Chapter 11

Ariella

As we walked down the hallway toward our class, the sound of other students chattering and laughing echoed around us. Stella was unusually quiet beside me, her usual energetic demeanor replaced with something more subdued. She fidgeted with the strap of her bag, her eyes darting around as if looking for the right words to say.

“Alright, spill it,” I said, nudging her lightly with my elbow. “I can tell something’s on your mind. What’s bothering you, Stella? Just ask me already.”

She gave me a sheepish smile, biting her lip like she was trying to hold back. “I don’t know if I should. I don’t want to upset you or make things awkward...”

“Stell,” I said, stopping mid-step and turning to face her. “You’re my best friend. You can ask me anything. Just say it. What’s going on?”

She hesitated for a moment longer\, but then she sighed\, her shoulders relaxing as she finally let it out. “Okay\, fine. Are you sure about this whole ‘forget Damien’ mission? I mean... are you really\, *really* going to stop liking him?” Her tone was gentle but curious\, like she was treading carefully.

I opened my mouth to reply, but she rushed to continue. “And before you say anything, let me just clarify—I’m not asking because Damien is my brother. This has nothing to do with him being related to me. I’m asking because I care about you, Ari. You’re my best friend, and if you’re doing this for the wrong reasons or if it’s going to hurt you, I need to know.”

Her eyes softened, and her voice became firmer. “And just so you know, even if he is my brother, if he ever hurt you or did anything to make you feel like you weren’t good enough, I wouldn’t hesitate to call him out on it. He’d have to deal with me.”

Her words caught me off guard, and I felt a sudden rush of gratitude for her unwavering loyalty. She always knew how to balance being protective without crossing the line.

I gave her a big smile, one that I hoped showed just how much I appreciated her. “Stell, I know you care about me, and that means the world to me. But I promise you, I know what I’m doing. This isn’t some spur-of-the-moment decision. I’ve thought about it a lot.”

I glanced down at my hands, fidgeting slightly before continuing. “I realized that liking Damien... it’s been one-sided for a long time. He doesn’t see me that way, and honestly, that’s okay. I deserve to feel something real, something mutual, you know? Chasing after someone who doesn’t even notice me... it’s exhausting. I’m ready to let it go and focus on myself.”

Stella’s lips curved into a small, understanding smile. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, Ari. I’m proud of you for making that decision.”

“Thanks,” I said, feeling a weight lift off my chest.

She looped her arm through mine as we started walking again. “Just know I’m here for you, no matter what. And hey, if you ever feel like backtracking on this ‘forget Damien’ mission, I’ll be your reminder of why you started it in the first place. Sound good?”

I laughed softly. “Sounds perfect. And Stell?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She grinned, her usual spark returning to her eyes. “Well, lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out.”

We both laughed as we reached the classroom door, the sound of Stella’s laughter easing my nerves. But the moment I stepped inside, my heart sank. My eyes landed on the one person I had desperately hoped to avoid today—Damien Thompson.

He was sitting in his usual spot, near the window in the middle row, exuding that same effortless composure that I had come to associate with him. His posture was relaxed, one arm resting on the desk, the other lightly propping up his chin as he gazed out the window. But something was different. His features looked softer, more youthful, almost like he had stepped back in time since the last time I saw him. His dark hair, always slightly tousled, now had an almost boyish charm, the soft morning light catching the strands and making them shine faintly.

His face seemed gentler, the sharpness I remembered now replaced with an understated vulnerability. The slight curve of his lips hinted at deep thought, though his expression remained as detached as ever. His skin seemed smoother, his jawline less severe, giving him an almost unintentional innocence that made him look younger than he had any right to.

That indifferent, detached gaze of his, though, remained unchanged. His dark eyes, framed by lashes that were far too long for a guy, were fixed on the world outside the window as if he were lost in a universe that no one else could access. It wasn’t just his expression—it was his entire aura. He seemed untouchable, as though the world around him didn’t exist or, worse, wasn’t worthy of his attention.

