What's Wrong with Miss Bratty?

Yvienna couldn't move. Her body felt stiff, her mind a whirlwind of uncertainty. She let him hug her, though she couldn't decide if she was ready for it—ready for him. Was she prepared to open her heart again? Love wasn't just about happiness; it came with its share of pain. Risking her heart once more felt daunting.

When he finally released her, his hands rested gently on her shoulders, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"Can I drive you home?" His voice was low, almost a whisper.

She nodded, unable to find her voice, and his face lit up with a smile that seemed to brighten the space between them.

As they walked to his car, he held her hand, his grip warm and steady. He opened the passenger door, motioning for her to get in, before settling into the driver's seat himself. They exchanged a smile as they buckled their seatbelts, and then the car roared to life.

Halfway down the road, raindrops began to dot the windshield, quickly turning into a downpour. The rhythmic sound of rain filled the car, and Yvienna noticed how mesmerized he seemed by the weather.

Without a word, he reached over and intertwined his fingers with hers. A chuckle escaped her lips as his joy became infectious. For a moment, the world outside melted away, leaving just the two of them and the rain.

They arrived at her house just as the rain picked up. He jumped out of the car, grabbed an umbrella from the backseat, and quickly opened it. His clothes were already damp, but he didn't seem to care. Shielding himself and Yvienna with the umbrella, he helped her out of the car and guided her to the front door.

Inside, her mother sat on the couch, her expression unreadable. As they stepped in, she stood abruptly and hurried upstairs without a word.

Yvienna frowned. What's her problem?

Kyle shifted awkwardly beside her, but before she could say anything, her mother reappeared, a towel in hand. To Yvienna's surprise, the towel wasn't for her. Her mother walked straight to Kyle, fussing over his wet clothes.

"Change into something dry. Follow me," her mother instructed, handing him some of her father's clothes before leading him upstairs.

Yvienna stood frozen. "Am I a ghost to her?" she muttered, rolling her eyes. With a sigh, she followed them and watched as her mother shoved Kyle toward the bathroom.

"Oh, darling, are you okay?" her mother asked, finally noticing her.

Yvienna forced a smile. "I'm fine, Mommy."

"Good. Go change your clothes."

In her room, Yvienna slipped into a comfortable white shirt and black shorts. She tied her hair into a ponytail, dabbed on some powder, and added a hint of lip tint. A spritz of vanilla perfume completed her look.

When she went back downstairs, Kyle was already sitting on the couch, a steaming cup of coffee in hand. Her mother placed another cup on the table and watched Kyle take a sip before retreating to the kitchen.

Kyle looked up as Yvienna approached, his eyes widening before he started coughing. Alarmed, she rushed to his side.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice tinged with panic.

Her mother appeared with a glass of water, which Kyle quickly downed. "I'm fine," he assured them, though his voice was hoarse.

Yvienna relaxed, sitting down beside him. She reached for her coffee, but the moment the hot liquid touched her tongue, she winced in pain.

"Careful! Coffee isn't juice," Kyle teased, gently turning her face toward him to inspect her tongue. He handed her the same glass of water he'd just used.

She drank it gratefully, the burn subsiding. Her mother returned with a bowl of cookies, setting it on the table before heading upstairs.

Yvienna grabbed a cookie and, with a mischievous smile, held it to Kyle's mouth. He chuckled before taking a bite, their laughter filling the room.

The evening passed quickly, and soon Kyle was gone. Yvienna lay in bed, her thoughts swirling. She fell asleep, only to wake to the sound of her alarm.

At the university, her steps felt lighter. She couldn't help but smile, anticipating the sight of Kyle. But her mood soured when someone blocked her path.

Cassandra.

The girl's smirk was as sharp as ever. "I heard Kyle drove you home yesterday," she said, her voice laced with venom.

"So?" Yvienna replied, her tone indifferent.

Cassandra's eyes narrowed. "He's mine. We're getting married after graduation. You're just a toy to him—a game he's playing before he settles down with me."

The words hit Yvienna like a slap, doubt creeping into her chest. Was Cassandra telling the truth?

But no. She wouldn't let herself believe it. I'm not a fool. If Kyle was playing with her heart, she'd be the one to walk away.