Strings of Fate: The First Loop

CHAPTER 22

Her expression didn’t ease exactly, but it twisted into something like mock horror. “You want me to meet your dad? Like tonight?”

I shrugged again, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth I couldn’t hide.

“Oh my gosh, James. I can’t wear this,” Betty blurted, looking down at her clothes like it had personally betrayed her. “Also, I look like a mess. My hair… it’s not even done.”

And for a moment, just a flicker, the real Betty surfaced.

The one who cared, the one who still wanted to show up right, be seen right. Not the girl wrapped in layers of numbness and silence, but the one with flustered nerves and quick wit. I almost wanted to freeze the moment.

I laughed, more out of relief than humor. “You’ll be fine, B.”

Then, like a guardian angel wearing heels, Inez’s voice cut through from behind.

“Girl, I got you! I’m your fairy godmother tonight.”

I looked over my shoulder and grinned as she appeared, hands on her hips, already assessing Betty like a renovation project she couldn’t wait to tackle. I raised my hand and she slapped it in a clean, practiced high five.

Betty blinked at us, confused. “What’s happening?”

Inez ignored her. “So, loverboy, we’ll excuse ourselves,” she said, waving me off. “I’ll do my magic. Pick her up at the school gate at five sharp. Got it?”

I nodded, speechless for a second, watching the gears in Betty’s head try to catch up.

Then Inez turned to her, eyes narrowing with performative judgment. “You look like your cat died. Get up. Chop! Chop!”

She even snapped her fingers before dragging Betty off like she was late for the ball. And just like that, she was gone, trailing behind Inez, looking half-scandalized and half-amused.

I stood there alone for a second, backpack slung over one shoulder, and felt something strange flicker in my chest.

Hope, maybe.

Or maybe it was just the quiet joy of watching her care again, even if it was just about her hair.

Even if it was just for one night.

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"Heyyy Drew!"

She came up to me when the hallway started to quiet down, her green bow catching the light like a flag from another time, one I hadn’t yet figured out how to burn.

“You…” she started, stopping right in front of me, arms crossed like always. “You’ve changed.”

I didn’t deny it. “Maybe.”

She tilted her head, studying me with those sharp eyes that always made me feel like I was under some scanner for weakness.

“Since when did you start playing superhero, James?” she asked, voice low. “You can’t save her. You can’t even lift a finger against your own dad.”

That one cut. Deeper than I let show. I squared my jaw and said, careful, low, “Don’t cross that line, Olive. I swear to God. Stay away from Betty.”

She blinked, then laughed, mocking, mean. “Oh! What would I do to your fragile little new toy, James?” she said, her words dipped in sugar and venom. “You think she’s the one? Girls like Betty only want to fix you. And when they realize they can’t, they’ll leave. They always leave. Remember Stacey? Julie? Lorie?”

The names hit like old bruises pressed too hard. I wanted to scream that Betty wasn’t like them, but what if she was?

“S-she’s different,” I muttered, barely above a whisper.

And just like that, I knew I sounded exactly like Judas, mumbling denials when asked if he knew the truth. I hated the way Olive’s lip curled in victory.

“Puh-lease,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Different? You think love saves anyone, James?”

Then, slow and deliberate, she stepped closer and touched my chin, just enough to make my spine go rigid.

“I know you’ll come running back to me when she leaves,” Olive whispered. “I’m your only best friend. I’m the only one who knows what’s in your head. Who accepts all of you. Even the ugly parts.”

She smiled like a queen who already knew the war was hers.

Then she turned and walked away.

I wanted to yell that she was wrong, that Betty wasn’t going anywhere, that maybe for once in my life I’d finally found someone who saw me as more instead of less.

But the words stayed stuck. My tongue, tied in the knot of every fear she’d just named.

I stood there frozen, her words echoing louder than the hallway buzz. I hated how she always knew where to poke. Hated even more how a part of me feared she was right.

Then a voice broke the silence.

“That girl is really something else,” Tim said, popping up beside me like he’d been watching from the shadows.

I flinched. “You saw that?”

“Hard not to.” He folded his arms and leaned casually against the lockers. “You good?”

I didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the floor like it might offer me something more solid than my thoughts.

Tim sighed, less teasing now. “Look, I don’t know what the deal is between you two, but Olive… she’s playing a game and you and Betty are the pawns, man.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “She’s just… always been there. Even when no one else was.”

“Yeah?” Tim raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly has she done with that front row seat to your life?”

I didn’t have a response.

He clapped me on the back, half reassuring, half to shake the weight off my shoulders. “Don’t let her mess with your head. You’ve got something good with Betty. Don’t let the past rewrite the present.”

I nodded, but it wasn’t a firm nod. It was the kind that says I hear you but I’m still scared I’ll screw it up.

“Come on,” Tim said. “Let’s get out of here before she circles back.”

I gave one last glance down the hallway where Olive had disappeared.

And then I followed.