Chapter 113: Between Repair and Ruin
Monday morning.
The usual.
Alarm buzzing, groggy shower, Val hogging the mirror because apparently eyeliner requires a NASA-level concentration. Then breakfast—or what passed as breakfast since Val picked the strawberries out of my bowl and popped them into her mouth, claiming she was "saving me from the sugar." Sure. That’s what it was.
By the time we were out the door, she was glued to my side, humming some tune she probably picked up from TikTok. My backpack weighed me down; hers was slung over one shoulder like she had gravity privileges I didn’t. Nothing new there.
The drive to school was uneventful—music playing, her stealing glances at me when she thought I wouldn’t notice. I noticed. I always noticed.
It wasn’t until we actually got to campus, weaving through the usual flood of students, that something shifted.
Because Trent was waiting.
I spotted him first—leaning against a pillar near the entrance like he was trying to look casual but failing spectacularly.
"Morning, bud," he called as soon as we were within earshot, straightening up like he’d been caught loitering.
I nodded. "Morning."
Val’s reply came a beat later, clipped, barely more than a polite grunt. "Morning."
If Trent noticed the icicles in her tone, he didn’t comment. Instead, he shifted his weight, rubbed the back of his neck, and said, "Hey, uh... can I borrow Kai for a minute?"
Val’s head tilted, slow. "Mhmm... no. Not really."
That earned her a look from me. "Yes. Yes, you can," I said before Trent could implode on the spot.
Val’s glare slid over to Trent like a blade, sharp enough to cut. "Fine. But don’t take too long." And just to hammer it in, she added, "I’ll be watching."
Yeah, subtle wasn’t her strong suit.
Trent gave a weak chuckle, then gestured for me to follow. I sighed, shot Val a look that said please don’t bite his head off when I’m not looking, and walked with him toward a quieter corner of the courtyard.
"So," I said, adjusting my bag on my shoulder. "What’s up?"
He blew out a breath. "Marina, dude. I don’t get it. I thought she liked me, but now she’s acting like she doesn’t, and—" He waved his hands, exasperated. "I just don’t get it."
"Relationship advice, huh?" I smirked. "You and I both know Val’s the best person for that."
"Yeah, no kidding." He grimaced. "But I don’t think she’d actually help me."
That caught me off guard. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," he said, lowering his voice like Val might materialize behind us, "she hates me, man."
I blinked. "First of all, she doesn’t hate-hate you. And second, how do you even know that? Since when?"
"Since after... you know." His expression darkened just enough to let me know he was talking about the whole Marina mess.
"Right," I said slowly. "But how?"
"Her body language," he said simply. "Also? She glares at me every time she sees me. Pretty sure she’s plotting my demise."
I frowned, muttering under my breath, "I’m always the last one to notice things..."
] "What was that?"
"Nothing," I said quickly, clearing my throat. "Continue."
He studied me for a second, then shrugged. "Look, man, I just—I need help. You know her better than anyone. Maybe you could... I dunno... give me something that works with Marina?"
"Oh, sure," I said with mock enthusiasm. "Let me just pull out my ’How to Date Marina’ handbook real quick."
His look was flat. "Seriously, dude."
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Alright, fine. Uh... maybe try... talking about her interests? Books, movies, whatever. Girls like that, right?"
Trent stared. "That’s your big advice?"
"...Yeah?"
] "Really, dude."
I winced. "Yeah, okay, wouldn’t work."
] "Nope."
He scrubbed a hand over his face. Then, hesitating, he said, "Could you maybe... ask your girl for me? Like, what Marina likes, what I should do. I’d ask her myself but..." He trailed off.
"But?"
"She’s scary," he admitted, grimacing. "No offense."
"None taken." I smirked. "And yeah, sure. What are friends for, right?"
His relief was almost comical. "Thanks, man." He extended a hand, and we shook on it.
I watched him walk away, heading back toward the main building like he hadn’t just asked me to act as a translator between him and my girlfriend.
And yeah, his parting comment stuck with me. Val being scary.
Not surprising, really. I’d been intimidated too, when I first met her. The kind of hot-hot, rich-girl energy that made you second-guess every word before it left your mouth. Because she wasn’t predictable. She was the type who could laugh with you one second and slice you open with a smirk the next.
And maybe that was exactly why Trent was terrified. Why most people probably were.
But me? I was just the idiot she chose.
And somehow, against all odds, she fell first—and then made me fall right after.
---
After everything Trent asked me, I thought I’d bring it up right away. The problem was, I didn’t even know how. I mean, how exactly do you tell your girlfriend, "Hey babe, I know you glare at this dude like you want to set him on fire, but could you maybe help me fix his love life?" Yeah. Not exactly easy to word.
So I stalled.
By the time we hit the cafeteria for lunch, I figured I’d just... slide into it. Casually. You know, no big deal. We got our trays, found our usual spot by the window, and Val was already scrolling through her phone when I decided to start with the safest topic I could think of.
"The football team’s actually looking solid this season," I said, picking at the fries on my plate. "Did you see Saturday’s game?"
That got her attention. Her eyes flicked up, curious. "Against Lincoln?"
"Yeah." I grinned. "Thirty-eight to ten. Absolute slaughter."
