Whispers In The Hallways

Camilla's POV,

The car ride to school was torture.

Every time Theon's hand shifted on the steering wheel, I remembered how those fingers had felt on my skin. Every time he glanced at me, I remembered the heat in his eyes when he'd kissed me senseless. And every time he smiled that knowing, devastating smile, I remembered exactly what he'd promised to do to me.

"You're doing it again," he said, his voice low and amused.

"Doing what?" I tried to sound innocent, but my voice came out breathy.

"Thinking about last night." His hand moved to my thigh, fingers splaying possessively over my jeans. "I can practically see it written all over your face."

My cheeks burned. "I'm not…"

"Liar." He squeezed gently, and heat pooled between my legs. "But that's okay, baby. I've been thinking about it too. All fucking night."

God, the way he said it. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like we did this every day.

"Theon–" I started, but we were already pulling up a block from school, just like I'd asked.

He killed the engine and turned to face me fully, his eyes intense. "Tonight. When you get home. We're finishing this."

It wasn't a question. It was a promise.

I nodded, not trusting my voice, and climbed out before I did something stupid like kiss him in broad daylight where anyone could see.

But as I walked toward the school entrance, I felt eyes on me. Lots of them.

My stomach dropped to the floor.

~~~~~~

I knew something was wrong the second I stepped through the doors.

The usual whispers were louder today, more pointed. People weren't just glancing at me, they were openly staring, phones out, heads bent together in clusters.

Mia appeared in front of me like a viper, her crew flanking her on either side.

"Well, well, well." Her smile was vicious. "Look who decided to grace us with her presence. How was the ride, Camilla? Comfortable?"

My blood went cold. "What are you talking about?"

She held up her phone, and my heart stopped.

It was a photo—crystal clear, taken this morning—of me climbing into Theon's Lamborghini. And below it, another one from yesterday. And another. Someone had been documenting every time he picked me up or dropped me off.

But it was the caption that made me want to throw up.

*Ice Queen Camilla's new sugar daddy. Guess nerds do whatever it takes to upgrade from the bus.*

It had hundreds of likes. Dozens of comments.

"Knew she was a slut underneath all that smart girl act."

"How much do you think he pays her?"

"Does her brother know she's whoring herself out?"

"Oops." Mia's voice dripped with fake sympathy. "Looks like your little secret's out. So tell me, how much does he pay per ride? Or is it per hour?"

The girls around her laughed, sharp and cruel.

"It's not–he's not–" I couldn't get the words out, my throat closing up.

"Not what? Not fucking you?" Mia stepped closer, her voice dropping to a vicious whisper. "Come on, Camilla. We all know what girls like you do to get attention from guys like that. You think we're stupid?"

Someone bumped into me from behind, hard. My bag fell, and my portfolio went sliding across the floor. Before I could grab it, someone else kicked it, sending papers scattering.

Then I saw it. The coffee cup tilting, spilling dark liquid all over my white shirt, soaking through to my skin.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" The girl's apology was as fake as Mia's sympathy.

I stood there, frozen, coffee dripping down my chest, my work scattered and trampled on the floor, phones pointed at me from every direction.

"Smile for the camera, sugar baby," someone called out, and the laughter grew louder.

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think properly. Couldn't do anything but stand there while my world crumbled around me.

~~~~~

To be honest, I don't remember walking to the bathroom… or locking myself in the stall… or even pulling out my phone with shaking hands.

But suddenly I found myself texting Theon.

[Me: Can you pick me up early?]

I stared at the message, my vision blurring with tears I refused to let fall. What was I doing? I couldn't just leave. I couldn't just–

My phone buzzed in my trembling hands as his reply came.

[Theon: I'm outside. Come now.]

So I grabbed my bag, left my ruined portfolio in the trash, and walked out of that bathroom with my head high even though I was falling apart inside.

The hallways felt like a gauntlet. Every pair of eyes, every whisper, every barely concealed laugh followed me to the exit.

But then I saw him.

Theon was leaning against his car, arms crossed, looking like every dark fantasy I'd ever had. When his eyes found mine, something dangerous flashed across his face.

He saw the coffee stain, my red-rimmed eyes. Basically everything.

His jaw clenched so hard I could see the muscle jump.

He opened the passenger door without a word, and I slid in, grateful when he closed it and blocked out the stares. He rounded the car with controlled, lethal grace and got in beside me.

The engine roared to life, and we pulled away from the school. Away from the whispers and the photos and the humiliation.

As we drove past the school environment, he didn't speak, neither did he ask about anything. Just drove with one hand on the wheel and the other reaching over to lace his fingers through mine.

That simple touch broke something in me.

We drove for fifteen minutes before he pulled into an empty parking garage, the kind attached to fancy office buildings downtown. He killed the engine and turned to face me.

"Tell me what happened."

Looking at his eyes, it was clear that it wasn't a request.

So I did. I told him about the photos, the captions, the comments. About Mia and the coffee and my destroyed portfolio. About how this wasn't even the first time, just the worst time. And about how I'd been invisible until he came along, and now I wished I could disappear again.

By the time I finished, my voice was shaking and my hands were fists in my lap.

"Look at me, Camilla."

I forced my eyes up to meet his, and what I saw there stole my breath.

Pure. Fucking. Rage.

"Those people?" His voice was deadly calm. "They don't matter. None of them fucking matter."

"But they–"

"No." He reached over, cupping my face in his hands. "You listen to me right now. You are not what they say you are. You're not a joke, not a target, and sure as hell not someone to be ashamed of."

"Theon–"

"I'm going to fix this." His thumb brushed away a tear I didn't realize had fallen. "I'm going to make sure everyone knows exactly what you are to me."

My heart stopped. "What am I to you?"

His eyes dropped to my lips, then back up, and the heat there was scorching.

"Mine," he said simply. "You're mine, Camilla. And it's time everyone knew it."

Before I could process that, before I could ask what he meant, he pulled me across the center console and into his lap. I gasped, my hands flying to his shoulders for balance.

"Let me make you forget," he murmured against my lips. "Let me make all of it disappear."

His mouth was a breath away from mine when his phone rang.

We both froze.

The screen lit up between us, and my stomach practically twisted when I saw the name.

‘Liam.’

Theon's eyes never left mine as he reached for the phone. His hand settled on my hip, holding me in place on his lap.

He answered, his voice perfectly controlled. "Hey, man… Yeah, everything's fine."

But his other hand slid under my coffee-stained shirt, fingers tracing patterns on my bare skin, and I had to bite my lip to keep from making a sound.

Everything was most definitely not fine.