Joycelyn’s POV
When I pushed the door open, I’d planned to go full scorned–girlfriend–catches–cheating–boyfriend.
But as the door swung wide, I realized–why waste time on amateur hour?
Let’s cut straight to the main event.
I switched my expression to casual confusion in an instant, eyeing them as they practically pole–vaulted away from each other.
“Where is everyone?” I asked, deliberately glancing past them to scan the empty chemistry lab. “Wasn’t the whole senior class supposed to meet here for the score reveal?”
Today was SAT score release day.
Usually, everyone checked their scores privately at home on their phones, then shared screenshots
in the senior class Discord server for the school records.
But this year, Principal Alfred Green–conveniently Raven’s father–had announced that all seniors
would gather at school for a unified “score celebration.”
I knew exactly why. Raven had calculated her score at 1570, potentially the highest in Boulder High’s twenty–year history as a STEM magnet school.
She wanted an audience of background characters to witness her triumphant moment.
And more importantly…
She was desperate to watch as her former rival–the girl who’d always edged her out by those
crucial few points–finally crashed and burned in front of everyone.
Nathan’s panicked expression began to fade as he realized I wasn’t questioning why his hands had been on Raven’s waist. He ran his fingers through his hair, that nervous tell I’d noticed months ago.
Before he could speak, I narrowed my eyes at his face.
12:27
Touchdown PLAY: Cheer Queen vs. Quarterback King
42.1%
Chapter 9
“Your mouth looks all red and swollen,” I said, my voice dripping with fake concern. “Did you eat something you’re allergic to? Maybe some of those strawberries from the cafeteria?”
Even without playing the jealous girlfriend card, I could still mess with his head.
Nathan froze like he’d been caught in headlights, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.
Before he could stammer out whatever lame excuse his C–average brain was formulating, the
hallway outside erupted with voices and footsteps.
Moments later, Principal Green bustled in with what looked like half the senior class and the entire media production club trailing behind him.
“Set the tripod over by the whiteboard,” he directed, adjusting his Boulder High polo shirt importantly. “James, is the livestream connection tested? And make sure those wireless mics are synced–the superintendent and school board will be watching from the district office!”
I leaned against the lab table, watching the chaos unfold with growing amusement.
Principal Green clearly wanted to broadcast his precious daughter’s “historic achievement” to the entire Colorado school district.
Well, if our devoted principal was providing such an elaborate stage… I might as well give Boulder High a finale they’d be gossiping about until their twenty–year reunion.
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