━━━+*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ━━━

Forgive and I forget
I know my age and I act like it

all-american bitch (Olivia Rodrigo)

ꔫ

The following days blurred together. James and the others had excluded Paul from their friend group completely and I couldn't help but be grateful for this gesture. It was their way to show that they were on my side.

That they supported me.

That I wasn't alone.

At first, some students would stop by and make witty comments about that Instagram post but after I spent more time with James, a.k.a the most popular guy at Maxton Hall, in public, I felt how they distanced themselves from me.

But I also had other things on my mind. For example, James, Lydia and I would be soon going to Oxford for the interviews. I couldn't help but feel nervous at the thought of that. It was no secret that my father had high expectations of me and despite the fact that I had been studying for the past few months to get on the same line as my classmates, I couldn't fully relax. But deep down I knew that I would never be as good as them. I wouldn't be surprised if father's money managed to get me into Oxford if my brain didn't.

I was on my way from one class to another when I spotted Paul walking in front of me. I decided to keep my eyes ahead of me to avoid any eye contact but he seemed to have different plans because he stopped to grab my arm.

"We need to talk."

"We have nothing to talk about," I snapped back. "Now let go of me."

"Let's settle this before your puppy comes running like a shining knight in armor."

"Who are you talking about?"

"Come on, don't pretend to be so oblivious," he accused me which made my confusion grow even more. "We both know there is something between you and Cyril."

"There is nothing between us," I defended myself but my own body betrayed me when blood rushed into my cheeks.

The dream was still following me like my shadow and even though I should have just forgotten about it and moved on, I couldn't no matter how hard I tried.

"Your actions say otherwise. At the gala he was in such a hurry to ask you to dance. I saw you. That was not nothing."

"Then you should go see an eye doctor," I retorted.

He stepped forward. "And let's not forget about the practice where he basically jumped at me for no reason at all."

"You were the one that attacked him," I objected.

Paul let out a dry chuckle. "Did he say that? Maybe he just wants to get into your pants."

"Stop it, Paul," I warned him.

"You know what? I'm done," he announced. "I'm done fighting for your forgiveness. You've made it clear that you have no intention of giving it to me."

"Finally we are agreeing on something."

And then he walked away, leaving me alone in the hallway.

However, his words still echoed in my mind. Did he imply that Cyril was the one to attack him? But Cyril would have told me that. He would...

Unless he wouldn't. Unless I falsely assumed that he was better than his first impression claimed.

And I truly believed that he wasn't just a regular bad boy. I thought him to be innocent and felt sorry for him and guilty because I thought that Paul jumped at him because of me. But it was Cyril. I had no clue why he would do it. Maybe he was just aggressive out of his nature. After all, this wouldn't be the first time.

I cursed at myself for allowing myself to be so naive.

ꔫ

I was packing my suitcase for Oxford in my bedroom when my father paid a surprising visit.

"I shall not remind you how important this is for you and this family, am I correct?" he asked from the doorway.

"No need," I replied and folded one of my T-shirts.

"I squinted my eyes at that latest video, Beatrice. Your only luck is that Professor Lexington was understanding about it rather than causing unnecessary drama."

"That's great," I noted dryly.

"Look at me when I am talking to you."

I straightened up, took a deep breath and faced my father. He was dressed in his usual suit with his hands in his pockets. He looked as if he had been cut out straight from a magazine about businessmen.

"Yes, father?"

"Listen to me, you will not bring shame on this family. Am I clear?"

"Yes."

ꔫ

On the next day, we got in the car and Percy drove us all over to Oxford. After that we were supposed to go to the registration table where they would tell us about our rooms. James and Lydia went ahead and while I was waiting, I spotted Cyril standing nearby.

I hadn't talked to him since his fight with Paul. When Paul told me that it was actually Cyril that attacked him, I couldn't look him in the eye. Instead, I returned to the good old ways of ignoring him, even though I realized that I had never really avoided him.

