Screw My Mate, I'm Going Lycan - Chapter 10: Chapter 10
You are reading Screw My Mate, I'm Going Lycan, Chapter 10: Chapter 10. Read more chapters of Screw My Mate, I'm Going Lycan.
Bella's hands clenched into fists as Amy's trembling voice cut through the air. "Bella, why would you spread those lies about me and turn everyone against me?" Amy held up her phone, the screen glowing with the school forum's latest scandal—accusations that she had plagiarized her award-winning essay, bribed a teacher, and worse. The comments beneath the posts were ruthless, dragging Bella's name through the mud, claiming she'd slept with university directors to secure her admission.
The bullying had escalated, each cruel jab sharper than the last. Amy's friends and supporters led the charge, branding Bella as shameless, a sellout willing to do anything for a seat at the university. Only a handful of students—those who hadn't been blinded by Amy's act—dared to push back, demanding proof of the accusations while exposing how Amy had stolen Bella's essay to pass her entrance exams.
Marcus snatched the phone from Amy's grip, his expression darkening. "Bella, I can't believe you'd stoop this low. Just because you're failing doesn't mean you get to drag Amy down with you."
Even Dylan, usually so level-headed, eyed Bella with doubt. "I don't know what to think anymore, Bella. But Amy wouldn't make something like this up."
Bella's chest tightened, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't do this. Check the messages, ask them—do you really think I'd orchestrate something like that? I would never—" Her words dissolved into silence, choked by the weight of their betrayal.
Marcus scoffed. "Like you haven't twisted things to your advantage before." He wrapped an arm around Amy, who stood there, pale but perfectly composed, the picture of wounded innocence. "Don't worry, Amy. We'll handle this. I'll talk to Principal Davis myself."
Dylan nodded. "Yeah, we've got your back."
And just like that, they walked away, leaving Bella standing alone under the harsh midday sun. The warmth of the light did nothing to melt the ice in her veins. Two hot tears slipped down her cheeks before she turned to leave. After a few steps, she glanced back—only to see Marcus and Dylan already comforting Amy, already calling the authorities to scrub the slander from social media. A courtesy they'd never extended to her, no matter how vicious the trolling had gotten.
This time, no one chased after her.
By the time Bella made it home, her eyes were still raw from crying. Her grandmother, frail but beaming, rushed to greet her the moment she stepped inside. "Bella! You topped Lunar University! Why didn't you tell me? This calls for a celebration!"
Bella hadn't planned on attending Lunar—hadn't even wanted to mention the results, not with the storm of online hate still raging. And she definitely hadn't wanted her grandmother to hear any of it, not after what had happened in her past life. But somehow, the news had reached her anyway.
Bella forced a smile, swallowing back the lump in her throat. "I wanted it to be a surprise, Grandma."
Her grandmother chuckled, patting her head. "I knew it! My sunshine would never keep secrets from me. So, a big party then? We should call Dylan and Marcus—they're great at planning these things. And don't forget the guest list! I always manage to leave someone out."
The ache in Bella's chest deepened. Her grandmother had been just as excited for her wedding in her past life—only to die in agony, heartbroken.
Bella wiped at her eyes, her voice rough. "Let's talk about it later, Grandma. I'm exhausted. I need to rest."
Without waiting for a response, she hurried to her room and shut the door behind her. She couldn't bear to look into her grandmother's eyes, not when she knew the truth—that time was running out. The moment the door clicked shut, the dam broke. Sobs wracked her body as she slid to the floor, whispering into the silence, "I'm sorry, Grandma. I couldn't save you last time. I won't let you suffer again. Never again."
When the tears finally subsided, her gaze landed on a velvet box resting on her desk. A gift. A small note sat atop it, the handwriting elegant:
[A small gift for a precious lady.]
Curious, she lifted the lid—and gasped. Inside lay a gown so exquisite it stole her breath. Crafted from the finest silk and satin, it shimmered like liquid starlight, every stitch a testament to luxury. A slip of paper was tucked beside it, bearing...
The bullying had escalated, each cruel jab sharper than the last. Amy's friends and supporters led the charge, branding Bella as shameless, a sellout willing to do anything for a seat at the university. Only a handful of students—those who hadn't been blinded by Amy's act—dared to push back, demanding proof of the accusations while exposing how Amy had stolen Bella's essay to pass her entrance exams.
Marcus snatched the phone from Amy's grip, his expression darkening. "Bella, I can't believe you'd stoop this low. Just because you're failing doesn't mean you get to drag Amy down with you."
Even Dylan, usually so level-headed, eyed Bella with doubt. "I don't know what to think anymore, Bella. But Amy wouldn't make something like this up."
Bella's chest tightened, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't do this. Check the messages, ask them—do you really think I'd orchestrate something like that? I would never—" Her words dissolved into silence, choked by the weight of their betrayal.
Marcus scoffed. "Like you haven't twisted things to your advantage before." He wrapped an arm around Amy, who stood there, pale but perfectly composed, the picture of wounded innocence. "Don't worry, Amy. We'll handle this. I'll talk to Principal Davis myself."
Dylan nodded. "Yeah, we've got your back."
And just like that, they walked away, leaving Bella standing alone under the harsh midday sun. The warmth of the light did nothing to melt the ice in her veins. Two hot tears slipped down her cheeks before she turned to leave. After a few steps, she glanced back—only to see Marcus and Dylan already comforting Amy, already calling the authorities to scrub the slander from social media. A courtesy they'd never extended to her, no matter how vicious the trolling had gotten.
This time, no one chased after her.
By the time Bella made it home, her eyes were still raw from crying. Her grandmother, frail but beaming, rushed to greet her the moment she stepped inside. "Bella! You topped Lunar University! Why didn't you tell me? This calls for a celebration!"
Bella hadn't planned on attending Lunar—hadn't even wanted to mention the results, not with the storm of online hate still raging. And she definitely hadn't wanted her grandmother to hear any of it, not after what had happened in her past life. But somehow, the news had reached her anyway.
Bella forced a smile, swallowing back the lump in her throat. "I wanted it to be a surprise, Grandma."
Her grandmother chuckled, patting her head. "I knew it! My sunshine would never keep secrets from me. So, a big party then? We should call Dylan and Marcus—they're great at planning these things. And don't forget the guest list! I always manage to leave someone out."
The ache in Bella's chest deepened. Her grandmother had been just as excited for her wedding in her past life—only to die in agony, heartbroken.
Bella wiped at her eyes, her voice rough. "Let's talk about it later, Grandma. I'm exhausted. I need to rest."
Without waiting for a response, she hurried to her room and shut the door behind her. She couldn't bear to look into her grandmother's eyes, not when she knew the truth—that time was running out. The moment the door clicked shut, the dam broke. Sobs wracked her body as she slid to the floor, whispering into the silence, "I'm sorry, Grandma. I couldn't save you last time. I won't let you suffer again. Never again."
When the tears finally subsided, her gaze landed on a velvet box resting on her desk. A gift. A small note sat atop it, the handwriting elegant:
[A small gift for a precious lady.]
Curious, she lifted the lid—and gasped. Inside lay a gown so exquisite it stole her breath. Crafted from the finest silk and satin, it shimmered like liquid starlight, every stitch a testament to luxury. A slip of paper was tucked beside it, bearing...
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