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After driving around town for a bit, trying to catch up and just kill some time after school, we finally pulled up to the mansion. Skylar let out a whistle that bounced off the gates.
"Wow, Noah," she leaned in, excited to get a better view. "Do they have, like… a hundred servants, or does this place just look straight out of a movie?"
I rolled my eyes but couldn't help but smile a little. "Nope, no hundred servants here, Skylar," I replied, noticing she was already snapping a photo of the mansion from the car.
Once they dropped me off by the walkway, Skylar grinned and leaned over Gigi's seat. "Okay, prince of the mansion. Stay safe!"
Gigi playfully smacked her shoulder. "Don't say that! You'll jinx her!"
"My bad," Skylar smirked, reversing the car. "Come on, babe, let's hit the road."
I waved as they drove off, laughing to myself. They were definitely heading to Skylar's place… and probably not for a movie, considering how hands-on they were with each other. I shook my head at their uncomplicated relationship, feeling a mix of amusement and envy.
Turning back to the mansion, the silence was almost unsettling. You know, that kind of quiet that makes you realize just how big a place is. I pushed the door open and stepped inside, calling out, "Mom? Keith?" but no one answered.
The silence wrapped around me, heavy and echoey as I went into the living room, I spotted Adrien. He was sprawled on the couch, phone in hand, one arm draped casually over the backrest. The flickering TV cast a dim light on his face, accentuating the sharpness of his jaw.
I slowed my steps. "W—where are Mom and Keith?" I asked carefully, gripping the strap of my bag.
He didn't bother looking up. "Out," was his flat reply.
I frowned. "Out where?"
Still nothing. Just a lazy shrug from him, his focus glued to the phone.
I bit my cheek, feeling irritation build. "Thanks for the... detailed update," I said dryly, turning toward the stairs.
As I hesitated halfway up, chewing my lip, I glanced back at the living room. A part of me wanted to keep walking and avoid whatever he might say that would ruin my mood. But another part, the softer, stupider part, nudged me to at least thank him.
After all, he had stood up for me against Vanessa earlier. It might not have meant anything to him, but it really meant a lot to me.
With a sigh, I turned around and walked slowly back to the couch, my heart racing as I got closer. He was still there, flipping through his phone, acting like I didn't exist—as usual.
I stood there for a moment, feeling awkward, but finally forced myself to say something. "Hey," I started, my voice coming out a bit too soft.
He didn't even glance up. "What?"
I swallowed hard. "I just wanted to say… thank you. For earlier. In class."
This made him pause, finally looking at me with those piercing green eyes, studying my face like I'd just said something absurd. "For what?"
I fidgeted, twisting my fingers together. "For telling Vanessa to stop. I—I don't know why you did it, but I guess I'm… grateful."
For a second, I thought he might actually respond decently. But that familiar smirk appeared, slow and cutting.
"Don't flatter yourself," he said, leaning back on the couch. "I didn't do it for you."
I blinked, taken aback. "Then why—?"
"Because I had a fucking headache," he interrupted, mockery oozing from his voice. "And her voice was making it worse. The whole class sounded like dying hyenas, and I wasn't in the mood."
My mouth opened and closed again. His harsh tone stung, and I felt my cheeks heat up.
He scoffed, adding, "So don't start thinking I care. You could get bullied to death, and I wouldn't give a shit."
I stared at him, the tiny flicker of hope I had fading away. My throat tightened, and for a moment, I just stood there, absorbing his words as they echoed in my mind like a slap. I could feel my patience wearing thin. All week, I'd been trying—really trying—to keep quiet and keep the peace, convincing myself I could handle this new, messed-up reality. But something about his smug expression and careless tone made something inside me snap.
I took a shaky breath and, before I knew it, the words spilled out. "You know what, Adrien? You're not the only one who hates this!"
That got his attention. His phone slipped a bit from his hand as he looked at me, brows pulling together.
"I didn't ask for any of this either," I continued, my voice shaking but definitely loud. "You act like you're the only victim here, but newsflash—you're not! You think I want to live with the guy who made my life miserable? You think I like pretending everything's fine while my mom is finally happy for the first time in years, and all I can think about is how much I hate this?"
His expression shifted, caught between confusion and disbelief, but I didn't stop. I had to keep going.
"This marriage is taking a lot from me too, Adrien," I said, pointing a finger at him, my throat tightening with every word. "Just because I'm not breaking things and being a total jerk doesn't mean I love what's happening. I'm just trying to make it work, for my mom, for all of us. The least you could do is not make it harder!"
He opened his mouth, probably ready to say something cruel, but I cut him off, voice rising. "Would it kill you to be a decent human being for once? Just for one second? Because your attitude isn't helping anyone, least of all yourself!"
The room fell silent after that. My chest felt heavy, my face was flushed, and my hands were trembling, but I refused to look away.
Adrien just stood there, eyes wide, as if he couldn't believe what I was saying. He'd seen me cry before, seen me humiliated and nearly broken, but never like this—never so angry and defiant.
For a change, he didn't have anything to say.
His jaw tightened as he stared at me, something unreadable flickering in his eyes—almost like guilt, though I didn't dare to believe it. After a few seconds, he averted his gaze and ran a hand through his hair.
"Whatever," he muttered, quieter than before. "Do whatever the hell you want."
He brushed past me, leaving a charged silence in the air, and I stood there, frozen, trying to catch my breath. The anger that had poured out of me left behind a shaky relief mixed with a bit of fear.
Because I wasn't sure what would happen next time I dared to speak to him like that.