That Popular Guy, Yeah, I Destroyed Him - Chapter 15: Chapter 15

"Forget him, Zoe. Let's start fresh."
Luke lay pale and still on the hospital bed, beaten to a pulp by Parker. The moment I pushed the door open and saw him, the air left my lungs.
"Luke."
His eyes fluttered open, and when they landed on me, he managed a weak chuckle. "How'd you find me? Sorry for worrying you."
Luke wasn't from here—just a guy studying alone in this city. His brother had brought him in without telling their parents.
"My fault," he said, wincing as he propped himself up. "I was an idiot yesterday. Pushed his buttons on purpose. But that bastard fights dirty. Couldn't take him. Don't worry, though—just a few scratches. He didn't walk away clean either."
My fingers brushed the fresh cut near his eyebrow.
Parker's pitiful act from earlier flashed in my mind, but there was no satisfaction in it. Seeing Luke like this just made my chest ache.
"This isn't over," I said, voice steady. "Luke, I'm making him apologize to you."
He laughed. "How? He still remembers you. Don't let one apology cost me the coolest girlfriend ever."
I didn't laugh back.
Instead, I pulled a USB drive from my bag and handed it to him. "Luke, letting this go isn't helping him either."
"Zoe."
Parker was waiting for me at the bottom of the hospital stairs.
He'd followed me here, watched me go up to see Luke, but hadn't stopped me—hadn't even stepped foot inside. Now he moved toward me, but I took a sharp step back.
"Parker."
He froze, eyes locked on mine. "Zoe, I was stupid before. Will you teach me how to be better?"
I shook my head. "Have you forgotten? I tried that once. At the internet café. You told me to mind my own business. Told me to get lost."
His throat worked, words failing him.
I smiled, just slightly. "Parker, go apologize to Luke."
The last trace of warmth drained from his expression.
In three quick strides, he was in front of me, hands gripping my shoulders, voice unsteady. "You really like him?"
"This isn't about liking anyone," I said, shoving him off. "You need to see a psychiatrist."
His hands fell away. "Even you think I'm sick?"
"Parker, I know about your family. This isn't an insult—it's a fact. You beat Luke half to death. He could've had you arrested."
Parker's jaw clenched. "Zoe, don't pick him. Just—teach me. I don't know how, but you can show me, right?"
"It's too late," I said, studying him—this stranger who'd replaced the boy I once knew. "I just realized something. I didn't like you. I liked the stubborn, soft-hearted kid you used to be. That's why I put up with you for so long. But all I got in return was you getting worse."
I took a breath. "After your family fell apart, you started resenting me. Hated that my life was happier. Hated that I lived freely. Hated that someone like me—chasing after you—seemed like I was looking down on you, like I was too proud to bend."
His breathing grew ragged.
"I saw it that day," I continued. "You pieced together that torn-up love letter. Braided my hair into that red string. But you still hated me so much. I couldn't figure out why—until I heard your mom on the phone with mine. Talking about your bipolar diagnosis."
Parker's chest rose and fell, uneven.
Finally, I stepped back, lifting a hand to wave at his mother rushing toward us from behind him.
"It's okay," I said softly. "You just need to rest."