Cruel Intentions: Chapter 25

It’s lunchtime, and I’m at our usual table with Reece and Jace. They’re talking, but I’m barely paying attention to the shit coming out of their mouths. Reece is rambling about some party, and Jace—predictably—won’t shut the fuck up about some new girl he’s obsessed with. Something about her tits, because that’s apparently the only thing his brain can process. I’d tell him to shut it, but I’m too busy scanning the cafeteria, waiting for Aubrey to appear.

Then “she” shows up.

Tia struts over with her little clique in tow and slides into the seat across from me like she owns the fucking place.

Seriously?

After everything that’s happened, you’d think she’d have gotten the hint to fuck off. Even Reece and Jace don’t acknowledge her—too wrapped up in their own bullshit. None of us care. Hell, we’ve all been there with Tia, and trust me, it wasn’t anything worth bragging about.

“Did you see the way she looked at me?” Tia pipes up, her voice sharp and irritating as hell.

I keep my eyes on the cafeteria doors, pretending not to hear her, but my ears are tuned in. If she’s talking about Aubrey, she’s playing with fire. One wrong word, and her food tray might end up being a new fashion accessory.

Tia doesn’t notice my growing irritation and keeps running her mouth, her voice like nails on a chalkboard. “I can’t believe she has the audacity. How dare she go against me,” she whines, stabbing at her food like it personally offended her.

“So, how long do you have to wear that thing on your nose?” Elice chirps, her voice entirely too cheerful for Tia’s current mood.

Tia freezes, her icy glare snapping to Elice like a viper. It’s the classic Tia death stare—the one that screams, ‘fuck off or die’.

Elice shrinks back, her confidence evaporating in an instant. I can’t help but smirk. Yeah, that’s about right. Tia’s always been too obsessed with her looks to care about anyone else.

“How long is that shit stuck on your face, anyway?” Jace asks, leaning back with a smug grin. He doesn’t even bother hiding his amusement, clearly enjoying the chance to poke at Tia.

Her head snaps toward him so fast it’s a miracle she doesn’t sprain something. The look she gives him? Pure venom. It’s the kind of glare that could stop most guys cold, maybe even make them rethink their life choices.

But Jace? He just grins wider, completely unfazed, practically daring her to take a swing.

Nicole strides over to the table, her glare locked on me like she’s been sharpening it for days. All because I wouldn’t let her suck my dick the other night. Classic Nicole—if it wasn’t me, it was someone else’s cock keeping her busy. Her frosty stare shifts from me to Tia, and just like that, the tension skyrockets. I give it ten seconds before we’re in full bitch-fight territory.

Ever since Aubrey knocked Tia off her pedestal, Nicole’s been circling like a vulture, ready to pick up the scraps and claim the crown.

It’s pathetic, really. Get a fucking life, Nicole.

Her little entourage crowds around the table, all radiating that fake mean-girl energy. The kind that’s all smoke and mirrors, nothing real behind it. The air’s thick with glares and hostility, a powder keg waiting to go off.

Meanwhile, Reece leans back, completely unfazed, hitting on some chick named Lilly with one of his signature bullshit lines. I can see it in her face—he’s already won her over. By the end of the day, he’ll have fucked her and moved on. Same old shit.

Then it starts.

Words fly across the table, sharp and aimed to kill. Snide comments about Nicole’s weight, which, honestly, is ridiculous.

Nicole fires back with something about Tia’s face, and the whole thing spirals. Every word is a dagger, meant to cut, to pierce, to leave scars.

“For fuck sake, shut the fuck up,” I snap, my voice slicing through the chaos.

The table falls silent, their eyes snapping to me. I don’t have the patience for this shit anymore. The toxic back-and-forth, the endless drama—it’s fucking exhausting.

Without another word, I shove my chair back and stand, scanning the cafeteria. Sure enough, in all this bullshit, I missed what I’ve been waiting for—Aubrey. She’s already here, sitting at her table.

I don’t waste a second. I start walking, and Jace and Reece follow without question, like always.

Nicole’s voice rises behind us, sharp and demanding, but I don’t bother looking back. Neither do the guys. Whatever she’s shouting, it doesn’t matter. If she thinks I’m sticking around for her and Tia’s bitchy back and forth, she’s delusional. I’m done.

As we weave through the crowded cafeteria, conversations stall, heads turning to follow us. Like we’re their personal entertainment. I block it all out, zeroing in on Aubrey’s table.

She’s mid-laugh, listening to something Sam’s saying, her smile widening with every second. That smile—it’s a fucking showstopper. The kind of smile that makes you freeze like a complete idiot, staring because you can’t help yourself.

Her eyes flick toward me the moment and for a second, everything else fades—the noise, the drama, all the bullshit. It’s just her.

I squeeze in beside Aubrey, the warmth of her presence grounding me as I slide closer. Reece and Jace follow suit, wedging themselves into the group, and the shift is immediate.

