━━━+*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ━━━

When all I do is think about the past
And haunt a house nobody wants to live in
You wanna hear about it all, where do I start?

The Good Witch (Maisie Peters)

ꔫ

Today, our chemistry teacher announced a big test for next week which would play a role in our final mark. And since I wasn't great friends with that subject, I knew I had to spend my upcoming days with my eyes glued to the pages because I'd been warned to get excellent marks to represent the Beaufort name perfectly without giving even a single reason to be ashamed of me.

The lessons had already ended just like the event committee meeting which meant I had some time for myself. However, with the test putting pressure on my shoulders, I'd made the decision to head for the school library where I could study on my own and in peace. I could never be sure which days my father worked from home and I didn't want to risk accidentally bumping into him.

In the library, I set down my satchel and took out my books and papers with everything I needed to learn. And since this school was Maxton Hall, there was a lot.

At first, I sorted out the papers from the oldest to the newest so that I could study chronologically. I knew that the beginning would be easier because I always prepared regularly but so far I wasn't so familiar with the most recent content.

Thankfully the room was quiet, giving me the calmness I needed. I kept repeating the words in my head and made sure I knew the right definitions for them.

But the comfortable bubble didn't last long because soon I wasn't in my quiet corner alone anymore. I heard the sound of two bodies harshly leaning against the bookshelves and other sounds that indicated they weren't just standing there.

I turned my head toward the commotion to check what was happening. And, truthfully, I wasn't even that surprised when I recognized the familiar silhouette of Cyril. There was another girl with him who was practically jumping on him and his lips as if he was the only source of fresh water in the middle of a desert.

"This is a library, you know," I said and they instantly stopped what they were doing, only now realizing that they weren't alone. "People study here."

Cyril was still holding the dark haired girl and something was telling me he had no problem with returning to his activity at any given moment.

"Jealous much, Sassy Betty?"

"There's a higher chance of a zombie apocalypse than of me envying you," I answered and looked back at my notes indifferently.

"Let's find a spot where we won't be disturbed," the girl suggested, not even trying to be subtle about it.

"This one is fine," Cyril objected.

I rolled my eyes. However, I refused to be the one to leave because I was here first. He's the one who doesn't belong here. If he wanted privacy while making out with other girls, he wouldn't get it here and he needed to be aware that I wouldn't give up either.

Cyril didn't seem to be in a hurry though. Once I even contemplated approaching the librarian to tell on him because such activities definitely were against the library's rules but I gave up on that idea when she came to return books to their original places. Of course, by that time Cyril and his girl were acting like the most innocent people on the planet and he grabbed a random book, pretending to be reading. When the librarian recognized him a bright smile grew on her face as if she was seeing her most favorite grandchild.

Yep, these guys really owned this school.

And of course I barely managed to squeeze any new information about some molecules during my stay in the library because Cyril successfully distracted me. Not as if I would ever admit it in front of him.

ꔫ

It was time for yet another social event to be held at the Beaufort House. This time it was dedicated to James who was going to have a speech about how he would take over the company. Honestly, if it was up to me, I would gladly remain in my room for the rest of the dinner while the adults could play dress ups and have polite conversations while planning their next move about how to earn the biggest amount of money that they could then invest. But I was forbidden from missing this dinner out because I was the perfect decoration. It was a fact that I was proof of my father's cheating past but at the same time I resembled the generosity of the Beaufort family. Only cruel people would leave a seventeen years old girl alone in an orphanage. In short, I was another puppet on their gameboard where the Beauforts were constantly winning every single time like champions.

At the dinner, some of the guests approached me, saying how sorry they were for my loss and as I felt my father's warning gaze on me, I politely thanked each one of them. I kept smiling and listening to my stepmother's speech who was soon replaced by James. And once he was done, everyone clapped him.

And only when everyone left was I allowed to retreat to my room and my legs automatically carried me to my bathroom and I washed off every trace of makeup. I was the old Betty once again. No makeup. No pretty clothes. Just little old me.

Someone who wasn't worth being a true part of this family.

On the way to my bed I grabbed my sketchbook and a pencil from my desk. I opened it on a page where I was working on a portrait of my mom. It wasn't done yet but the resemblance was unquestionable already.

Gently I traced the outlines of her face with my fingers. I missed her.

So very much.

The world wasn't the same without her anymore and everything proved it. My new bedroom proved it. The people I now called my family proved it.

Everything reminded me of my old life. And even though it wasn't perfect or luxurious, it was enough for me. This place might have every material thing I could possibly wish for but it did not have what I had back at my true home. Love. Warmth. Understanding. Empathy. This mansion was the mirror reflection of my old apartment.

Suddenly, my eyes caught the sight of something else on my covers and I mindlessly looked at it but I'd swear my heart stopped for a moment once I recognized what it was.

"Ah!" I screamed out, crawling out of my bed, leaving my sketchbook and pencil lying there.

I landed on the ground but didn't feel anything from the impact thanks to the adrenaline that was now coursing through my veins.

There was a knock. "Hey, is everything okay?"

"James?" I called out, my eyes remaining on my bed.

