Everly Zamora POV:
Hayes stood there, staring at my face, a confused frown pulling at his brows. The rain had stripped away my careful disguise, leaving my true features exposed. I felt naked, raw. He looked at the streaks of mascara, the smudged lines of my faded makeup.
"What is this?" he asked, his voice rough. "Some kind of... dramatic makeup?" He actually laughed, a short, dismissive sound. It was like a fresh wound.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell him everything. I wanted him to see me, truly see me. I had tried, before. I remember one night, I'd thought about showing him a picture of my real self, the one the world knew before I ran. But Karmen had called, a panic attack, and he'd rushed off, leaving me alone with my forgotten plans and a sinking feeling.
He always chose her. Always.
"Do you love me, Hayes?" I asked the words, quiet and steady, even though my insides were shaking. This was it. The final question.
He looked surprised. Then he smiled, that easy, charming smile that used to melt me. "Of course, I care about you, Everly," he said, as if it was obvious. "You' re important to me." Important. Not loved. The words hung in the air, cold and empty.
A chill ran through me, starting in my heart and spreading to my fingertips. My love, my desperate, foolish love, had been a tool. A shield for his precious Karmen. All the pain, all the fear, it was for nothing. I felt dead inside.
I managed a thin, brittle smile. "Then we're done." My voice was surprisingly strong. "I can't be in a relationship where I'm just 'important.'"
He stared, his jaw dropping a fraction. "Done? What are you talking about?"
I didn't answer. I didn't look back. I just turned and walked away, leaving him standing in the rain. Once I was alone in my room, the tears finally came, hot and furious, a torrent of all the pain I'd held inside.
The next day, I painted my face back to plain, though my hands trembled. I had to finish my exams. When the last one was over, I walked out of the hall into a strange commotion. A group of students were on their knees. They were the ones who had bullied me for being with Hayes. He stood over them, radiating power.
He saw me and walked over, a possessive hand on my arm. "They won't bother you again," he announced, a harsh satisfaction in his voice. "I made them pay."
My blood ran cold. "And why did you do that?" I asked, pulling my arm away. "You didn't do it before, when they actually hurt me."
He looked genuinely bewildered. "What do you mean?" he asked, as if my pain was an abstract concept. I remembered his fury when Karmen was upset, his calm indifference to my own suffering. He only cared about his own sense of justice, his own need to protect.
"You only care about yourself," I said, my voice flat.
His friends, who had suddenly appeared, started to chime in. "Everly, don't be ungrateful," one sneered. "Hayes just avenged you." Other students murmured agreement. "He' s a good guy, you should appreciate him."
"Ungrateful?" I gripped my hands until my nails dug into my palms. "Is it because I'm not pretty enough? Not rich enough? Is that why you think I don't deserve an equal relationship?" My voice cracked with suppressed rage. "I won't accept a love that isn't real. I won't accept being a pawn."
I turned, ready to leave, but he reached for me. "Everly, wait!"
Then, a new voice cut through the air. "Hayes! My party starts soon. Are you coming?" Karmen. She stood there, beautiful and fragile, a beacon.
I paused. Another awkward scene was the last thing I needed. Maybe going to her party would just make it easier for him to forget me. I agreed to go. Just to disappear, one last time.
