"I feel guilty for not being able to attend the show. I heard it was fantastic."

"Don't worry about it. Thank you, it was quite alright."

"Quite alright? Mrs. Gomez has never had a genuine British lead in her classic inspirational dramas. You should see how proud she is today." Sofia smiles sincerely.

"Well, then, I suppose it was good."

"It was perfect. You were perfect. Congratulations, love. I hope we can celebrate later at my place after the game."

She looks lovely, just like every day in her cheerleading uniform, but I imagine she must be freezing in this cold weather.

I'm not sure about attending her party, but I reply anyway. "Alright."

My fingers anxiously tap on the familiar black tea flask I received from a freshman backstage, after receiving applause from the audience for my participation in the school Valentine's Day drama.

"You should come. I can't handle another rejection from you. Do you know I'm letting Maria Pete take the lead today? Her routine is challenging for the team." A worried frown deepens on her face as she recalls her cheerleading squad.

"You should let Embry Wesley take her place. I think she's good at it and suited for it." I counter, folding my arms over my red hooded cape coat.

"Never. I'd rather do a thousand pounds than let Embry take over. She's not deserving." She remarks, and my eyes widen for a second.

"I doubt there's anyone that heavy." I giggle at her unwavering determination to annoy Embry.

"Why do you care about her? She's clearly some psycho who's not worth it." Sofia shrugs in confusion.

Smiling to myself as I recall last year's lesson at my previous boarding school. "You shouldn't respond to evil with evil."

"You respond with kindness?" She asks, wearing an indistinct expression on her face.

Ever since what happened at the park, I've promised myself to avoid the girls as much as possible. I haven't seen any of them, and I even skip some joint classes and have lunch in the locker room or the library.

I intentionally ignore Quinn's phone calls. However, she surprises me with her persistence. She refuses to give up and sent me an appreciation message on Monday and an apology message last night.

"Exactly."

"Oh Ava, you're so naive." She smiles and pats my shoulders. "You better find a seat before they're all taken."

"Yes, you're right. Good luck." I agree as I glance at the few remaining available seats.

"Good luck to all of us." She courteously teases before heading towards her team on the field.

Yes, I managed to have a proper conversation without strangling Sofia Halt with my hands. The entire week, I've been deliberately avoiding Sofia and Leigh with my evasive tactics. I always leave them with frustrated, confused expressions as they search the hallways for me.

I make my way to the third row and immediately regret sitting next to a girl angrily tapping her mobile phone screen.

Evie is spending today with her family, so I'm on my own for the rest of the evening.

"Bro, if not, I won't be able to live with myself for missing this game. What school lets their team play on Valentine's Day?" Eric Joseph groans right behind me.

"Apparently yours and West Falls." A senior whose name I don't know responds.

"I should be taking someone out tonight."

"You don't even have a date."

"Says who? I can get one whenever I please." Idiot. "Hey Erika Andre, would you be my valentine?" I sense him batting his lashes and giving his annoying cocky smile to the African American girl next to me.

From the corner of my eye, I notice her purse her lips and narrow one eye. "I would have said yes, but..."

"Hold it, pretty. I know 'but' means it's not gonna happen." Eric Joseph interrupts, and his friend bursts into annoying laughter.

The girl simply rolls her eyes and focuses back on the squad cheering on the field.

"Ava?" He begins.

Not me, please!

"Ava Lancelot." But of course, he meant me, for a finger keeps poking my shoulder. With a heavy sigh, I turn and force a fake smile. "I'm occupied for the day, but I appreciate you asking."

He dramatically places his hand over his chest, appearing hurt by my rejection.

"Why do girls always add the word 'but'? Man, I need to erase it from the English language." He tells his friend.

Before I can hear the response, a familiar voice calls out, using my name.

"Mr Boyce?" I call out in surprise to the man dressed in trousers, a shirt, and a black jacket.

"Ava, it's good to see you. How are you doing?"

"I'm good, thank you. How about you?"

"I'm... I'm alright." Christian answers as he takes the vacant seat next to me just as the kickoff begins. "Looks like I'm a little late." He says.

"It's just starting," I inform him.

"Well, lucky me." He smiles and continues. "Lilith told me you had a show today. I'm sure you did great."

"I managed."

"Is that your way of saying I did a fantastic job?" He arches his brows, and I smile, looking away from him towards the bullocks player running off the field to avoid the defense of Tyron Bertram.

"Perhaps. People claim it was great." I honestly reply.

"Then it was great. The compliments are all that matter. It means the audience enjoyed it." He says, attentively watching the ball carrier heading thirty yards towards the goal line.

"Yes, I suppose that's true." Eagerly, with widened eyes, I practically say aloud as the bullocks star quarterback slides towards the sideline and exits the field, just like his teammate.

I hear Christian release a relieved sigh as he says, "That's how it works." He turns to face me with worried eyes. "How's your mom?" He asks nervously.

"She's doing better than..." I stop myself from continuing, realizing that Mom wouldn't appreciate me sharing this right now.

