18: Steffy's Predicament

Steffy's class had elected their officers for the school year, and to her dismay, she was made president—without even trying.

While her classmates saw her as a natural leader, she felt they had simply dumped the responsibility on her. The thought alone was such a headache. So, the moment the bell rang after the first period, she bolted to the locker room, needing a moment to process.

"Damn it!" she hissed, slamming her locker door shut. "How did this even happen? President of some stupid class—seriously?"

Dragging her hands through her hair, she took a deep breath to steady herself. But before she could shake off her frustration, approaching footsteps made her freeze. Instinctively, she turned back to her locker, pretending to rummage inside.

"So, you're the president now," a familiar voice drawled behind her.

Steffy straightened and turned, already expecting Charlotte. A mocking smile crept onto her lips. "I heard you voted for me."

Charlotte stood stiffly, wearing her shoulder-length wig. The sight brought back a vivid memory—Steffy making Charlotte and her gang beg for mercy after what she did to them.

"What about it?" Steffy asked, folding her arms.

"I just wanted to congratulate you," Charlotte said, whispering insincerity.

Steffy rolled her eyes and let out a dry laugh. "You know, being elected classroom president is nothing but a pain. I didn't even want this."

Charlotte's expression hardened. "How could you say that? I wanted that position."

"Oh, Charlotte," Steffy sighed, leaning lazily against the locker. "If only you knew the kind of position I'm aiming for. This 'president' nonsense wasn't part of the plan, but I can work with it. It's cute. Being treated like a goddess. I'm sure you miss the attention." She gave a pointed look at Charlotte's wig. "Especially after what I did to your hair."

Charlotte's mouth opened, but no words came out. Steffy could see the cracks in her carefully built armor, and soon, the façade crumbled completely.

"You're right," Charlotte spat, her voice trembling. "Whatever you're enjoying right now, I had it first! I was always the president! I was the queen of this school, and everyone feared me. Then you showed up and tossed me aside like trash." Tears spilled freely down her cheeks. "And this—this stupid wig! You ruined me! Even Teacher Greg won't look at me anymore. He only has eyes on you! You destroyed everything, Steffy!"

Charlotte dropped to her knees, sobbing into her hands. For a fleeting moment, Steffy felt a twinge of something—pity, maybe. But she quickly smothered it.

"How could a campus bully like you have been president in the first place?" Steffy said coldly. "Oh, I remember—intimidation and bribery. That's your style. But me? People just simply like me. That's what gets under your skin. You had to scare people into following you, and now you can't stand that I didn't have to lift a finger to win." She shook her head. "You had it coming, Charlotte. What goes around, comes around."

Steffy turned to leave but paused to throw one last dagger over her shoulder. "You should think about being a better person. Maybe this school will give you another chance. But you? You're done bullying people."

For the first time, Steffy really looked at Charlotte. Beneath the anger and bitterness, she saw a deeply troubled girl. What kind of life had Charlotte lived to turn her into this?

"And you, Steffy?" Charlotte's voice cracked as she stood up shakily. "How long can you pretend to be the kind girl when we both know you're a monster underneath?"

Steffy snickered, adjusting the strap of her bag. "A monster? If that's how you see me, fine. Call me what you want. I'm actually having fun."

Charlotte wiped her tears and straightened herself. "Enjoy it while you can. Whatever game you're playing, your stench will eventually fill the air. You won't get away with what you did to me—or my girls."

Steffy turned back to face her, a toothy grin spreading across her face. "Let's see," she said simply before striding out the door.

By the afternoon, Steffy was ready to leave. The hallways filled with chatter and laughter as students lingered before the final bell. She adjusted her bag, eager to get out of the school.

Just as she reached the door, she collided with someone stepping inside. "Jeez!" she exclaimed, stumbling back. "You startled me."

"Sir. 'You startled me, sir,'" the voice corrected sharply.

Steffy froze and looked up to see Teacher Greg standing before her, his expression unreadable. She scoffed, meeting his gaze with a mocking smirk. "Yeah, whatever."

As she moved to step around him, his hand shot out, gripping her elbow. "Ouch!" she yelped, yanking her arm free. "What the hell?"

He let go, sliding his hands into his pockets as he faced her. "Go to the library after the flag retreat," he said flatly. "Mrs. Amparo has another errand for you."

"What?" Steffy's voice rose in irritation. "That's not my—"

"Just do it," he cut her off, his tone brooking no argument.

She glared at him, her fists clenching. "This is payback, isn't it?"

A slow smile crept across his face. "Why, Miss Rivera, do you remember what you did to me at the bar?"

His words hit her like a slap. Her heart raced as the memory surged forward—the wild kiss, the reckless night. His intense coffee-brown eyes locked onto hers just inches away now. Even the addicting scent of his cologne lingered in the air, and for a moment, it felt as though the world had frozen around them.

'Wake up, Steffy!' she screamed internally, her face flushing crimson.

The bell broke the spell. He straightened, stepping back with a knowing smirk. "Go on now, Miss Rivera."

Without a word, Steffy bolted into the hallway, her heart pounding as his amused chuckle followed her.