Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The means of revenge were unknown to me. But the next day, when I returned home, I found Clint coming out of our guest room. That guest room was where Lauren stayed.

"Julissa, you're back? I thought I'd give her a piece of my mind for you..." Clint scratched his head, looking embarrassed.

I pulled him to the balcony with a serious expression. "What did you do to her? Did you bully her? Don't use such methods; she hasn't done anything to me..."

I went on and on, not noticing Clint's discomfort. It wasn't until Lauren walked out of the room, yawning, that I realized something was off.

"He didn't bully me. I had some questions I couldn't solve, so I asked him for help. Right, Clint?" Lauren smiled brightly, tilting her head to look at Clint. To be fair, she was very pretty, with a kind of vibrant beauty. Her ever-smiling face was like the morning sun.

"Yes." Clint's face showed a mix of embarrassment and shyness. I seemed to understand something and let go of his hand.

I returned to my room, tears already soaking my homework paper. "Don't cry," I tried to comfort myself.

After Lauren came to our house, my parents and my childhood crush seemed almost bewitched, casting me aside in just a few days. I was afraid I would become bitter, that I would want to take back everything. I tried to keep my cool.

My parents comforted me a few times, saying that they had caused the death of Lauren's parents and that I shouldn't hold grudges against her. This situation felt like something out of a novel, where she was the resilient heroine, while I was the malicious supporting character in her life, who, after ruining her family, still begrudged her the things she got. I was just another source of her teenage angst.

Clint seemed to like coming to my house, but not to see me anymore. Laughter spilled out from the guest room, and I just continued to numb myself, trying to solve more problems.

Until that day, he knocked on my door and greeted me after a long time. "What's our little genius Julissa up to?"

I put down my workbook and turned to look at him. Maybe my gaze was too cold, and Clint paused for a moment before continuing to speak.

"Why do you seem so distant after just a few days?"

I raised the corner of my mouth and asked him back. "I remember you coming every day, just a wall away from me."

"I'm sorry, Julissa. I wanted to tell her to get along with you better."

"If you have something to say, just say it."

Clint scratched his head, still the same big guy who liked to stand up for others, only now it wasn't for me. "I wanted to ask if you'd be willing to switch rooms with Lauren. She's not in good health, and the guest room has no windows; it's too stuffy."

I remembered when I was little, being bullied and having an asthma attack, collapsing on the ground unable to breathe. Clint lay beside me, crying for a long time until the ambulance stretcher took me away. That was when he was six years old. He said he would never let me have an attack again. And now he wanted me to stay in the guest room because Lauren wasn't in good health.

I didn't want to fight with him, so I picked up my pen and continued writing my problems, but Clint was relentless. "Your parents caused the death of her parents, and you're still treating her like this. Do you know how happy Lauren was when she had her parents?"

My pen dropped to the floor, the only sound in the quiet room. The words I least wanted to hear and think about had appeared.

"Okay." I had no choice but to agree. Two lives stood between her and me, and it was destined that I would be accused of owing her again and again. I couldn't even scream that it wasn't like that at all, that I didn't know anything. I was just doing my homework at home, and suddenly I was burdened with the breakup of a family.

Maybe I should hand over everything, but people can't even change their preferences easily. I still couldn't stand cilantro, so how could I be expected to change my life in an instant without complaint?

The rooms were switched. I packed my valuable items and things that held meaning to me neatly into a box, at least not leaving in disgrace. As I brushed past Lauren, I apologized to her. "Sorry."

She pretended not to hear, smiling and discussing with Clint what kind of wallpaper to choose. When my parents came home and found out we had switched rooms, they breathed a sigh of relief and even praised me for growing up and being sensible.