Chapter 3
Stefan looked at me, his eyes burning with anger, confusion, and even a trace of fear.
He said, "Wilson, what's gotten into you?
"You never used to be like this."
I laughed. "I told you, I've come to my senses."
I brushed his hand aside and straightened my wrinkled collar.
I smiled. "And Stefan, isn't this better?
"Keeping all those secrets bottled up is exhausting.
"Now that everyone knows, you're all free, aren't you?"
My words cut through him like a knife, hitting him right where it hurt.
He stumbled back a couple of steps, and his face went pale as a ghost.
"You... you're a psycho," Stefan shouted.
A few guys behind him stepped forward, pointing at me and yelling.
"Wilson, guess we were wrong about you," one of them shouted.
"You're a backstabbing snake," another guy yelled.
"From now on, we're cutting all ties with you," someone else shouted.
They acted all self-righteous, like they were the ones who got hurt.
I watched their little drama, thinking how ridiculous it all was.
"Sure," I said, nodding lightly. "Good luck with your bright future."
With that, I picked up the little mirror from the desk and started touching up my makeup.
To me, they were nothing but a bunch of insignificant nobodies.
Ignoring them hurt more than any insult ever could.
Stefan and his crew were so mad that their faces turned purple, but there was nothing they could do to me.
In the end, they could only throw out a few empty threats before storming off.
The classroom fell silent again.
But everyone was looking at me with a new kind of awe and fear in their eyes.
They probably thought I'd lost it.
After all, I'd sold out my own buddies without blinking.
Only I knew I wasn't crazy.
This was what it meant to be truly awake.
After school, Martha cornered me at the school gate.
She'd swapped her uniform for a pricey dress and had her makeup perfectly done.
She was trying to keep up her queen bee vibe, acting all untouchable.
But her red eyes and shaky lips blew her cover.
"Wilson, can we talk?" Martha croaked, her voice rough and shaky.
I walked right past her, not even bothering to respond.
She darted in front of me, cutting me off. "You'd better give me an explanation today.
"Why did you do it? Why are you dressed like this? Why did you put all that out there?"
Her questions came at me like a barrage of bullets.
I stopped in my tracks and stared down at her, cold and almost mocking.
"Martha," I said.
I used Wilson's usual tone, but this time, there was a frost in my voice she'd never heard before.
"What makes you think you can question me?" I sneered.
She froze. "I... I'm your girlfriend."
"Girlfriend?" I let out a mocking laugh. "Please. You really think you're worthy of that?"
Martha's face drained of all color.
"Wilson, what... what did you say?" she stammered, her voice trembling.
"I said," I leaned in close, my voice low and deliberate, "I'm tired of you.
"A girl like you, good for nothing but your looks and your body, I'm over it."
"Understand?" I said.
Martha almost lost her balance, barely able to stand.
She looked at me, eyes swimming with tears, completely in disbelief.
She shook her head. "No... that's not you.
"You said I was the one you loved most."
"Love?" I let out a cold laugh, like she'd cracked the sickest joke in the world.
I sneered, "Martha, don't tell me you're dumb enough to think I ever loved you.
"I enjoyed watching you grovel for me like some pathetic little puppy, like you are right now."
I reached out and hooked her chin with my finger, forcing her to look up at me.
"Look at your face right now. Pathetic, and amusing," I said.
These were the same things they'd said and done to me before.
Now, I was handing it all back to her, word for word, without changing a thing.
Martha finally broke down, her tears spilling over and streaming down her cheeks.
She was trembling from head to toe, her lips quivering, unable to say a single word.
I could see her pride and dignity getting shattered, bit by bit, under my words.
"Get lost," I said, my voice cold and dismissive.
I yanked my hand back and flicked it, like I was shaking off something filthy.
"Don't ever show up in front of me again. You're dirty," I spat.
After that, I turned and walked away without glancing at her.
Her sobs broke out behind me, raw and desperate.
I never looked back.
Not a single emotion stirred in me. If anything, I felt bored.
It turned out that destroying someone was that easy.
I wanted to tell Martha that this was only the beginning.
All the pain she dumped on me, I'd make her pay it back.
Over the next few days, I turned up the drama to the max, acting extra like never before.
I started flaunting a new princess dress or Lolita outfit every single day, making sure everyone noticed.
I leveled up my makeup game, swapping out colored contacts and wigs in every shade and style I could find.
I even signed up for the school cheer squad, showing off in a mini skirt, waving pom-poms, and dancing those cutesy routines right in the middle of all the girls.