“You think you can just mess with all of us, don’t you?”
Aiden’s voice was sharp, angry, as he grabbed my wrist and pulled me into an empty classroom. The door slammed shut behind us, the sound echoing in the small space. His grip wasn’t rough, but it was firm enough to stop me from walking away.
“Aiden, what the hell?” I hissed, yanking my hand free. “What is your problem?”
“You are,” he said bluntly, his dark eyes boring into mine. “You’re my problem, Lila.”
I stared at him, taken aback by the raw frustration in his tone. “What are you talking about? I haven’t done anything to you!”
“Oh, you haven’t?” He let out a humorless laugh, running a hand through his already messy hair. “You really don’t get it, do you? You walk in here, and act all innocent, but you’re tearing everything apart!”
I folded my arms, my patience wearing thin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. If anyone’s tearing things apart, it’s you and your brothers. You’re the ones who can’t seem to keep it together!”
“That’s rich,” Aiden shot back, stepping closer. “You think this is just about us fighting over you? You think this is some high school drama where the poor, sweet girl is caught in the middle?”
I flinched at his mocking tone but held my ground. “If it’s not about that, then what is it about? Why don’t you just say what’s really going on instead of blaming me for everything?”
For a moment, Aiden didn’t say anything. His jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower, almost dangerous.
“This isn’t just about you, Lila. This has been brewing for years—long before you showed up,” he said. “But you being here? It’s making everything worse.”
“Worse how?” I asked, my heart pounding.
Aiden hesitated, his eyes flickering with something I couldn’t quite place. “You don’t know what you’ve stepped into,” he said finally. “You don’t know what he’s capable of.”
“Who?” I pressed, frustration bubbling to the surface. “Grayson? What is it with you and him? Why do you hate him so much?”
Aiden let out a bitter laugh. “Hate him? You think this is just hate? You don’t even know the half of it.”
“Then tell me!” I snapped, my voice rising. “If there’s something I don’t know, maybe you should explain it instead of dragging me around and throwing cryptic warnings at me!”
For a second, I thought he might actually open up. His expression softened, and his eyes locked on mine, filled with something close to vulnerability.
“There’s a reason Grayson acts the way he does,” Aiden said slowly. “A reason why he always has to be the one in control. You think he’s trying to protect you? He’s not. He’s just protecting himself. He always has.”
“What does that even mean?” I asked, my voice quieter now, though my chest still felt tight with frustration.
Aiden shook his head, taking a step back. “It means you’re in over your head, Lila. You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
Before I could ask him anything else, he turned and stormed toward the door.
“Aiden, wait!” I called, but he didn’t stop. He threw the door open and disappeared into the hallway, leaving me standing there with more questions than answers.
Diary Entry
Date: October 4th, 10:45 PM
Dear Diary,
Aiden Cross is the most infuriating person I’ve ever met. He pulled me into a classroom today, accused me of choosing Grayson over him, and then gave me just enough information to make my head spin. What does he mean by “this isn’t just about me”? Why does it feel like everything they do has some hidden meaning I’m not privy to?
And then there’s the way he looked at me—like he wanted to say more but couldn’t. Like whatever’s going on between him and Grayson is too complicated, too dark to put into words. I’ve never seen him like that before. Vulnerable. It’s like there’s a crack in his armor that he doesn’t want me to see.
But why do I feel like I’m the one who’s falling apart?
Lila
The hallway was empty and eerily quiet when I finally left the classroom. My mind was still racing with Aiden’s words, replaying them over and over like a broken record.
You don’t know what he’s capable of. You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.
What did that even mean? And why couldn’t he just tell me the truth instead of throwing out half-answers and storming off?
As I walked toward my locker, I heard a voice nearby. It was low and urgent, but unmistakably Aiden’s.
“She doesn’t know what she’s getting into,” he said, his tone sharper than I’d ever heard it. “You said this wouldn’t happen again. You promised.”
I froze, my heart hammering in my chest. He was on the phone, his back turned to me as he paced near the corner of the hallway.
“I don’t care what you have to do—just fix it,” Aiden hissed, his voice rising. “Because if she finds out the truth…” He trailed off, his shoulders tense.
I couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation, but his words lingered in the air like a threat. My pulse quickened as I backed away, careful not to make a sound.
What truth?