Chapter 6 Chapter Six

• I didn't even flinch when the door swung open with a sharp creak. Layla stood there, a venomous smile on her face, and I could see it in her eyes-the same smug, superior look that had followed me my entire life. But this time, I wasn't going to shrink back.
• She leaned against the doorframe,crossing her arms over her chest, clearly savoring the moment. Her voice dripped with that same condescension.
• "Well, well, Pontius. I must say, I'm impressed. You actually managed to scrape together some cash. But tell me, how long do you think this façade will last? How long before you go back to being the pathetic little charity case you've always been?"
• I didn't blink. I didn't even bother with a smile. I simply tilted my head slightly, letting the silence stretch out between us. Her eyes flicked down to the designer jacket I'd just picked up this morning, and I could see the gears turning behind that perfect mask of hers. It was a mix of confusion and jealousy, and I wanted to drag it out for as long as possible.
• "You know," I said, breaking the silence, "I didn't come here for you, Layla. I'm not interested in your approval or your petty games."
• Her smile faltered just a fraction, but she quickly recovered. "Is that so? Because last I checked, you were the one scrambling for my attention, weren't you?" She took a step closer, her perfume filling the space between us.
• "Do you think you can just waltz in here with a new attitude and some fancy clothes and suddenly make me-make anyone-care?"
• I held her gaze, unfazed. "Not interested in impressing you," I repeated, voice low. "But I do think it's time for you to learn that I'm not some punching bag anymore."
• She laughed, but it was empty, like she didn't quite believe it herself. "Oh, Pontius, you really don't get it, do you? You might have money now, but that doesn't change who you are. You'll never belong here. You're still nothing."
• Before I could respond, I felt a familiar weight settle into the pit of my stomach-the slow, suffocating realization that the conversation wasn't going to go anywhere. I could tell by the way she was watching me, waiting for me to break, that she thought I'd crumble under the pressure of her taunts.
• But I didn't.
• Instead, I did something I hadn't even considered until just now. Something so reckless and, at the same time, brilliantly defiant.
• "Layla," I said, keeping my voice steady, "I've got a prom date."
• I said even though I have not asked her out.
• Her eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a mock smile. "Oh? Is this your way of rubbing it in my face, then? Because, frankly, I don't care who you take."
• I didn't answer immediately. I let the silence hang there, thick and heavy, for a long moment before I dropped the bomb.
• "I'm taking Cassie Kline." I finally let out trying to create an impression. The words sliced through the air, and Layla's face froze.
• She blinked, her perfect expression faltering just enough for me to see the irritation flicker beneath the surface.
• Cassie Kline-the perfect, polished, rich girl who just got admitted into the school.
• Cassie wasn't just any high-class student; she was the high-class student. Popular. Beautiful. The kind of girl everyone gossiped about. And the fact that she was suddenly willing to go with me? That hit Layla harder than any insult I could throw her way.
• Her eyes went wide, and for a brief second, I saw the mask slip completely. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. I could practically see her ego cracking, crumbling under the weight of my words. She had been the queen of the social hierarchy for so long, and now, I was about to take her crown-without even lifting a finger.
• "You-you're going with Cassie Kline?" Layla's voice was barely above a whisper, as if she couldn't quite process it. Her perfect composure had shattered. "You think that's going to make a difference? You really think you can belong here?"
• "Yeah, I do," I replied coldly. "But let's be real, Layla. You already know I've got everything you could never have." I paused, letting the words sink in. "And now I've got the one thing you thought you could control. The one thing that you thought could always stay in your little world."
• Layla stepped back, her eyes flicking to the ground as if trying to regain some sense of control. But it was too late. I saw the flicker of panic in her eyes.
• "You're wrong," she said, her voice trembling slightly as she regained some of her composure. "You'll never make it here. You'll never be more than a joke."
• Before she could finish, I turned on my heel and walked past her, making sure to brush my shoulder against hers, just enough to let her know I was leaving her in the dust.
• "See you at prom, Layla," I said over my shoulder. "Maybe I'll even let you watch me dance with Cassie.”
• The words hung in the air, thick with defiance. Her ego had been bruised, and I had the satisfaction of knowing that the tables had turned.
• As I made my way down the hallway, the whispers started again. But this time, they were different. More curious, more uncertain. The same students who had mocked me for months, for years, now looked at me with something new-fear.
• Fear of what? Fear that I wasn't the same kid they could push around anymore? Fear that I was more than they thought?
• But as I walked through the hallway, all I could think of was how I was going to speak to her.
• How was I going to convince the richest, beautiful girl on the campus to be my date to the prom dance?