Chapter 45
The first thing Andrea noticed that morning was the cruel message scrawled across her locker in red marker: “The Joker should not waste our air.”
Her chest tightened as she stared at the words, their harshness cutting straight through her. Around her, students passed by, some snickering, others pretending not to notice.
“Wow,” someone murmured behind her. “Guess they’re not wrong.”
Andrea’s hands trembled as she tried to open her locker, but the combination lock felt slippery in her grasp. She could feel the tears welling up, but she forced them down. She wouldn’t cry. Not here.
Later, as she made her way to her next class, a group of students blocked her path.
“Well, if it isn’t the Joker herself,” one of them sneered, crossing his arms.
“Move,” Andrea said, her voice as firm as she could manage.
“Oh, the Joker speaks,” another one mocked, stepping closer.
Before she could react, someone shoved her from behind. Andrea stumbled, her bag slipping from her shoulder as she fell to the ground. Laughter erupted around her as she scrambled to pick herself up.
“Careful, Joker,” one of them taunted. “Wouldn’t want you to break.”
Her cheeks burned as she gathered her things, her heart pounding with a mix of anger and humiliation. She pushed past them without another word, keeping her head down until she was safely out of sight.
By the time Andrea reached her dorm later that day, her arms and shoulders were sore from the rough shoving, and a faint bruise was already forming near her elbow.
A knock on her door startled her, and when she opened it, she found Aiden standing there, his expression hard as his gaze dropped to the bruise on her arm.
“What happened?” he demanded, his tone sharp.
“Nothing,” Andrea muttered, stepping back. “It’s fine.”
Aiden stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. “Don’t lie to me, Andrea. Who did this?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, avoiding his eyes.
“It does matter!” Aiden snapped, his voice rising. “Are you just going to let them do this to you?”
Andrea flinched at the harshness in his tone, but he didn’t stop.
“You’re pathetic, Andrea,” he said, his words cutting deep. “You think they’ll stop if you keep pretending it doesn’t matter? They won’t. You need to stand up for yourself.”
Andrea’s jaw tightened as tears threatened to spill. “And what am I supposed to do, Aiden? Fight all of them? I can’t win.”
“Not with that attitude,” he said coldly.
His words stung, but Andrea knew there was truth in them. She looked down at the floor, her hands clenching into fists.
“I thought you said you’d help me,” she said quietly.
Aiden sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t help you if you won’t help yourself.”
Without another word, he turned and left, the door closing sharply behind him.
Andrea wandered the halls that evening, hoping to clear her head. The weight of everything—her fall from grace, the bullying, the Sinclair brothers’ coldness—was becoming unbearable.
As she rounded a corner, she spotted Nathaniel walking toward her. Her heart leapt, a spark of hope igniting in her chest.
“Nathaniel,” she called out, her voice soft but urgent.
He glanced at her briefly but kept walking, his expression unreadable.
“Wait,” Andrea said, stepping into his path. “Can we talk? Please?”
Nathaniel’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t stop. “Not now, Andrea,” he said curtly, brushing past her.
Andrea turned to watch him go, her chest tightening with every step he took away from her.
That night, Andrea found herself standing outside Nathaniel’s dorm. The hallway was quiet, the muffled sound of laughter and conversation coming from behind closed doors.
She stared at his door, her mind racing. Part of her wanted to knock, to demand answers for his coldness and distance. But another part of her—the part that was exhausted from weeks of humiliation and rejection—hesitated.
What would she even say? That she missed him? That she didn’t understand why he was pushing her away?
Andrea reached out, her hand hovering just inches from the door. But before she could knock, she let it fall back to her side.
This wasn’t the Nathaniel she thought she knew. The one who had promised to protect her, who had once made her feel like she mattered.
With a heavy heart, Andrea turned and walked away, her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.
