He Killed Me Then Loved Me Chapter 04
Charles walked over to me, his gaze thunderous.
I knew he’d seen the whole thing with Arnold. I lowered my eyes to hide what I was feeling and said nothing.
A while later, he suddenly let out a scoff and fumed, “Who gave you the nerve?”
I remained silent.
Then the whispers rose around me again.
“What did she do? How did she piss Charles off this much?”
“He just lost to Arnold on the court and is still fuming. She walked right into it.”
“Not a big deal. It’s not like she’s some heiress. He can hit her and yell at her as he wants. Nothing will happen to him.”
“She crossed Charles. Bet her life’s about to become a living hell from here on out.”
This time, Charles didn’t stop them. He just looked at me coldly, trying to use this to force me to cave.
If I just apologized or made it clear that Arnold meant nothing to me, my life on campus would be a lot easier down the road.
But I didn’t want to cave. I’d been given a second chance. I wasn’t going to live my last life all over again.
We stared at each other in a silent standoff for I had no idea how long. Finally, Charles backed down. He shot me a long look, then left, followed by his friends.
After the crowd dispersed, I finally let out a slow breath.
Back in the dorm, I checked the mirror. A huge bump had swollen up on my forehead. I put on some ointment, climbed into bed, and drifted off, completely drained.
Early the next morning, I walked into the classroom to find everyone looking at me differently.
I washed the grime off my chair with practiced ease. Then, without so much as a flicker of expression, I fished the dead mice and roaches out of my desk and tossed them into the trash.
They’d pulled these stunts on me in my previous life more times than I could count.
Through it all, Charles stared at me, his expression shifting from mild amusement to total boredom.
Only after I sat down did he say, unhurried, “Catalina, you should know what to do, and what not to do.”
I calmly pulled out the textbooks I needed, then answered just as flatly, “I don’t understand.”
He leaned in close to my ear and scoffed. Then he whispered, “Stop flirting with guys. You can’t afford to mess with anyone here.”
I curled up my index finger, saying nothing.
From that day on, just like in my previous life, Charles cut off the money Damian had set aside for me. I found out about that when I went to the cafeteria for lunch and my card got declined.
Coincidentally, Arnold was right behind me. He paid for me and invited me to have lunch with him. Probably sensing my embarrassment, he offered to top up my meal card before leaving.
I said no. Then I went to the counter and grabbed a few free rolls. His eyes crinkled with amusement. But I could tell there wasn’t a trace of contempt in them.
“You from the Midwest or something?” He carried the rolls for me, his tone casual.
“Kinda,” I answered, my voice low.
When I was little, my parents dragged me from city to city, running from debt collectors. We went as far south as you could go, and as far north. So I’d spent a few years just about everywhere.
Then they dumped me here. They’d probably had enough of me, a dead weight in their eyes.
Lost in thought, before I knew it, I was standing outside my classroom.
Arnold and I weren’t in the same class. He handed me the rolls and waved at me, his smile bright. “See you around, Catalina.”
“See you around, Arnold.” I only said it inside.
A lot of my classmates saw us, including Charles. His expression darkened even more.
He snatched the rolls and hurled them to the floor. The plastic wrap split open. Soft white rolls scattered everywhere.
His eyes were bloodshot, and he practically gritted out, “Catalina, you think my words just go in one ear and out the other?”
But I didn’t care what he said. All I could see were those rolls.
I bent over and picked them up one by one in a daze, clutching them to my chest. Until a foot appeared in front of me.
Under that expensive shoe was a roll, completely flattened.
It was Charles. His voice was utterly hoarse. “This cheap stuff he gave you — is it really worth throwing away your pride?
“Do you really care about him that much?”
I lifted my head, tears streaming down my face, as I said, my voice choked, “Yes.”
I’d lived two lives. Arnold was the only one who ever helped me without asking for anything in return. The only one who never looked down on me because of where I came from.
For once, Charles said nothing. He just stood there, staring at me, his lashes trembling.
I stared right back at him.
I didn’t know how much time had passed before he suddenly said my name again, “Catalina.”
He spoke it slowly, drawing out each syllable like it had been sitting in his chest for a long time.
I quietly waited for him to go on.
But he said nothing more. He walked out of the classroom and ditched the rest of the afternoon.