For some reason, I felt disappointed. A part of me hoped that there was something in him. But it turned out that his only solution was violence for everything.

"Name?" the student behind the desk asked.

"Beatrice Beaufort."

I was expecting him to say a simple number and give me a key but to my shock his head shot up.

"Oh."

His reaction confused me as he called one of his friends over. They whispered about something and in the end they told me to step aside. One of them then started leading me away and I realized that we were approaching Cyril. Him and I exchanged quick looks but it looked like he had no idea why we were here either.

"So, here's the thing," the Oxford student started. "Let me just say first that this isn't a regular occurrence here at Oxford. In fact, it hasn't happened before this and this is a very rare occasion which we deeply apologize for–"

"Spit it out already," Cyril urged him.

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest. "Or what? You'll beat him up?"

"What's your problem?"

I ignored him as I focused on the student. "Beware of him. He's already started a fight twice."

"Seriously, Betty, what the hell are you talking about?"

I couldn't believe that he was playing the oblivious one. "Let me remind you of when you punched that guy that accidentally threw that lacrosse ball at my face. You must remember it. After all, you took me to the nurse's office. And ironically I escorted you the second time you fought someone. Of course here's the fact that the nurse thinks that we are dating."

"That dick deserved it. And so did Paul," he protested.

"Of course, you almighty," I retorted.

I needed to keep in mind his true nature. And most importantly I needed to forget about the pictures that had been returning from my dream until this day.

The Oxford student cleared his throat. "Excuse me."

"What?" both Cyril and I said in unison.

"There's been an error in our system and you were both assigned the same room by accident," he blurted out.

I opened my mouth but couldn't let out anything. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?

"Can you repeat that?" Cyril asked.

"You are accommodated in the same room. But I assure you that we are already working on it and a spare bed has been added too," he quickly explained.

"And can't you give us one more room?" Cyril inquired.

"Unfortunately, every room is occupied during the interviews at Oxford. Nothing is available. We've checked already and we were hoping that someone would not show up but it's only a faint hope."

Cyril started pacing around, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"But it seems like you know each other," he tried to brighten the situation. "And get along really... well..."

Hesitation was clear in his voice as he was finishing his sentence.

Getting along?

In his dreams. Maybe if Cyril hadn't been such a bad boy stereotype, being with him in one room would be sufferable. But he really was made only out of one layer despite my previous beliefs.

Unfortunately, we didn't have any say in it. Maybe if we really tried, one of us could get a hotel room nearby but that would mean more complications and travelling. And asking my father for help was definitely not something I would do voluntarily.

So in the end we complied and we were each given a key with the number of our room.

"So we're back to square one?" Cyril spoke as we were walking up the stairs to our room.

"We've ever moved from square one?" I asked.

"I see there's no point in trying to have a civil conversation," he remarked mostly for himself but I heard him loud and clear.

"Maybe there would be if you tried."

"Why do you have to be so sassy?"

"Last I checked, you called me Sassy Betty."

Finally we reached the door and he unlocked it. Inside, there was nothing unusual about it. It wasn't very small and it would be just enough for the two of us. There was a door leading to a smaller bathroom with a shower, sink and toilet.

"I'll have the spare bed," Cyril announced as he threw his bag on it.

ꔫ

It was already dark outside. I had showered and put on my pajamas to get ready for bed. Cyril hadn't arrived yet since he was out with his friends. My sketchbook was buried somewhere on the bottom of my suitcase which still needed to be unpacked and I hadn't found myself in the mood for that yet.

I reached for my phone that was on my nightstand and opened Instagram. I hadn't posted any new drawings on my secret account yet. My fingers moved before my brain could react and they clicked on my chat with the boy I had been writing to.

drawingprincess74: Have you ever thought that you knew someone well but then they proved you the opposite?

I sent the message and anxiously waited for his response. And soon enough, the three dots appeared.

kingoftheworld04: n what did that person do?