And yet, despite that calm exterior, I could feel a faint tug in my chest, a ripple of something I didn’t want to name. I tore my gaze away before he could catch me staring, reminding myself that this was the very person I was trying to leave behind.

For a brief second, our eyes met, and the world around me seemed to blur into nothingness. It was like the air in the room thickened, pressing against my lungs and stealing my breath. His dark eyes, calm yet piercing, locked onto mine, holding me captive in a way that felt both familiar and completely unnerving. There was something in his gaze—an intensity, a quiet power—that made my heart stutter and my pulse race.

It felt like he could see right through me, peeling back the layers I had carefully constructed to protect myself. The moment stretched unbearably, a fragile thread of connection that I desperately wanted to cut but couldn’t bring myself to. His expression was unreadable, as always, but there was something—just a flicker, so brief I could’ve imagined it—that made my chest tighten painfully.

Panic surged like a tidal wave, and I ripped my gaze away, my face flushing hot with the effort. My hands trembled slightly as I pretended to adjust my bag, as though I hadn’t just been caught in the gravitational pull of someone I was determined to leave behind. I forced myself to focus on Stella’s voice beside me, her cheerful chatter grounding me.

I clenched my fists beneath the desk as I sat down, the faint burn of humiliation simmering in my chest. No. I couldn’t let this happen. Not again. I wasn’t the same girl who chased after him, who let his every glance or word dictate her feelings. I wouldn’t spiral into old habits—not today, not ever again.

The memories of last life flooded my mind, making my cheeks flush with embarrassment. Back then, I had made it my mission to sit beside Damien every single class. I would show up early to claim the seat next to him and even argue with classmates who dared to try and take "my spot." I had clung to him so desperately, hoping for even the smallest ounce of his attention. Sometimes, I’d even leave Stella sitting alone, brushing off her teasing comments about how obsessed I was.

But those days were over. I wasn’t going to be that girl anymore—the one who lived her life around someone who barely noticed her existence.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to shake off the lingering memories. Turning to Stella, I grabbed her hand and said firmly, “Let’s sit back here.” Without waiting for her to respond, I led her toward the second-to-last bench, far enough away from Damien to feel like I was finally putting some distance between us—both physically and emotionally.

We slid into our seats, and Stella shot me a knowing look, arching an eyebrow. “Second-to-last bench?” she said, her voice low but teasing. “Last semester, you would’ve sprinted to the seat next to Damien. And don’t try to deny it—I was there, remember?”

I groaned, rolling my eyes but unable to suppress a small smile. “Can we not bring that up, please? That’s the old me, Stella. I’m done with that.”

She studied me for a moment, her teasing expression softening into something gentler. “Good for you,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “But if you’re ever tempted to go back to your old ways, just remember who’s been stuck listening to your ‘Damien this, Damien that’ rants for the past year. I’m not letting you go through that again.”

I laughed, nudging her playfully with my elbow. “Don’t worry. I’m serious this time. No more Damien drama.”

“Good,” she said, nodding in approval. Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she added, “But just so you know, if he suddenly starts pining after you and confesses his undying love, I’m allowed to say ‘I told you so.’”

“Not gonna happen,” I said firmly, shaking my head.

As more students filed into the classroom, I couldn’t help but sneak one last glance in Damien’s direction. He hadn’t moved, his focus still on whatever was so fascinating outside the window. A small part of me felt relieved that he didn’t seem to notice or care about where I was sitting.

“Alright,” Stella whispered, leaning closer. “Now that we’re all settled in, let’s make this our new mission: no more living for anyone else. Just us being our amazing, badass selves.”

I grinned, feeling a flicker of pride at how far I’d come. “Deal.”

The professor walked in a moment later, and the room fell silent. As I opened my notebook and prepared for the lecture, I felt a strange but comforting sense of peace. For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t sitting beside Damien, fighting for his attention. Instead, I was exactly where I wanted to be—with Stella, focused on myself and what truly mattered.

This time, I was rewriting my story—and it was starting to feel pretty good.

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