She smirked, setting her phone down. "That QB of theirs didn’t even know what hit him. I swear, Trent really—"
And there it was. The name slipped out of her mouth first, like fate just handed me the opening. I almost laughed. Almost.
"Speaking of Trent," I started carefully, like I was tiptoeing across a minefield, "what do you think about—"
Her face did this thing. You know when you catch a whiff of sour milk? Or when you scroll too far down Twitter and see something you wish you hadn’t? Yeah. That face. Lips curling, nose wrinkling, eyes narrowing like she’d just bitten into something rotten.
"What about him?" she asked flatly.
"Uh..." I cleared my throat, suddenly very aware of how fragile my life was in this exact moment. "Just, you know, the guy’s been... going through some stuff."
"Mm-hm." She stabbed her fork into her salad like it personally offended her.
That was my cue to abort mission. Slam the eject button, jump out of the plane, roll away before the explosion hit.
"You know what? Forget about it." I waved it off like it didn’t matter, trying to sound casual. "Anyway, did you see the new Marvel trailer? The one with the crazy multiverse twist?"
Her eyes lingered on me, narrowing just a little. Suspicious. Like she could tell I’d just dodged something. But she didn’t push. Thank God.
"I did," she said finally, leaning back in her seat. "Looks good."
And that was that. I’d killed the topic before it had a chance to breathe. The Cannon was out, superheroes were in.
By the time lunch ended, I told myself maybe I’d try again later. Or never. Never sounded safer.
Except Trent didn’t agree.
After school, as Val and I were walking to the car, my phone buzzed. I glanced at it and almost groaned.
Trent: So what did Celestia say?
I typed back fast.
Me: Still working on it, mate.
Which was code for: I nearly died trying.
It wasn’t until later, after we were home, that I finally found the courage. Val was stretched out on my bed, scrolling through her phone, and I was pacing like an idiot, trying to figure out how to start.
"Val," I said finally.
She hummed without looking up.
"It’s about Trent."
Her eyes snapped to me instantly. "No."
I blinked. "You don’t even know what I was going to say."
> "Doesn’t matter. No."
"Come on—"
She rolled her eyes, going back to her phone. "Hard pass."
I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling. "Val, he’s still my friend. Just like Marina’s your friend. And... he’s my first actual friend here. Who’s a guy, I mean."
That did it. She froze, thumb hovering above her screen. Then came the groan, long and dramatic.
"Ugh. Fine," she muttered, tossing her phone aside. "What does he want?"
Relief washed over me like a bucket of cold water. "He thinks Marina doesn’t like him. Remember he tried kissing her again and she shot him down? He still doesn’t get why."
Val snorted. "Because he’s an idiot."
I raised a brow. "That’s not exactly advice."
She sighed, finally sitting up. "Okay. Listen. Marina does like him. She just doesn’t want to be pushed. Instead of going in for some dumb surprise kiss, he should... I don’t know. Be indirect."
"Indirect?" I repeated. "What does that even mean?"
She gave me a look. "He’s the school’s star quarterback. He can figure that out himself."
I nodded slowly. "Right. Okay."
Then I pulled out my phone.
Her eyes narrowed. "What are you doing?"
"Texting him exactly what you just said."
She groaned, flopping back onto the bed. "Unbelievable."
I typed it word for word and hit send.
A moment later, Trent replied:
What does that mean?
I smirked and typed back:
She said you should figure it out yourself.
The three dots blinked for a second before his reply came through.
Wow.
Okay, I’ll try.
Thanks bud.
I dropped my phone on the desk and sat next to Val, who was already back on hers.
"Thanks," I said softly.
She didn’t look up. "For what?"
"For, you know... helping. Even though it looked like you wanted to kill me the whole time."
That earned me a side-eye. "You’re welcome," she said dryly.
I stared at her a moment, then leaned closer. "Babe..."
Her eyebrow arched instantly. Not because of the word itself, but because I never really use it. She already knew exactly what I was doing—trying to crack her mood, to pull a smile out of her whether she wanted to give me one or not.
"I’m horny," I said, straight-faced.
Silence. Then she burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. "That’s so weak."
"Oh, but when you do it, it’s not weak, huh?"
"Of course not." She smirked. "Because I’m adorable."
I shook my head, chuckling. "Unfair advantage."
> "And you love it."
"Unfortunately, yes."
We were still laughing when the knock came.
We froze.
"You expecting anyone?" she whispered.
I shook my head. "No."
I got up, padded over to the door, and pulled it open.
And froze again.
Lucien.
Val’s big brother. Standing there like he owned the place.
My throat went dry.
From behind me, Val’s voice called, "Who is it?"
I stepped aside, opening the door wider so she could see.
Her face dropped instantly. Not anger, not even annoyance. Something else—uncertainty, maybe even fear.
"Oh," she said quietly.
And just like that, the room shifted.
I didn’t want him here. Not now. Not after everything he’d done to her. Val had only just found her smile again, only just started laughing like herself after days of carrying that heavy shadow.
Lucien showing up at my door could only mean one of two things: he was here to make amends, or he was here to tear everything wide open again.
Either way, I hated that he was standing there.
Because the last thing I wanted was to watch Val fall apart all over again.
---
To be continued...