The classroom felt too bright, too quiet. Betty’s footsteps echoed as she stepped in, just as the teacher was about to mark her absent. Every head snapped toward her. Marcus didn’t move. His eyes didn’t widen. He didn’t smile. He just… exhaled.
She kept her chin high and walked to the front of the room, still wearing yesterday’s clothes, still reeling from the night before. But she didn’t stumble. She stood next to him like she belonged there. Because she did. This project was hers too.
“Let’s begin,” she said.
The lights dimmed. The first slide popped up. Her voice stayed steady as she explained the cardiovascular system’s pressure response. She kept it clinical, exact. But when she spoke about the damage prolonged pressure causes—how hearts can adapt and scar over—her eyes flicked toward Marcus. It was brief. But he felt it.
Then it was Marcus’s turn.
He stepped forward slowly. For a second, he hesitated. Then he pointed to a diagram on the screen. “This is the human heart under stress. Notice how it keeps beating anyway?”
The class was silent.
He glanced at Betty once, then looked out across the room. “That’s what people do too. We don’t stop. We adapt. Even when it hurts.”
He explained blood flow, arterial response, recovery time. But every word was a layered metaphor. Betty saw it. So did Kate. From the second row, Kate shot her a look that said: He’s not just talking about biology.
When the presentation ended, the room didn’t move. Then someone clapped. Then more. Even the teacher paused before speaking.
“Well,” she said, eyebrows raised, “that was unexpectedly… moving.”
They got a perfect score.
As the class filed out, Marcus turned to Betty. “Betty—”
But she was already walking.
He followed her out the door, down the hall. “Please. Just talk to me.”
She stopped at her locker. “You think one emotional slideshow makes up for lying to me?”
His jaw clenched. “No. But I’m not trying to make up for it with a grade. I just… I meant every word.”
She shut her locker gently. “Good. Then you’ll mean the next thing too: give me space.”
She walked off before he could speak again.
The rest of the uni day passed in a blur. Betty kept her head down, avoided stares and questions, even as whispers circled. People were clearly choosing sides. Some saw her as a viral hero. Others were just waiting for the next scandal. Either way, she didn’t care. Not today.
After uni, Kate found Marcus slouched outside the library, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.
“She’s not a test you can pass,” Kate said.
“I know.”
“She’s not a redemption arc.”
“I know.”
Kate crouched in front of him, her tone gentler. “Then stop performing. Stop apologizing like it’s PR. Do something real.”
He blinked. “What does that mean?”
Kate looked him dead in the eye. “You made a mess with an audience. So clean it up with one. Show her you’re not ashamed to love her—loudly.”
He didn’t flinch this time.
“I need your help,” Marcus said.
Kate grinned. “Finally.”
That night, Betty lay in bed replaying every second of the presentation. Not the facts, not the diagrams—but the way Marcus looked at her. The way his voice cracked on certain words. Like he was trying to reach her through science.
She hated that she noticed.
She hated more that it worked.
Her phone buzzed.
New vlog: Marcus Mitchell – The Real Story.
She sat up, heart thudding, and hit play.
The screen flickered to life, showing Marcus in that same court where they sat just nights ago. The lights were low. He was alone. No fancy edits. Just a boy in a hoodie with shadows under his eyes and truth on his lips.
“I started this whole thing as a plan,” he admitted, voice raw. “To use someone. To get what I thought I needed. But the second I actually listened to her, really saw her... it all changed. I changed.”
He paused, rubbing his face. “This isn’t a love confession. This isn’t damage control. This is me saying I was wrong. That she’s not some prize to be won. She’s the reason I’m trying to be better at all.”
Silence.
Then a final line.
“If she ever forgives me, it won’t be because I deserve it. It’ll be because she’s strong enough to see through all this noise and remember who we were… when it was real.”
She didn’t cry.
But she couldn’t sleep either.