Did I want to tell him about Cyril? Not really. But he was here, listening.

drawingprincess74: He did something that made him change in my eyes.

kingoftheworld04: n did he have a reason 4 it?

My fingers were ready to type back but they didn't move. Did Cyril have a reason to beat Paul up? I recalled that day. Before the practice he clearly threatened Paul when I met them after I found out about the video. But I didn't think that he was serious. With James, I could imagine but Cyril?

drawingprincess74: I don't know.

kingoftheworld04: think about it, princess. maybe the person doesn't know he hurt u

kingoftheworld04: only a fool would be brave enough to hurt u

What if he was right? What if Cyril did it because he cared and not only because his answer was violence for everything? The first time he attacked the guy during the lacrosse match was after that player hit me in the nose accidentally. Maybe I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions.

ꔫ

In the morning, I automatically entered the bathroom and took a shower.

While I was brushing my teeth, there was a knock at the door.

"Are you done?" Cyril's impatient voice sounded.

"No!" I shouted back with the toothbrush in my mouth.

"I don't hear the water going."

I closed my eyes, calming myself down. I spat out the toothpaste so that he could understand me. "If you wanted to be the first one to use the bathroom, you should've woken up earlier."

"It's not my problem you girls take so long inside. So are you done?"

"Wait a minute!"

I finished brushing my teeth and finally opened the door. There, Cyril was standing in his sweatpants and a hoodie.

"Thank God," he said and walked past me, closing himself in the bathroom.

I brushed it off and I returned to my suitcase to take out my outfit for today. It had to be something elegant but not too elegant. Something a rich girl from a rich family would wear.

What would Lydia wear?

In the end, I was satisfied with a simple white blouse and dark blue pants. I used the opportunity to get dressed without getting interrupted when I heard the water running in the shower.

But then my eyes fell on a cup-holder with two drinks on the bedside table. I cast it a confused look because it certainly couldn't have appeared out of thin air.

I heard the bathroom door open and I turned around but the moment my eyes spotted the naked chest of Cyril, I abruptly looked sideways. However, the picture got engraved into my brain just next to my dream. But the real body couldn't even be compared to the one from my imagination because my fantasies weren't loyal to reality.

"You don't like what you're seeing?" he mocked me.

"Just get dressed," I told him but in my mind I still had the picture of his clear skin. And the abs. No one could question the fact that he was a sportsman if they wanted.

"Take that cup of coffee as a peace offer," he said suddenly.

"You brought the coffee?" I questioned. "I wouldn't have guessed you to be a morning person."

"I run every morning for your information. And when I found this small cafe I wanted to try it out. I also happen to share a room with the sassiest person I know."

I took the one that had my name written on it and took a sip. The taste was very familiar.

"How?"

It was mocha and I could sense the cinnamon in it. Cyril couldn't have known...

He shrugged. "James was with me."

"Oh." That made sense. Cyril would have no way to know my favorite type of coffee otherwise.

ꔫ

The interviews were wild and the professors were merciless.

Thankfully, I didn't have the worst feelings after them because I could react to their questions in a matter of seconds. If my answers were correct, I had no idea.

At the end of the day, James and the others invited us to join them in a bar that was near.

I hadn't started a conversation with Cyril yet. I kept telling myself that I would eventually but I couldn't make myself face him. In our room, we rarely exchanged any words.

And the same situation reigned at the table in this cozy bar as well.

James and Lydia were lost in their own thoughts. Alistair kept looking over at Kesh who seemed to be the only one in a cheery mood with a girl on his lap. And Cyril... I ignored him the best I could.

The boys had ordered a drink for all of us except for Lydia who refused. My glass was still full as it lay in front of me.

"I'll go order some more," Cyril announced and he got up from his chair.

Alistair leaned over to me. "So, Betty, tell us, what is it like to be Cyril's roommate?"

"It's..." I was looking for the right words. "Sufferable."

"Crazy how Oxford messes up, isn't it?" Alistair commented and a lively laughter followed it, making my brows furrow.

