I could feel the stares the moment I stepped into the cafeteria.
Not just the usual glances I'd learned to ignore—but sharpened looks, curious ones. Like I was suddenly interesting. Or worse… relevant.
I didn't need to guess why.
He had told someone.
Dylan Blackwood didn't need a phone or a rumor chain—he was the rumor. A look, a word, even just a smirk from him could set the entire school on fire.
I gripped my tray tighter and scanned the room for my usual corner—quiet, away from the wolves in designer shoes.
But fate had other plans.
"Hey, maid girl!" a high-pitched voice called across the room. Laughter followed like a slap.
I turned slowly, and there she was.
Vanessa Pierce.
The school's reigning queen. Glossy hair, perfectly winged eyeliner, and a confidence that could curdle milk. She was beautiful—cruelly so—and everyone knew she'd been obsessed with Dylan since sophomore year.
"I heard you work in his house," she sneered. "What do you do, clean his sheets? Or warm them?"
The whole table cackled.
I stood there, frozen. My heart pounded, and my mouth tasted like shame.
But before I could open my mouth, I saw him.
Dylan.
Leaning against the far wall, arms folded, eyes locked on me like I was the most fascinating scene in a movie he already knew the ending to.
He didn't stop her.
He didn't laugh either.
He just watched.
The silence after Vanessa's insult stretched longer than it should have.
Maybe she expected me to cry. Maybe she wanted me to run.
But I'd had enough.
I took a slow breath, stepped forward, and fixed my gaze on her. Calm. Even. Dead in the eyes.
"No," I said, voice clear enough to slice through the tension. "I just clean up after people who don't know how to act like humans."
Vanessa's smirk vanished like it had been wiped off.
Someone at her table let out a quiet "Damn."
Her cheeks flushed. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," I said, quieter now, because I wanted her to lean in. "You think being pretty and rich makes you powerful. But all it makes you is loud."
Her jaw clenched. She opened her mouth to bite back, but I turned before she could find her words. I walked away—heart pounding, legs shaking, but still standing tall.
I didn't even look at Dylan.
But I felt him.
And for the first time…
He looked unsettled.
I slid into my seat at the back of the cafeteria, my tray untouched, hands still trembling under the table.
What had I just done?
I'd stood up to Vanessa Pierce—the girl whose words had the power to ruin reputations with a single sentence. The cafeteria was still buzzing. Heads tilted in my direction. Whispers. Snickers. But for once, they weren't laced with pity.
They were laced with respect… or fear. Maybe both.
I exhaled slowly, trying to calm the adrenaline pumping through me. My hand gripped the edge of the tray. My appetite had disappeared.
A shadow passed across my table.
I looked up.
It was him.
Dylan Blackwood stood at the edge of my table, expression unreadable. He didn't sit. Didn't speak.
He just stared.
Long enough for my breath to catch. Long enough for the entire room to notice. Then he leaned forward, hands on the table, voice low enough for only me to hear.
"That was brave," he said, tone flat.
I didn't answer.
"But don't confuse bravery with safety."
He straightened and walked away without looking back, leaving his words to hang over me like a blade.
And that was Dylan.
Compliments that felt like warnings.
Moments that tasted like danger.
And a stare that promised everything but mercy.