"I wonder what she could be hiding," Stella whispered to the empty classroom, her fingers itching as she pried open Tia's bag.
Tia had stepped away to the basin for a drink, leaving her belongings behind because she was totally oblivious of Stella's presence in the class. Stella's hand brushed against a leather-bound journal, and she pulled it out like a hunter retrieving a prize. In bold, elegant script, the words My Diary stared back at her.
Interest flared in Stella's eyes. She didn't know that this was a calculated lure. Tia had bought the journal specifically to play a dangerous game of psychological chess. The first page was a masterclass in deception, detailing a fictional crush designed to incite jealousy and chaos. Tia's plan was simple, she was to leave the bait, let Stella find it, and wait for her to run to Michael with the "news.", but she didn't expect Stella to search her bag.
Stella flipped the cover open. The heading—My New Crush—sent a jolt of adrenaline through her veins. A wide, predatory smirk stretched across her face. "What do we have here?"
She began to read, her eyes devouring the ink: Dear Diary, I met someone new, and I think I might be falling for him. I'm completely over Michael now. He's become so dull, so predictable. He can't even be compared to this new guy. This man gives me butterflies; he makes me forget every ounce of pain I've ever felt. I don't think I'll ever stop liking him because he's the only thing on my mind.
Stella's breath hitched. She frantically turned to the next page, desperate for a name, a location, a detail—anything. But the paper was mockingly blank. Disappointment gnawed at her, yet the thrill of the scandal remained. She was so absorbed in the revelation that the world around her blurred. She forgot the golden rule of a thief: never linger at the scene of the crime.
Outside in the hallway, Tia approached. Her footsteps were light, practiced, and silent against the polished floor, as if she suspected something was happening in the classroom. As she reached the door, she caught a glimpse of Stella hovering over her desk. Tia froze, pressing herself against the doorframe, watching through the narrow gap.
"What is she doing?" Tia breathed, her voice a ghost of a whisper. When she saw the journal in Stella's hands, a frown marred her features, though a part of her felt a dark satisfaction. So, it's come to this, Stella? You're actually rifling through my personal belongings now.
Inside, Stella was practically vibrating. "This is going to be such a juicy story for Michael," she giggled, the sound sharp and grating. She tucked the journal into the inner pocket of her jacket and turned toward the exit.
Tia bolted. She ducked around a corner in the hallway, her heart hammering against her ribs as she waited for the sound of Stella's retreating footsteps. Once the coast was clear, Tia stepped out, exhaling a long, shaky breath. "That was close."
The plan hadn't unfolded exactly as she had envisioned, but the result was the same: the bait had been taken. Yet, a cold realization settled in Tia's gut. Stella wasn't just a gossip; she was a predator. Tia made a silent vow never to leave her belongings unattended again. And she felt that if she was careless next time with her bag, Stella might steal something or maybe frame her.
Meanwhile, Stella stood outside the school building, clutching her jacket as if it contained a bar of gold. She read the entry one more time, laughing aloud at the irony. "This girl never learns. I'm sure it's some loser who doesn't even know she exists. Too bad she didn't write his name." She glanced over her shoulder, checking for Tia, before settling in to wait for Michael's arrival.
When Michael finally pulled up, he stepped out of his car with a heavy sigh. The weight of the semester was pressing down on him, and the last thing he wanted was to be on campus. However, academic necessity outweighed his exhaustion. He spotted Stella and forced a polite smile, but before he could even offer a greeting, she lunged at him, wrapping her arms around him in an uncomfortably tight embrace.
"Good morning, Michael!" she chirped.
Michael's arms remained at his sides. "Good morning," he replied, his voice sounded flat and drained.
"I called you last night, but you didn't pick up," Stella said, her lip trembling in a practiced pout.
"I was asleep. I didn't hear the ringer," Michael lied. The truth was, he had seen her name on the screen and simply turned the phone face-down.
"It's okay." Stella reached into her jacket and pulled out the journal, her eyes gleaming with artificial warmth. "I think this would wake you up."
Michael looked at the book skeptically. "What is it?"
"Why don't you see for yourself?" She flipped it to the first page and held it out like a sacred text.
Michael's eyes scanned the lines. The handwriting was painfully familiar, though his tired brain struggled to place it for a heartbeat. As the words sank in, his chest tightened. A new guy? Butterflies? Better than Michael?
He looked up at Stella, with a guarded expression. "Who wrote this?"
"Tia did."
The name hit him hardly. Tia has a crush? She's keeping a diary about someone else? The thought sparked a sudden, unwanted fire in his chest.
"What's his name?" Michael asked, his voice was low as he struggled to maintain his composure. He didn't want to care, but the sting of being called "boring" in ink was hard to ignore.
Stella shrugged dismissively. "I don't know. She didn't put it in there."
A dull ache began to throb behind Michael's temples. The idea of Tia finding happiness with someone else—someone who supposedly surpassed him—was a bitter pill to swallow. He tried to tell himself it was a prank, or perhaps someone else's book, but he knew that handwriting too well. It was hers.
"Where did you find this?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.
Stella ran a hand through her hair, looking away. "On a desk... in the classroom. It was just sitting there."
"Then how did you know it was Tia's?"
"I... she must have forgotten it. I was going to return it, but I got curious."
Michael's gaze turned cold. "Why do I get the feeling you're lying to me, Stella?"
Stella's face instantly shifted into a mask of wounded innocence. "I would never lie to you, Michael," she said, reaching out to squeeze his hand.
Michael pulled back slightly, handing the journal back to her. "You should return it."
He began walking toward the class, and Stella hurried to keep pace, clinging to his arm. Michael fought the rising tide of jealousy. He had spent so much time convincing himself he didn't care about Tia, so why did a few sentences on a page feel like a betrayal?
As they entered the classroom, Stella was so preoccupied with Michael that she forgot to hide the journal. Tia, already seated, spotted the book immediately. She watched as Stella sat down next to Michael, acting as if she owned the place.
Tia stood up and walked over, wearing a calm expression. "Good morning," she said, her voice steady. "Can I have my journal back now, Stella?"
Caught off guard, Stella's face flushed. She slowly pulled the book from the desk. "You misplaced it. I was just waiting for the right moment to give it back."
"I know," Tia replied with a sharp edge to her smile. "And I'm sure you didn't resist the urge to read it either."
"Excuse me? I did no such thing!" Stella snapped, her voice pitching higher.
Tia's smile widened, though it didn't reach her eyes. "If you say so," she whispered, snatching the book from Stella's grip. She didn't acknowledge Michael's presence, she turned on her heel and returned to her seat.
Michael's eyes followed Tia, his gaze lingering on her back. Stella noticed. She tried to reclaim his attention with frantic chatter, but Michael wasn't listening. He looked at Stella, then back at Tia, his mind a whirlwind of doubt and irritation.
Finally, he held up a hand to silence Stella. "I need you to stop for a minute. I'm going to rest my head. Wake me up when Marcus gets here."
Stella nodded obediently, watching as Michael folded his arms on the desk and buried his face. She sat in silence until Marcus arrived, tapping Michael's shoulder as requested. As the two boys began to talk, Stella found herself sidelined, treated like an afterthought.
A pang of loneliness hit her. For a fleeting second, she missed the easy, honest conversations she used to have with Tia. But she quickly shook the feeling. Tia would only reject her now. Stella settled into her seat, bracing herself for the long game. She would endure Michael's coldness and his silence. She decided that she would wait until the day he finally realized she was the only one for him