“You’ve been quiet,” Vanessa said to Logan one day after class, her tone syrupy sweet, her voice designed to needle under his skin. “Something on your mind?”
Logan’s jaw tightened, and he muttered, “Not now,” brushing past her without so much as a glance.
But Vanessa wasn’t one to let things go. She turned on her heel, her eyes narrowing as she called after him, “You’re still hung up on her, aren’t you? Emma.” Her voice dripped with fake sympathy, laced with just enough venom to make the words sting. “It’s cute, really. Watching you try to save her from… herself.”
Logan stopped dead in his tracks, his fists clenching at his sides. I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he forced himself to stay calm even as her words dug deeper.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said through gritted teeth.
Vanessa’s smile widened, triumphant. “Oh, I think I do. You can’t stand seeing her with Caleb, can you? But here’s the thing, Logan—you’re not in the picture anymore. So why don’t you focus on what you’ve got?”
Her words were sharp enough to cut glass, and Logan’s reaction told me they’d struck true. His jaw tightened further, the muscles in his neck flexing as he turned and walked away without another word. I could see the effort it took to hold himself back, the storm of anger and frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.
Vanessa stood there, her smirk firmly in place as she watched him go. Her gaze flicked toward me, and the satisfaction in her eyes made my stomach churn. She wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.
Vanessa thrived on control, on weaving chaos and watching the fallout. If Logan wasn’t going to play by her rules, she’d find another way to get what she wanted. And as I stood there, feeling the weight of her schemes pressing down on me, I realized one thing: Vanessa always had a next move.
And I wasn’t sure I could stop her.