LIKE LOVE OBSESSION

The early morning light spilled through the tall windows of Rosewood High, casting long shadows across the empty hallway. It was rare for the school to feel this quiet—a peaceful kind of eerie. I usually relished moments like this, but today, something felt...off.

I hadn't planned to be here so early, but sleep had been a fleeting guest last night. My thoughts, tangled in Sinister's strange behavior and Liam's unexpected rescue, had left me restless. Hoping to distract myself, I decided to sort through my locker before the day officially began.

But as I approached, I froze mid-step. Someone was already there.

At first, I thought I was imagining it. The hallway was deserted, except for the figure standing in front of my locker. My pulse quickened as I watched him open it with surprising ease.

Sinister.

What was he doing?

Instead of confronting him, I ducked behind the corner, peering out cautiously. My heart thudded loudly in my chest as I watched him pull something out of my locker. He didn't hesitate, didn't fumble—just moved with a strange, deliberate precision.

He wrapped the item in plastic, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. Then, as if it were nothing, he walked down the hallway and tossed it into a trash bin without so much as a glance back.

My mind raced. Why would Sinister have the combination to my locker? And what was he throwing away?

I didn't think; I just acted.

"Sinister." My voice cut through the silence like a knife.

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned slowly, his expression unreadable, as if he had rehearsed it.

"Grace," he said, his voice steady. "You're here early."

"I could say the same to you," I replied, crossing my arms. "What are you up to?"

"Just needed to check something," he said casually, his tone betraying nothing. He slipped his hands into his pockets and shrugged as though this was the most normal thing in the world.

"Check something?" I pressed, tilting my head. "In my locker?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he gave me one last unreadable look, then turned on his heel and walked away.

His nonchalance only made me more suspicious. The hallway stretched out in front of me, silent once again, but the tension in the air remained heavy.

Unable to resist, I walked over to the trash bin. My fingers hovered above the plastic bag he had tossed. Do I really want to know?

Curiosity won out.

The sour smell hit me first. Wrinkling my nose, I carefully unwrapped the bag. Inside was a bottle of sauce—the very same sauce that had mysteriously spilled all over me the other day. My stomach churned.

Why would Sinister have this?

A guy like him, polished and precise, didn't seem the type to carry a sauce bottle around, let alone toss it into someone's locker. It didn't take a genius to piece things together.

My mind flashed back to the humiliation I'd felt as the sticky mess soaked through my uniform. It hadn't been an accident. It had been deliberate.

But why?

I stared down the hallway where Sinister had disappeared. For the first time, I felt a flicker of something unfamiliar—confusion.

Was this his way of keeping people at a distance? A twisted way of asserting control? Or was there something else entirely beneath his perfect exterior?

One thing was certain: Sinister wasn't as untouchable as he wanted everyone to believe.

"Is something wrong?"

Sophia's voice startled me out of my spiraling thoughts.

"Hmm? Oh, no, not really," I mumbled, biting my lower lip nervously.

"But you seem troubled," Sophia said, leaning in with her trademark concern that sometimes felt more like prying.

Before I could respond, the sharp clatter of a file hitting the teacher's desk drew everyone's attention.

"Settle down, class," our homeroom teacher announced brightly, brushing a few loose strands of hair from her face as she scanned the room. "Now, as you all know, after the midterms comes one of the most exciting events of the year—the school festival!"

Her enthusiasm was met with dead silence. Most of us were too drained from exams to match her energy.

"Alright then," she continued undeterred, "for this year's festival prep committee leaders, we have Sinister and Grace!"

I blinked. My jaw might as well have hit the desk. Wait... what?

Murmurs rippled through the room as heads turned toward me and Sinister. Even Sophia shot me a surprised look. My immediate reaction was disbelief. Why me?

"Let's give them a round of applause for encouragement!" the teacher chimed, clapping her hands as if that would magically boost morale.

Sinister, however, was quick to react. "Wait," he said, raising his hand, his voice calm but firm.

At the same moment, I stood abruptly. "There must be some mistake," I blurted, my voice shaking with panic.

"Perfect!" the teacher said, completely ignoring our protests. "You two will make a fantastic team!"

Sinister pinched the bridge of his nose, a rare crack in his usual cool demeanor. "I was assigned as the chief director, but I don't have the time—or patience—to guide her through everything."