"Better than?"

I mentally close my eyes and hit my head, preventing myself from blurting it out. "She might not say it, but she misses you, you know."

He takes a breath and exhales loudly. "Ava, I swear to God I didn't do anything that would hurt your mother or you. I was trying to be a better fiancé, husband, and father... I would never do anything disrespectful like that. I love Susan."

"Mr Boyce, you don't have to explain to me. When I say I believe you, I truly mean it." Yes, because your son and I were behind the lies and everything that ended your relationship. And if it makes you feel any better, Leigh and I aren't even together anymore. Karma is a bitch, isn't it?

"Mr Boyce?" He asks, feigning a confused look, and I feel embarrassed. "Come on. It's Christian, remember?"

"Of course." I nod.

"Good." He smiles and looks back to the field where West Falls players are out of downs.

"We're winning by five points. Do you think we can maintain the upper hand?" I ask Christian.

"Well, it depends on whether the defensive game continues as it started. I'm sure those boys don't stand a chance."

I'm afraid he's right. The Cheetahs' defensive team is bulkier and stronger. Not to boast, but they're even better trained than the Bullocks' offensive team. With Tyron and the others, they're dominating the field.

My eyes shift to the Cheetahs' offensive unit making their way onto the expansive field, clad in their white jerseys with touches of maroon and yellow. Nervously, I study each number on their uniforms until my gaze settles on the magnificent number three, whose name everyone is loudly and clearly chanting.

The uniform clings to him, accentuating every important muscle, calling for more attention. With an unsteady heartbeat, I watch as he puts on his helmet and performs his usual ritual of kissing two fingers and placing them on his right shoe.

I don't know how Leigh manages to consume my thoughts anytime and anywhere, but I know it's unhealthy. And when he's around me, I can't help but think it's a good thing.

I'm in trouble.

My breath trembles, and I realize I'm sweating in the chilly February weather.

My eyes fall on the perfect girl with long legs and glowing tanned skin. She's rocking back and forth and joyfully jumping, showing her support for Leigh Boyce—my secret boyfriend who left me for her.

It feels like a stab in the chest, and to relieve the pressure, I lower my gaze to my fidgeting fingers and swallow the lump in my throat.

"Oh, that's my boy." Christian proudly calls out.

"He doesn't deserve you, Ava," I remind myself.

Those were Evie's words last week when I was hungover.

"He's not worth it," I mentally repeat her words, trying to remind myself.

But I don't know how true that statement is, because he has claimed every inch of me and made it his own. And right now, I can barely breathe, even though he wants nothing to do with me.

The loud chants of "Leigh Boyce" from everyone make it harder for me to endure another minute. He's currently the ball carrier, heading towards the end zone with incredible speed.

I tried to hold back my emotions. I tried to suppress what I'm feeling right now, but it's too much to hide. It's too strong for me to resist. I love him, and he left me.

No! I can't. I can't do it anymore.

I can't pretend that everything is normal. I can't pretend anymore.

I'm already a mess by the time I'm walking through the car park, heading towards the school gate, my breath shaky and my shoulders trembling.

He was supposed to be mine, mine alone.

How could I be so foolish? Ruining my first relationship? Falling for someone who doesn't feel the same way about me.

"Hey!" My whole body freezes, as if steel is being magnetically attracted to another object. It's my feet against the concrete floor right now.

I hate that I feel this way about him.

"Ava?" He softly calls out, finally standing right in front of me.

"What? What do you want? Here's your tea. I haven't taken a sip." I shove the flask into his chest and try to move away, but he grabs my forearms, making me face him once again.

"Ava, can you just give me a second?" I might have given in to his pleading if it weren't for the vulnerable and longing look in his eyes mirroring my own.

"No. You've had your chance, but you wasted it, so I won't give you a second of my time."

I attempt to turn away and leave, but he captures my arms once more. "Can you just listen to me?" he pleads, stepping closer.

I pull away and force myself to respond. "I don't want anything from you. You have a perfect life waiting for you, so just leave me alone. Don't feel obligated."

"That's not true," he murmurs quietly, releasing his hold.

"Sorry if I care about what's true anymore." I bite out.

"Ava..." he begins.

"No! Don't you dare start with your convincing and assumptions. I'm tired of it." I interrupt.

"Can you..."

"You're a liar. You're a betrayer." I scream, angrily wiping away the tears that continue to flow down my face with the back of my hands.

"Please, just listen to me."

"Go away. I hate you." I blurt out and finally turn away.

He shouldn't see me like this. He shouldn't witness how much he has broken me.

"Well then, let's do it the hard way." Before I can comprehend and attempt to defend myself, I'm twirling, and then I'm swung over his shoulder.

"Get me down, you asshole." I sniffle and begin kicking and hitting him with my feet and hands.

But, of course, my futile display of violence does nothing to him.

