Amy's facial features contorted, her fists clenched so tightly that her nails bit into her palms, but the pain was nothing compared to the fire raging inside her. Her stomach twisted into a tight, uncomfortable knot as she forced herself to display a pleasant expression.
"Wow, that's—that's amazing."
She felt so aggrieved, but the anger was far greater than the embarrassment.
Her vision blurred at the edges as she imagined, with painful clarity, how Quinn must have felt watching her act like a fool. She thought she had the ball in her court, but it turned out that all this time, she had been nothing more than a clown dancing to someone else's tune.
In fact, the more she thought about it, the more the fury pressed hard against her ribs until she almost couldn't breathe.
"Are you okay?" Quinn asked softly, concern etched into her tone as she watched Amy's cheeks turn beet red. She raised her hand, intending to touch her, but all Amy could imagine was Quinn secretly smirking at her while watching her tiptoe out of the room.
Why was she pretending to when all she did was laugh behind her back?!
Amy recoiled instinctively from the touch, her chest heaving with anger as she backed away. "Don't touch me," she said through gritted teeth, her eyes slightly reddening. Then, with a sharp motion, she smacked Quinn's hand away before turning to leave.
"What?" Quinn whispered to herself, staring at the back of her hand, which had turned red from the force of Amy's slap.
Her brows furrowed into a frown, a burning sensation spreading across her hand as she returned to her seat.
She couldn't even understand what was going on at all.
A few seconds later, the pain in her hand worsened.
Biting her lip, she used her uninjured hand to search for Dylan, her fiancé's contact on her phone, hoping he could bring her some ointment or something.
Beep~ Beep~
The call vibrated for a few seconds, but no one answered.
She pressed the call button again, but this time, it was rejected.
"What's going on now?" she muttered, dialing his number a third, fourth, and fifth time—only to be rejected every single time, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.
Nothing hurt more than a sister who suddenly became violent and a fiancé who refused to answer when she needed him.
In the end, she stood up to go to the health center herself.
"What happened to your hand, Quinn?" The school president, Aaron, peered at her as he approached, his gaze moving from her palm to her face. His soft brown eyes, framed by glasses, were filled with concern.
Quinn forced a smile and lied through her teeth. "I thought I was slapping a mosquito, but turns out it was my own hand."
The school president, of course, wasn't dumb enough to believe her excuse, but he also had no way of knowing who the perpetrator was. There were only a handful of people who would dare hit someone like Quinn.
Adjusting his glasses, he said, "Let me go get the first aid kit."
"Nooo," Quinn waved her other hand with a forced smile. "No need for that. I'll go to the health center instead."
"Oh… okay." Aaron adjusted his glasses again and nodded. "Let me accompany you, then."
Quinn gave him a small nod and a smile since she couldn't reject him again, but the pain wasn't something she could ignore. It didn't help that she was overly sensitive and always experienced normal pain at an intense level.
With Aaron's help, she arrived at the health center, but by then, she was already sweating buckets. What might have been a mere slap to others now sent stinging agony throughout her entire body.
The nurse immediately sat her down. Seeing her swollen palm, she asked gently, "How did you get slapped this badly?"
Avoiding her gaze, Quinn repeated the same lie she had fed Aaron. The nurse shook her head while applying ointment to her hand.
"Stop playing so rough next time. You're the one who ends up feeling the pain, okay?"
"Yes, thank you." With a pale face, Quinn forced a smile.
After tending to her palm—bandaging it even though Quinn refused—the nurse finally let her leave for class.
They had Calculus next, and it was a class she didn't want to miss. She immediately hurried along with Aaron, even as he told her to slow down. But she didn't want to miss a class she already struggled with.
"Be careful next time, as the nurse said. It's you feeling the pain, not the one who inflicted it, okay?" Aaron mumbled to her.
Taking a deep breath, Quinn was about to nod when her eyes caught sight of two familiar figures standing beneath the huge red oak tree.
She slowly came to a halt.
If it wasn't Amy… and the person she had been trying to reach for the past few minutes… who else could it be?
With her head lowered, Amy stood before Dylan, who towered over her with his hand resting on her head.
Quinn could clearly hear their conversation from where she stood since there was only a short distance between them. They couldn't see her because Dylan's back was facing her, his tall frame completely hiding Amy.
Dylan: I'll talk to her, okay? Don't be angry. You know she's your sister.
Amy shook her head, her soft voice reaching Quinn as she held onto Dylan's hand.
Amy: No need to talk to her… she might get angry at me. You know she always wanted to be the perfect person for you. So, no need to do anything. I will… I will just endure it.
Dylan took a deep breath, gripping Amy's shoulders as he locked eyes with her, his voice firm with determination.
Dylan: I'll tolerate anything except her deceiving your feelings. You're her sister, so you're like a sister to me. I won't let anyone mistreat you or make you feel less. That's my duty.
Amy stiffened slightly, something flickering in her eyes before she forced a smile—though it looked worse than a frown.
She muttered in a low voice, "Alright… thank you very much."
Dylan patted her head and said seriously, "It's what I should do. Not even your sister has the right to make you feel less, okay?"