The teacher crossed her arms, her cheerful tone dropping a notch. "And I didn't ask you to guide her. You'll both figure it out as co-leaders."

The class snickered softly at Sinister's visible frustration, and my panic only deepened. The teacher turned to me, her gaze softening slightly.

"Grace, this is a great opportunity for you to learn more about the school. Plus, I hear you're quite talented in arts and performance. You'll handle stage production and public relations."

I swallowed hard, the weight of everyone's eyes pressing on me. "But I'm new here. I don't even know how things work—"

"Exactly! The perfect chance to learn," the teacher interrupted, smiling triumphantly like she'd just solved a puzzle.

"Grace," Sinister's voice cut through the awkward tension.

I turned toward him, catching the flicker of exasperation in his gaze.

"Meet me in the club room after school," he said, his tone brisk. "Building B."

"Uhm… sure," I replied, though my voice didn't sound as confident as I hoped.

He arched an eyebrow. "Do you even know where that is? You got lost last time, didn't you?"

Heat crept into my cheeks. "I'll figure it out," I shot back, a little too defensively.

Sinister sighed, muttering under his breath. "Forget it. I'll find you after class and show you the way."

The teacher clapped her hands, effectively ending the exchange. "Great! I know you'll both do an amazing job."

As the lesson began, I slumped in my chair, my mind racing. How had I ended up in this mess? Co-leading the school festival with him felt like a punishment rather than an honor.

Sophia nudged me, leaning close. "Well, looks like you'll be spending a lot of time with Sinister," she whispered, her voice laced with something I couldn't quite place.

I forced a weak smile, my thoughts elsewhere. What was he thinking? Why had he looked so… troubled earlier?

And why, despite everything, did my heart race at the thought of spending time with him?

The final bell rang, and I barely managed to gather my things before Sinister appeared at my desk.

"Let's go," he said, not even waiting for me to respond.

I hurried after him, struggling to match his long strides. "You know," I said, trying to lighten the mood, "you could try being a little more enthusiastic about this whole festival thing."

He shot me a sidelong glance, his lips twitching in what might've been a smirk. "And you could try not to get lost on the way to a meeting."

"Touché," I muttered.

The walk to the club room was surprisingly quiet, save for the occasional scrape of our shoes on the tiled floor. When we reached the door, he paused, his hand resting on the handle.

"Here's the deal," he said, turning to face me. His expression was serious, his tone measured. "You focus on your part, and I'll focus on mine. We don't need to overcomplicate this."

I raised an eyebrow. "You're really not a team player, are you?"

His smirk returned, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I don't do unnecessary drama."

Too late for that, I thought, but I kept it to myself.

As we stepped into the room, the faint smell of paper and paint filled the air. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a soft glow on the scattered art supplies and props.

The classroom felt heavy, almost stifling, as though the tension had taken on a life of its own. Every word, every movement, seemed amplified in the silence. Sinister's voice broke through, calm and authoritative, like he was laying down the law.

"For the next three weeks, we'll meet every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday after school for half an hour," he said, his gaze locking onto mine. It wasn't a suggestion—it was a command. He stood there, confident and composed, as if he'd done this a hundred times before. "The festival will run for two days, with performances scheduled for the second day."

"Oh, okay," I managed to say, though my voice wavered. "But what about the other students?" I glanced around the empty room, trying to make sense of it all.

"What other students?" His raised eyebrow and the slight tilt of his head made the question seem almost playful.

"There have to be more people on the committee, right? It can't just be the two of us."

He smirked faintly, a glimmer of amusement breaking through his otherwise serious demeanor. "Nope. It's just us. We're working alone."

The words hung in the air, leaving a knot in my stomach. I had no choice but to accept the reality.

Sinister shifted his attention to a stack of papers, scanning them with a focus that was hard to interrupt.

I leaned forward, my mind already brimming with ideas. " So I've checked the original drafts it says The cheerleading team is the first performance. I've reviewed their music, and their entrance formation needs work. The intro is soft and calm, right? Then it bursts into a loud, cheerful melody. What if they enter from both sides of the stage and meet in the center when the music shifts?"

He paused, his eyes lifting from the papers to meet mine. For a moment, there was a flicker of surprise. He reached for the proposal I'd written and studied it intently.

"You came up with this today?" he asked, his tone curious, almost impressed. "You were only assigned this job this morning."

"Well, I had lunch," I said, shrugging lightly, a nervous smile tugging at my lips. "Oh, and I drafted a PR plan too. Want to see it?"

