ELLE’S POV
Noah was kissing me and I let him. His lips were surprisingly soft against mine, gentle yet insistent. My heart hammered against my ribs like it was trying to escape. His hands cradled my face, fingers threading through my hair, sending electric currents down my spine.
The scent of his cologne—something expensive and woody—filled my senses. For one wild, reckless moment, I forgot everything else. I forgot the years of torment, the cruel nicknames, the humiliating pranks. I forgot that I was Elle Willsmith, scholarship kid, and he was Noah Roth, heir to half of Manhattan.
Suddenly, I remembered who he was (the bully) and who I was (the bullied) and I pushed him away but he held me back with his hand holding my back in position. My palms pressed against his chest, feeling his heartbeat racing beneath my fingertips.
"Stop," I managed to say, the word muffled against his lips.
He didn't seem to hear—or chose not to. I didn't know how else to stop this because this act was enough to throw my entire world into confusion. So I closed my mouth tightly and he opened his eyes to meet mine. That smirk crept to his face again, the one that had preceded countless humiliations.
"What's wrong, Cinderella? Afraid you'll turn back into a pumpkin?" he whispered, his breath warm against my cheek.
I wriggled out of his grasp and got to my feet, my legs trembling beneath me. "That's not even the right fairy tale reference," I snapped, trying to sound angry instead of flustered.
He leaned back on his elbows, looking up at me with that infuriating confidence. "You could educate me on fairy tales some time. Over dinner, maybe?"
"Are you serious right now?" I grabbed my books and bag, shoving scattered sheet music inside. "Is this some kind of sick joke to you? Another way to humiliate the scholarship kid?"
His smile faltered. "Elle—"
"Save it." I turned on my heel and walked out, my heart still pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it echoing down the hall.
When I was far away from the piano class, I heaved a deep sigh of relief, leaning against the wall and closing my eyes. What just happened? Noah Roth had kissed me. Me. The girl he'd been tormenting since day one. And worse, I'd kissed him back.
"Get a grip, Elle," I muttered to myself. "It's probably just another one of his games."
When I was outside, I sat down on a bench to calm myself. The cool autumn air helped clear my head, but my lips still tingled from the kiss. I touched them absently, then jerked my hand away as if burned.
Just then my phone rang and it was mom calling to congratulate me. I had texted her after the contest but she hadn't called and I figured she was probably busy with her second job.
"My superstar!" she squealed the moment I picked up.
Despite everything, I smiled. "Hey, Mom."
"I still can't believe it! My baby won! Mrs. Hernandez from 3B saw the whole thing on the school's livestream, she was waiting for her grandson to perform, and she came running to tell me! I nearly dropped a whole tray of glasses!"
The excitement in her voice made my confusion-spiraling mind feel the feeling of happiness again. Winning the contest suddenly felt real in a way it hadn't before.
"I'm so sorry I couldn't be there in person, honey. This double shift is killing me, but the extra money—"
"It's okay, Mom," I cut in. "Really. I know you would've been there if you could."
"So tell me everything! What did you sing? Were you nervous? Did those rich kids finally shut their mouths when they heard you?"
I laughed, the sound helping to dispel the lingering tension from the encounter with Noah. "I sang that song we used to listen to on the radio when I was little—you know, 'Chasing Stars'? And yes, I was terrified. But once I started singing, it was like... like everything else disappeared."
"You have no idea how proud I am, Elle-Belle. Your dad would have been over the moon."
My throat tightened at the mention of my father. "Yeah. I think he would have."
"So what happens now? Does this mean scholarships? Record deals? Hollywood?"
I laughed again. "Slow down, Mom. One of the judges wants to meet with me on Monday. She has connections at Juilliard, but she thinks I should learn to play piano to accompany myself."
"Juilliard?" My mother's voice rose an octave. "Baby, that's your dream school!"
"I know," I said softly. "But I need to learn piano first, and fast. She wants to see progress by Monday."
I asked if she'd be coming home tonight and she said yes, we needed to celebrate. I remembered the piano class and I asked her if there was anyone she knows who could teach me.
"Piano teachers?" She sounded doubtful. "Honey, those cost a fortune. Maybe one of your school friends could help? What about that Lucas boy? He seems sweet on you."
"Lucas doesn't play," I sighed. "And he's not sweet on me, we're just friends."
"If you say so," she said, not sounding convinced. "Look, I've got to run—Mrs. Holden is giving me the evil eye. But I'll pick up a cake on the way home. Your favorite!"
"Red velvet?" I perked up.
"Is there any other kind? Love you, superstar. See you tonight."
"Love you too, Mom."
She said she didn't know any piano teachers and I felt sad again, wondering how I was going to get back to Judge 4 by Monday if I didn't find someone to teach me soon.
When she disconnected the call, I stood up to leave for home when a car stopped beside me. It was Noah's sleek black Maserati, the one his parents had given him for his birthday last month.
The window rolled down to reveal his annoyingly perfect face as he shouted. "Jump in."