Then he entered. He must have just left the shower because his hair was wet and there was a towel around his neck. Thankfully he was wearing sweats so only the upper part of his body was bare.

He furrowed his eyebrows, looking at me on the floor. "What happened?"

"Bed," I said shortly, out of breath.

He approached it. "What's wrong with it?"

"Do you see it?" I asked while I slowly started to stand up.

"What?"

"The spider!" I screamed frantically.

By this time, it could have hidden in a perfect place where I would never find it again and I would forever live with the thought of it crawling on my body while I would be peacefully sleeping in my bed at night.

I shuddered just at the thought of that.

And then James started laughing. It could've been expected though. But the spider was still somewhere in my bed.

"James!"

Finally he got more serious. "Wait, you're serious?"

"Please, is it there?"

He focused on the bed. "I don't see it anywhere... Wait, did you draw this?"

"What are you talking about?" I carefully neared him and realized he was talking about the open sketchbook that I left there. "Well, yeah."

"It's really good," he said, admiring the drawing of my mom.

"Thank– THERE!"

Even James flinched at my voice but he walked over to me indeed. He followed my gaze and spotted the spider that was now crawling on my pillow as if it belonged to it.

Which it did not.

"Kill it please."

"You want me to kill it?"

"Yes! Or else it's gonna find its way back here," I argumented.

He shook his head. "It doesn't work that way, Betty."

"Have you ever been a spider?" I objected.

"Alright, alright," he gave in.

"Not with my sketchbook!" I called out when I saw that he was about to reach for it.

He raised his hands. "Okay!"

I kept my eyes on the spider while James was looking around for another deadly weapon. The spider couldn't disappear again. No. I don't think I'd be able to sleep in that bed ever again if James didn't kill it right now right in front of me.

At last James chose one of his slippers and only when he successfully smashed it against the insect did I breathe out in relief.

"Thank you," I said, carefully grabbing my sketchbook and pencil.

"Of course."

James grabbed a tissue from my nightstand and took the dead spider into it, folding it over. I watched his every move.

"Will you be okay here?"

"Yes, yes," I quickly answered. "I'm just... I can't deal with them, you know? It's always been like it. My mom used to help me with them but now..."

I lowered my head to glance at the drawing again.

James cleared his throat. "Anyway, that drawing is good, really. You've got talent."

"You're just saying that."

"No. I like to draw too," he revealed.

I looked up at him, surprised by his words. "I didn't know that."

He shrugged. "It's only a hobby. But your drawings are very good, trust me."

"Thank you."

"Do you need anything else?"

"As long as there's no spider in here, then no," I said jokingly.

We shortly bid goodbye to each other and soon enough James left me alone. I was still cautious around my bed so I moved to my desk. But James's words were still ringing in my head. Maybe my drawings really were good. A long time ago, I used to share some of them on Instagram. Paul would always give them a like and a comment. But after that experience I sure as hell wasn't going to give them to the public.

But it was always good to hear what people thought... Even James's compliment left a warm feeling near my heart. So what if I decided to put them on Instagram again but this time without my name? I'd be just another faceless and nameless account among the many more. No one would know it's me.

So what was stopping me? The answer was easy. Nothing.

ꔫ

Sometimes, the best ideas come when your brain is so exhausted that it can barely make any rational thoughts. However, I still couldn't decide whether it was my case or not. Right before I lay down to sleep – still hyper aware of the spider that was previously in there – I created a new Instagram account with an old email I wasn't using anymore and had given it to no one before. There was no name, no nickname. Only a picture of a black cat downloaded from Pinterest as a profile picture and my first post there. It was a portrait of a Formula 1 driver which I drew for my mom once because she was a fan of him. It was actually my first drawing in this sketchbook which mom gave me for my birthday.

But I wouldn't have expected for the person in the drawing to repost it on his Stories. Yes, I tagged him but I didn't think he'd notice it too.

And that's how I went from zero to over 40 followers overnight. But there were over a hundred likes and even some nice comments. This revelation cheered up my morning mood and somehow everything felt better. Even James seemed to be less ignorant toward me after last night but maybe I just imagined it. But still, he actually greeted me in the morning when he got into the car.

The girl that tried to make fun of me and my mom yesterday with Maria was nowhere to be seen either. It seemed like she was avoiding me and I had no complaints about that.

Today we had a class that would prepare us for our interviews at Oxford. A new teacher came. She was a young woman and every boy's eyes automatically landed on her backside. She introduced herself as Pippa Whinfield.

"I'll call you however you'd like," Cyril muttered in a whisper to his friend.

Unfortunately, Cyril and his friend were sitting directly behind me once again. And since they were the last ones to grace us with their presence, I had no other choice but to remain in my seat.

I tuned out the boys' whispers and focused on the teacher. She was telling us about her experience when it came to applying for Oxford. She approached the table in front of me with her satchel and handed Ruby a stack of papers with the instructions of passing them forward. Once my seatmate and I had our own copies, I turned around to pass the papers to Cyril but he was busy biting his pencil and chuckling with Wren, his friend.

"When was the last time you fucked with an ass like that?" Wren asked in a whisper but since I was near them, I caught every word.