His gaze lingered on me, unreadable, before he stood abruptly. "You… surprise me more than I expected," he muttered, almost as if talking to himself. Was that a compliment? I couldn't tell.

"I'll review this tonight," he said, holding up my papers. Then, without warning, he extended his phone toward me. "Your number."

"Oh, uh, sure. For committee discussions, right?" I fumbled with his phone, typing in my number.

He was quiet for a moment before adding, in a voice just above a whisper, "No. For a private reason."

My heart skipped a beat. "Huh?"

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said, brushing off my confusion as he walked out.

By the time I got home that evening, I was exhausted. My phone buzzed, and I fished it out, expecting something routine. Instead, it was a text from Sinister.

You home?

I blinked, caught off guard by how casual it was. Unsure how to respond, I typed back:

 Not yet, still on my way :P

His reply came almost instantly.

Takes longer than I thought.

 Your text sounds exactly like you, 

Should I sound different? 

 No. I didn't mean that.… Well, head home safely. I'll see you tomorrow.

I stared at the screen, my thoughts swirling. Then another message came through.

Good night.

I couldn't stop the small smile that crept onto my face. For the first time since I'd started at Rosewood, something felt… different.

The next morning, I opened my locker to find a carton of strawberry milk. My heart skipped a beat—I already knew who had left it. Before I could dwell on it, Sophia's voice cut through my thoughts.

"Did you figure out who it is?" she asked, smirking like she had all the answers.

"I think so," I said, glancing toward Liam. He caught my gaze and quickly looked away, his face turning a shade redder. hmmmm he's unecpectly cute sometimes

Before I could say anything, the classroom door slammed open. Megan and Emily walked in, their expressions uneasy. My stomach tightened.

"New girl," Megan started, her voice hesitant. "I have something to tell you."

Emily added quickly, "Yeah, me too."

"We're sorry. About everything. The locker, the wallet… it was all us," Megan admitted, her voice trembling. "I… I'm really sorry."

I wasn't surprised. The class had probably pieced it together by now. But their timing threw me off they're making an apology when they were eager to bully me until this point how.... should I interpret this awakard apology?

"megan mother is a general manager of RR cosmetics waht if she has to follw the order regardlesss of her willgness?" sophia words rings inside my head-

it's such an awkard moment to make an apology

"Why now?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended. "Is someone making you do this?"

Megan flinched. "N-no! It's nothing like that!"

I narrowed my eyes. "Is it Sinister?"

The silence that followed was answer enough. Megan's reaction confirmed my suspicions. Sinister, who had been sitting quietly at his desk, stood and left the room without a word. My thoughts raced, anger and confusion swirling together.

"I can't forgive you," I said, my tone firm. "Not like this. Come back when you're truly sorry."

I rushed out of the classroom to find Sinister. This time, Liam stopped me.

"Grace, where are you going?"

"To find Sinister."

"Why?"

"Did you know it already? Do you know why he's bullying me so much? Why he made Megan apologize and then slid off the hook alone?"

"That's the part where you're misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding? What am I misunderstanding? I saw him pull out an armful of sauce bottles from his locker in secret yesterday. Those were the sauces I was covered in the other day. And I heard that Sinister met with Megan and Emily privately the day before the wallet incident. You still think I'm misunderstanding?"

"Yes, I do. You first need to calm down." Liam continued slowly after a brief pause. "About the locker incident and the missing wallet—Sinister has been privately investigating the incidents happening around you."

"Investigate?"

"And he, of course, went to Megan first. Everyone knows it's her work, and he only needed solid evidence. It seems his secretary searched the CCTV for that evidence, which, by the way, is illegal. I believe he collected those sauce bottles from Megan too. He even asked me to search up all school violence precedents to help your case."

"Is that true?" I was too stunned to speak. Sinister was supposed to be mean and the villain. How? I mean, why is he doing this much for me? He hated me, right? Then why is he acting like this? But Sophia told me something opposite to this. Sophia's description and my own experience about Sinister are totally opposite to this behavior.

"Sigh I've told him to tell you before stirring things up. Why doesn't he listen? I mean, he never listens."

I heard a loud beep inside my ears.

"Hey, are you okay?" Liam asked.

"I need to find him."

"Gotta go," I said to Liam, rushing off.

I needed to find Sinister.