my presence.
This is my chance, to explain everything. To make her understand why my parents are coming after Ella. To give her a reason to trust me, even just a little.
I approach slowly, not wanting to startle her. She looks up when I'm a few feet away, her expression instantly guarded.
“Hey,” I say softly as I approach.
She looks up, closing her textbook but keeps her finger between the pages to mark her place. “You're on time. I'm surprised.”
“I can be punctual when it matters.” I hover awkwardly, not sure if I should sit. “Thanks for texting me.”
She gestures to the space beside her. “Sit. I want to talk to you.”
I settle on the bench, careful to leave space between us. Her expression is guarded, but she asked me to come, which has to mean something.
“Where's Ella today?” I ask, hoping to start with something neutral.
Her posture stiffens immediately. “None of your business.”
That wasn’t fucking neutral, you idiot.
“Right. Sorry.” I run a hand through my hair, frustration building in my chest. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Her lips are pursed as she glares at me.
Am I sweating? I certainly feel like I am.
Fuck, this is worse than talking to Honey. I need to get my shit together.
“Tiff,” I start, clearing my throat. “I know you have no reason to trust me. I get it. I was an asshole four years ago, and my family has been nothing but a nightmare for you ever since.”
She says nothing, but her silence feels like confirmation.
“But there's something you need to know,” I continue. “About my parents. About why they're so hell-bent on getting rid of Ella.”
That gets her attention. Her head turns sharply toward me, eyes narrowing. “What are you talking about?”