The buzz of the cafeteria dies down, replaced by a heavy silence as everyone stops to wonder what the fuck we’re doing. But I don’t care. Let them watch. Let them speculate. None of it matters.

Across the table, Jace plants himself between Lola and Liz, a shit-eating grin stretched across his face. I know neither of them is falling for his smooth lines—they’re not the type to make it easy. But that won’t stop Jace. If anything, the challenge will just fuel him.

Reece, on the other hand, slides in next to Sam, and the energy at the table shifts immediately.

The fiery, no-nonsense Sam, who stood her ground when Aubrey locked herself in the bathroom, suddenly disappears. Her confidence dims, replaced by something quieter, almost shy. She keeps her gaze down while Reece looks at her like she’s the only person in the room.

“Hey, Red,” Reece finally manages, his voice softer than usual, testing the waters.

Sam’s eyes flick up for a brief moment before darting away, and there’s something unspoken hanging in the air. It’s subtle, but I feel it. Maybe something’s already happened between them. If it has, he hasn’t told me or Jace, and that’s not like him. Reece shares everything.

Well, most of us do. Jace? He shares way too fucking much.

The scent of her perfume floods my senses as I wrap my arms around Aubrey’s waist, pulling her closer. I bury my nose in the side of her neck, letting myself get lost in the soft, familiar warmth of her. I don’t give a fuck about the people watching. Let them stare. They’re used to seeing me act like I don’t give a shit about anyone, so let them choke on the truth. If anyone’s got a problem with it, they can take it up with my fist.

“You want to go to the lake this afternoon?” I ask, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. Her skin is warm, and she shivers slightly under my lips.

“Yeah,” she says with a small smile, her voice soft. “I want to sketch the lake while I’m there.”

Before I can say anything else, Jace jumps in with his usual bullshit.

“What about Nic’s party, man? Don’t tell me you’re not going. It’s going to be fucking epic.”

I lift my head and catch him grinning at me like the smug asshole he is. The look I shoot him would make most people back off, but not Jace. He thrives on pushing buttons.

“Apparently, there are going to be chicks from Westside Hill,” he adds.

Lola beats me to it before I can even open my mouth to shut Jace down.

“All you do is think with your dick, Jace,” Lola says, rolling her eyes so dramatically it’s a wonder they don’t get stuck in the back of her head. “Surely one day, you’ll find a girl who wants more than a five-minute ride on the Jace express. Or, you know, maybe one who doesn’t fake it just to get it over with.”

The table erupts in laughter. Jace’s grin falters for the first time, though he tries to mask it with his usual bravado. “What can I say, Lola? My dick knows what it wants,” he mutters, but the flush creeping up his neck betrays him.

Lola doesn’t let up, leaning forward with a smirk that’s equal parts savage and amused. “Surely one day, you’ll realize there’s more to life than chasing tail. Or maybe you won’t, and your dick will catch something so exotic, even antibiotics won’t know what to do with it.”

“Jesus, Lola,” Jace mutters, shaking his head as the table bursts into fresh laughter.

She sits back, completely unbothered, her grin widening. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Evolution’s a bitch, Jace. Even for fuckboys.”

I can’t help but notice how much Lola’s changed. She’s not the same girl who used to shrink into herself whenever Tia tore into her. That defeated look, like she was bracing for impact every time someone spoke, is gone. Now, she sits taller, holds her head higher, and doesn’t take shit from anyone. It’s a hell of a transformation, and I respect it.

The conversation shifts to something else—something I barely register because I’m too caught up in Aubrey. The way her lips curve when she smiles, how her eyes light up when she talks about things that matter to her—it’s impossible not to get lost in her.

The bell rings, signaling the end of the break, and I groan inwardly.

I don’t want to go back to class. My instinct is to grab her hand, skip the rest of the afternoon, and head straight for the lake. Just the two of us, no noise, no bullshit. But I already know what her answer will be.

Aubrey’s too focused, too determined to keep her shit together for her scholarship next year. She’s not about to let anything mess that up—not even me. I overheard her talking to my dad about it the other day when I came in after my workout. She’s got her priorities straight, and I respect the fuck out of that. But damn, it’s hard not to want to be selfish. To steal her away, just for a little while.

The rest of the afternoon drags on like a goddamn eternity. Mr. Wheeler’s class is a bore fest—a combination of monotone lectures and dry material that could put a hyper-caffeinated kid to sleep. By the time the final bell rings, I’m practically out of my seat before the sound finishes echoing through the halls.

I snap back to life, ready to get the hell out of here and back to what actually matters.

I lean against the lockers, waiting for Aubrey as she stuffs her books and homework into her bag. Honestly, homework’s the last thing on my mind—if it weren’t for my dad constantly on my ass about my grades, I wouldn’t bother with it at all.