With his hands firmly holding me, he carries me through the quiet car park, passing by various parked vehicles. After some beeping and the sound of a door opening, I am gently placed inside a familiar space filled with everything that screams Leigh. I want to disappear here.

But have some dignity, Ava.

So when he closes the passenger door and starts heading to the driver's side, I push open the door and make my escape.

"Ava? Ava... damn it." He frustratingly calls out, but I don't even turn back.

With everything in me, I run faster than ever, not looking back at the thrilling sound of heavy footsteps following behind me.

However, unfortunately, I wasn't fast enough. I'm caught around my waist. He holds me up with one hand wrapped around my waist as he walks back to his open Chiron, without saying a single word.

"Put me down." I struggle in his tight grip, but he ignores me. "My stomach... please." I pretend to wail in pain. "Leigh! You're hurting me."

Surprisingly, that's enough to make him drop me onto my feet.

"Are you okay?" Worry evident in his eyes, he bends his head down to check on my condition.

"I'm sorry," I tell him.

"For what?" He furrows his brows in confusion just as I charge back and knee him with force in his groin.

"For this," I smirk before I run past the parked cars and make my way back towards the dynamic field.

Wait, did he really skip the game just to make my life miserable?

I don't stop, I keep accelerating forward, and my mobile phone keeps ringing in my backpack. I wonder who's calling me at this crucial moment.

As I approach the end route that leads back to the field, a rush of relief and safety surges through me. But it all vanishes and is replaced with terror when I bump into an athletic figure.

My heart starts racing, and I start seething.

"Touch me, and I will scream." I take a slow step backward, hoping my threat will scare him.

"And how do you plan to do that?" He smiles contemptuously.

"With my mouth, dummy." I derisively answer. "You better not dare..."

His brows furrow as he looks down at my shoes. "Is that a cockroach crawling on your shoe?" Startled, I quickly turn, hitting my back against the wall.

Realization dawns on me as I look down at the floor and find nothing attacking my shoe. He played me, of course.

Lifting my gaze, he's suddenly all over me. He ambushed and cornered me, with both hands on each side of my head.

He's too close, too close that I stop breathing.

"How are you going to scream now?" He silently questions.

"With... I have a mouth." I stumble over my words, the closeness arousing a strange impact he has over me.

He leans forward until I can feel his breath on my skin. His eyes narrow in an extremely attractive gesture as he wordlessly scans me. His hand wraps around the back of my neck, pulling me closer until his mouth captures mine in a deep and greedy kiss.

No matter how angry I am, I can't resist kissing him back. I allow myself to savor my favorite taste, memorizing every nibble, bite, breath, and touch.

God! I missed him.

"This mouth?" He asks between our lips, but instead of answering, I grab his bottom lip with my teeth, ignoring his question. "You're an obstinate child, aren't you?" He furrows his brows.

"I'm not a child." I blink at his remark, then retort with irritation before I begin twisting my restrained wrists in his firm grip.

"Prove it." With a smirk, his seductive eyes study me up and down.

"How?" I swallow the lump in my throat, and a shiver runs down my body.

His soft lips brush against my ear as he whispers, "Show me yourself." Those words take away what little strength I have left, making it hard to breathe. "Show me you're not a child."

His free hand slowly trails from my face to my neck, then down to my chest, and my breathing rate continues to increase with every touch. "I want to see you, kiss you..." His fingers linger around my belly button, causing every hair on my body to stand on end.

Calm down, Ava. It's just over your dress.

"And touch you, everywhere." He adds at the same time, his fingers slipping over my trousers until they're between my thighs. Like an alarm, my whole body becomes rigid, and now I understand the strange feeling I've been struggling with whenever he's around. It's desire and longing for him.

His dark eyes drink in my vulnerable state. It takes everything in me, including biting my lip and breathing through my mouth, to fight the urge to grind my hips against his unmoving fingers. "If not, you should stop acting like one," he mutters slowly, and his hand withdraws from my sensitive area, causing my eyes to involuntarily close. I feel embarrassed more than ever.

I can't swallow as I plead, "Leigh... I should go, please."

"No."

"Please."

"Stop fighting it, Ava. I miss you, and I know you missed me too."

My eyes shoot open, and the anger returns along with tears. "I don't miss you. I don't care about you. You can go fuck yourself."

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not." I scoff, taking a shaky breath.

"Then why are you crying?" He softly questions, as if he's a blind person who doesn't see the pain he caused, or maybe he's just an insane person who forgot what he's done. "Ava, why?"

"Please let me go." I look away from him, unable to hold back the tears any longer.

"Why are you fighting it?"

"Please."

"Why? I can't. I love you."

Why did he have to say that?

"I hate you." I blurt out, my eyes piercing into his. "I hate you so much. I hate you." I scream, though tears have blurred my vision.

But instead of a retort, I feel his arms wrap around my struggling body. "I'm sorry," he whispers, causing my sobs to escape freely.

His hand holds my head to his chest, and the other rubs my back in a soothing gesture. He sways me back and forth in a comforting manner, providing a moment of solace.