Chapter 10: An Unexpected Apology
Yvette's room was warm, glowing in soft pink like always. It smelled faintly of strawberries, her air freshener, probably, and her fairy lights blinked lazily along the wall. She had her laptop open to some rom-com she'd insisted would distract me, but the volume was turned so low we could barely hear it.
I wasn't really watching anyway.
My brain refused to quiet down. Even tucked beneath Yvette's ridiculous pile of plush pillows, I kept thinking about the letters, the whispers, the way every pair of eyes on campus seemed to burn a hole through me.
Yvette nudged me with her elbow. "You're staring into space again."
"Sorry," I murmured.
"Don't apologize. Just… maybe try laughing at the movie once in a while? Even fake it, so I don't feel like I'm babysitting a corpse."
I gave her a weak smile. "I'll try."
She rolled her eyes, but I caught the way she softened. For all her dramatic sighs and sarcastic remarks, Yvette cared more than she ever admitted.
The knock came just as she was about to say something else.
Both of us froze.
It was late. Way too late for visitors.
Another knock. Softer this time. Almost… nervous.
Yvette frowned. "Who the hell is that?"
"One of your playthings?" I asked her with a smirk.
"When I said I wanted you to make a joke it wasn't regarding something like that and that joke was not it." She told me but I could see the twitch of her lips.
She stood, smoothing her skirt like it was armor, and went to the door. "If it's one of those idiots from the boys' dorm pulling a prank…" She yanked it open mid-threat.
And stopped.
On the other side stood a boy I barely recognized. A junior, maybe fourteen or fifteen. His uniform hung loose on his wiry frame, and his hair clung to his forehead as if he'd been sweating or crying.
But it was his face that made my stomach lurch. One eye was swollen, already purpling. His lip split, his cheek blotched red.
Yvette's sarcasm evaporated. "What the hell happened to you?"
The boy's gaze darted past her, landing on me. His expression crumpled. "I…I came to see Isabella."
I sat up slowly. "Me?"
He stepped into the room like he expected to be thrown out any second. His hands twisted together, his shoulders hunched. And then, in a rush:
"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."
Okay…weird.
"For what?" I asked carefully.
His chin wobbled. "The letters. I… I put them in your locker."
There was only silence after he said those words. Surely this had to be some joke right?
I blinked at him, sure I'd misheard. "What?"
"It was me," he whispered. "It was just a prank, I swear. I didn't think… I didn't think it would hurt you this much. I thought…" His voice cracked, and he wiped at his nose with the back of his sleeve. "I thought it'd be funny. Like in the movies. Everyone's talking about you, and I thought making it dramatic would… I don't know. Make people laugh."
"Funny?" Yvette repeated, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. "You think tormenting someone with threats is funny?"
The boy flinched like she'd slapped him.
I just stared. My chest felt hollow, my skin buzzing. All this time, I'd been spiraling, convinced there was some shadowy figure tracking me, some hidden enemy closing in. And here he was, a scared kid with bruises on his face and guilt spilling out of his mouth.
I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to shake him until he understood what he'd done. But looking at him, so small, so wrecked, I couldn't find the anger. Not all of it.
"Who did that to you?" Yvette asked, pointing at his swollen face.
His eyes dropped. "A senior. He… caught me putting the last note in your locker. He said… he said I had to come apologize."
Something shifted in me.
A senior. One who cared enough to make him confess. One who didn't want credit.
My heart stuttered. "Was it Mateo?"
The boy froze. "He told me not to say."
Which was an answer in itself.
I leaned back, breath shaking. It was Mateo.
It made too much sense. He hated being praised for anything. He'd rather bite his tongue than admit to doing a good deed. But this? This was exactly like him, quiet, forceful, making things right behind the scenes.
And I'd yelled at him.
I'd accused him of not trusting me. I'd lashed out when he was probably just trying to protect me the whole time.
My throat tightened with guilt.
The boy shifted miserably on his feet. "I'm sorry," he said again, tears spilling now. "Please don't hate me."
I closed my eyes for a second, forcing air into my lungs. "Just… go back to your dorm," I said softly. "And don't ever pull something like this again. To anyone."
He nodded so fast I thought his head might snap off. Then he bolted, practically stumbling over his own feet in his rush to leave.
The room was quiet again. Too quiet.
Yvette shut the door firmly and turned to me, her expression unreadable. Then she smirked. "Well. Guess your boyfriend isn't completely useless after all."
I blinked at her.
She shrugged. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not on Team Mateo. Never have been. But if he's the one who scared that brat straight? That's a point in his favor."
A laugh slipped out of me. "If?" I asked her.
"Mateo doesn't look like someone who could throw a punch that hard to leave bruises but maybe I was wrong." She said to me,
"You really don't like him, do you?" I asked her.
Yvette wrinkled her nose. "He's too intense. And he gives me control-freak vibes. But you're dating him, so I'll tolerate him." Her smirk softened into something closer to a smile. "And hey, at least now we know the letters weren't from some psycho killer."
"Yeah…" I murmured, though the relief sat strangely in my chest.
Because part of me still wasn't sure.
But the bigger part, the part clinging to hope, wanted to believe Mateo had been right all along. That it was just a prank. That I wasn't being stalked. That the shadows were just shadows.
I sank back against her pillows, staring at the fairy lights twinkling above us. "Do you think… I was too harsh on him earlier?"
"Absolutely not," Yvette said without hesitation.
I shot her a glare.
She laughed. "What? You asked, and from what you told me, he was the one in the wrong for asking a question as stupid as that."
I rubbed my temples. "But I shouldn't have done that."
"You should have done that but anyway, if you want to make up with him, then do so. Kiss him and bump uglies."
I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at my lips anyway. Tomorrow, I'll apologise to him.