"Don't be so obvious, bro," James told him.

"What is this about?"

James only shook his head and Alistair's laughter died down. The silence returned among us and I looked around the bar in hopes of some entertainment. Then my eyes fell on Cyril who was standing by the bar. But he wasn't in the process of ordering drinks. In fact, he was chatting with some blonde girl with thick eyeliner and fake eyelashes.

But why should I care? We were only sharing a room. Nothing more.

Nothing had ever happened between us despite Paul's claims.

That reminded me, I hadn't seen him anywhere yet even though I knew that he was also attending the interviews at Oxford. His absence wasn't something I complained about though.

The room was filled with voices of many people but somehow my ears still caught the sound of the girl's laughter at something Cyril said to her.

I pursed my lips.

He was allowed to talk to girls. My dream would remain a dream. A simple dream. Wild imagination of my mind.

And I didn't need a violent person by my side. I really didn't. No matter what his reasons were...

Why did the guy behind that account have to mess with my head?

"Excuse me," Lydia said suddenly and walked out of the bar.

A part of me wished it could follow her but the other part of me was glued on the flirting couple by the bar.

"Are you drinking that?" Alistair pointed at my glass with alcohol.

"Yes," I replied and grabbed it, chugging it down.

"Woah," James uttered. "Careful there."

"Isn't this Oxford, James?" I questioned. "We gotta celebrate being here. Not everyone is so lucky. I'll go get another drink because that snail's too distracted to find his back to his table."

I left the boys there and approached the bar. On my way I passed the flirts and noticed that the girl was holding a glass with liquid. I rolled my eyes at her high-pitched voice.

"One whiskey please," I told the bartender and he nodded as he got into work.

I glanced at the girl, her voice irritating the shit out of me. And just like that, I bumped into her. The moment she screamed in shock I took a step away, playing the innocent.

She turned around. "You, bitch!"

"Are you talking to me?" I challenged her.

"Yes. You've bumped into me and my drink spilled!" she accused me.

"I'm so sorry," I faked empathy. "I didn't see you there. You must have blended in with the decoration."

She was seething from fury and I was enjoying every second of it. I had already had experience with such spoiled brats from Maxton Hall and this girl was no exception. Other days, I wouldn't start a confrontation but I felt the booze giving me the bravery I needed as it started getting into my head really quick.

"Ashley, we should just move away," Cyril told her but she shushed him down.

"No. This bitch must learn her lesson." I raised my eyebrows. "You will pay for my dress."

"Why should I pay for your clumsiness?" I questioned.

"Do you know who my uncle is? He's a great friend of the chancellor and it takes one word from him to make sure you fail the interviews."

"So your uncle, huh?"

"Excuse me?"

"Here's your whiskey," the bartender announced and I swiftly thanked him, accepting the glass. My focus returned to the girl – Ashley. "And would your uncle like to get in cross hairs with the Beauforts?"

Ashley visibly paled, recognizing the powerful surname. "The Beauforts?"

"Yes." I took a sip from my drink. "I happen to be one. I'm sure you've heard of us. My father has given a generous donation to Oxford. You aren't wearing clothes designed by us, are you? Not everyone can afford them, unfortunately."

I feared her teeth would fall out at the sight of how much she gritted them. I gave her a sweet but devilish smile. For the first time I was using my name for my own benefit and I was enjoying every second of it.

Then Ashley stomped off, leaving Cyril behind her. It seemed like she wasn't interested in the guy who witnessed her embarrassment.

"That was cruel, Sassy Betty," Cyril remarked with a smirk.

"Please, I just saved her from you," I retorted and started making my way back to our table with Cyril right behind me.

ꔫ

Hello again!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Also, get ready because big things will be happening next chapter!

And one more important note: only two chapters are left! After that we're going to have to wait for season 2 to come out which I am so excited for!! 

Thank you so much for reading! Take care <3

Sincerely, writingmagic 🖤