Cyril grinned and was about to reply when I spoke up, interrupting their little conversation. "If you are done objectifying women, you might focus on the class."

I threw the stack at their table and wanted to get back to my table when Cyril stopped me. "Sassy Betty in action again."

"Calling out stupid behavior from even dumber boys is not sassiness but of course you couldn't tell those two things apart if you wore glasses," I snapped back.

"You call us dumb but somehow you're always the one starting an impolite exchange of words," Cyril said, leaning forward, his pencil still between his teeth that were perfectly showing thanks to his confident grin.

"Well, if your mother didn't teach you what manners are, it looks like that task has fallen upon me."

The teacher cleared her throat. "We don't verbally attack each other in this class."

"I've got witnesses that she started insulting me, professor" Cyril said.

Wren instantly raised his hand. "Yes, professor!"

They burst into laughter again.

"Please, can we get back to the main topic?"

"Yes, Ms. Whinfield," I said, sending daggers at Cyril who winked at me.

"Thank you."

Unfortunately, things didn't go according to the teacher's expectations because once the first question from the paper was read aloud, Ruby and James started to argue in front of everyone. In the end, James grabbed his satchel and stormed out of the classroom.

This class seemed to have been cursed.

ꔫ

Today I spent some time in the library as well and of course Cyril made sure to announce his presence when he dragged a new girl with him between the bookshelves. She also had dark, almost black, hair but her makeup was far more noticeable thanks to the thick eyeliner and the eyeshadows. I decided to ignore them because I knew that I needed to focus on studying chemistry. I was slowly running out of time and my stress level was only increasing. My original plan was to go chronologically but at the sight of the practical things I instinctively skipped to theory. However, the not so good news was that there was more practical stuff than theory so I managed to stuff that in my brain during today's session. And I was already dreading tomorrow's studying.

When I left the library, there was no sign of Cyril or the girl he was with. I just picked up my stuff and stepped out of the building, hoping to get home as quickly as possible. The image of my comfortable bed with fluffy covers was far too welcoming.

But God wasn't listening to my prayers because Paul stepped into my way. I internally groaned.

"Betty, hi. It's such a coincidence meeting you here," he said, faking surprise.

As if he hadn't been trying to talk to me over the last few days. Even though I would lie if I claimed not to enjoy his gestures at all. There was something romantic about them and if I wasn't so stubborn, I might have forgiven him a long time ago. But I couldn't bring myself to it. The proof of his hurtful words was probably still somewhere online, if not trending among his friends. I did not think I could ever bring myself to look it up myself.

"Leave me alone, Paul."

"Have you read my letter?" he asked as he was following me to the gate where my driver should be waiting.

"Yes."

Today when I had my first lesson, there was in fact a sealed envelope waiting for me on the table with my name. I read it during the next break and recognized one of Plato's quotes.

Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song.

He was truly trying his best to win me back. But half of my brain was aware of how horrible of an idea it was. But the other half was still remembering Cyril's words from that small storage room or whatever that was from the welcome party. He warned me not to fall for his empty promises. And I knew that Paul couldn't be worse than him so I hardly believed any of his words. However, that second part of my brain couldn't help but see it as a challenge. It wanted to see Cyril's reaction when he saw that I didn't do as he recommended.

"And did you like it?"

"Paul, the pain you caused can't be erased with pretty words, flowers or love letters. It needs time. I need time."

"I'm sorry, Betty."

"You have to earn my forgiveness. I hope you understand."

He nodded. "I do. But you have to let me too. I've been doing my best ever since you started attending Maxton Hall and I will keep trying until you see me worthy of your forgiveness."

"Good luck with that."

"There's going to be a party at Cyril's this evening. You could come since I believe you wouldn't be in for a date with just the two of us," he suggested.

"You're right to assume that."

"So... will you come?"

I raised my eyebrows. I didn't think my relationship with that boy was a secret. "To Cyril's?"

"Come on, it's gonna be fine! If you want, we can just ignore Cyril all night. He gets drunk anyway in the first minutes."

I opened my mouth then closed it again. Wasn't this what I secretly wanted? To savor Cyril's reaction once he saw me together with Paul? And I wouldn't make up things with Paul tonight anyway.

"Well?" he asked hopefully.

I bit the inside of my cheek, thinking. And at last I came to my final decision. There was a possibility that I might regret it later but there was no time to consider the consequences at this moment.

"See you tonight at Cyril's."

ꔫ

Hello, dear readers!

I'm sorry it took so long for this chapter to come out but in the meantime I've also returned to my The Vampire Diaries fanfiction which I am currently working on too so feel free to check it out! I have many plans for it ;)

What do you think, should Betty forgive Paul? Does she even want to forgive him or is she doing it only to see Cyril's reaction? I love this dislike between them so much ASDJKGBADGV.

And also, I hope you don't mind that I skip the scenes from the tv show. I am trying to make this story as original and creative as I can since I do not want this to be a simple copy of Maxton Hall.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the banter between our two lovebirds.

Have a nice day/night!

Sincerely, writingmagic 🤎