The hallways thin out, students rushing past, slapping high fives and shouting over each other as they head toward freedom.

Aubrey shuts her locker with a soft click, and we start walking toward the front of the school.

But then, as we reach the steps, I freeze.

I stop breathing.

She’s there. My mother.

Standing right in front of the school, blending into the crowd of parents and students like she belongs. She’s watching the passing faces, her gaze skimming the crowd, but it’s obvious she’s here for me.

My stomach twists, and my blood runs cold as anger claws its way up my chest.

How dare she? What the fuck does she think she’s doing, showing up here? I made it crystal fucking clear—I want nothing to do with her. I ignored the calls, the texts, every half-assed attempt she’s made to slither her way back into my life.

The fucking audacity.

My dad’s voice echoes in my head, telling me about her sudden reappearance. He said it caught him off guard. That’s putting it lightly. How does someone like her, someone who left without looking back, think they can just waltz back in like nothing happened?

Fuck that.

She doesn’t get to do this. Not after the shit she put us through.

My mind flashes back to those early days—me, sitting on the front steps as a kid, waiting for her to come back. My dad beside me, his arm around my shoulders, trying to convince me it was going to be okay, even though he knew it wasn’t. I can still see the look in his eyes. Helpless. Defeated. He tried. God, he tried. But it was never enough. She left a void behind that not even time could fill.

I glance at Aubrey, my chest tight. She squeezes my hand, a silent reassurance, but it doesn’t help. I can feel the storm building, the anger bubbling up, threatening to spill over. I want to scream. To march right up to her and tell her to fuck off. To leave. To never come back.

But instead, I stand there. Frozen. Watching her.

Aubrey pulls me forward gently, trying to guide me away, but my feet feel like they’re stuck in cement.

My mother’s eyes lock onto mine the second she sees me moving toward her, her expression softening, hopeful. Like this is a goddamn reunion. Like she’s waiting for me to forgive her.

The air feels heavy, suffocating. I take a shaky breath, trying to ignore the fury clawing at my chest.

But the moment she opens her mouth, all that anger comes flooding out.

“Noah,” she says softly, her voice laced with some bullshit tenderness. Like she has any right to say my name.

“Fuck off.”

The words come out sharp, loud, and final. I don’t hesitate, don’t flinch. I want her to feel every syllable. To know that whatever she thought this was, it’s not. She doesn’t mean anything to me anymore. Not now. Not ever.

“Please, Noah, let’s just talk,” she says, her voice edging on pleading as I push past her without a glance. I don’t stop. I don’t even hesitate.

I hear her voice again, sharper this time.

“Aubrey.”

That one word, spoken so desperately, sets my blood on fire. She’s trying to use Aubrey, trying to pull her into this mess. As if she has any right. As if she can guilt me into giving her a second of my time. How dare she speak to Aubrey like that? How dare she even say her name when the last time she saw Aubrey, she was just a little girl?

It’s manipulation. All of it. Classic fucking power play.

I stop dead in my tracks, my rage boiling over. I spin on my heels and storm back toward her, the crowd of students still lingering on the school steps can get fucked. Let them watch. Let them see. I don’t give a damn.

I close the distance, stopping inches from her, my voice low and sharp. “Don’t you ever fucking talk to her,” I growl. “You don’t know her. You don’t know me. So back the fuck off and don’t come near either of us again.”

Her face crumples, her mouth opening like she’s about to say something, but I’m done. I’m so fucking done. I turn away, leaving her standing there, her presence like a stain I can’t scrub off fast enough.

I make it to my car, my anger coursing through my veins. I throw my bag into the backseat with a force that rattles the entire car. My hands are shaking, my chest heaving as I grip the steering wheel, trying to keep myself from losing it completely.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Aubrey crossing the parking lot. She slips into the passenger seat, her movements calm, steady. The complete opposite of what’s going on inside me.

“Are you okay?” she asks, her voice gentle, like she’s trying to keep me grounded.

I drag a hand down my face, exhaling hard. “I don’t know why the fuck she came back,” I mutter, my voice rough with frustration. “This shit is fucking with my head.”

She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she reaches over, her fingers lacing through mine. She doesn’t need to say much—she knows me too well. Knows when to talk and when to let me stew in my anger.

Finally, she speaks, her voice steady. “I know how hard this is for you. I saw what it did to you as a little boy, the day she left… and every day after that.”

Her words cut deeper than I want to admit, yanking me back to places I’ve spent years trying to bury. That kid who sat on the steps every night, waiting for his mother to come back. He’s gone. I killed him a long time ago. Or at least I thought I did.

“She asked me to tell you she’ll be at the park on East Side this Saturday,” Aubrey says after a pause, her words careful. “With Lilla and Cole. If you’d like to meet them.”

Her words land heavy, like a blow I wasn’t braced for. Lilla and Cole. The names twist in my chest, sharp and unfamiliar.

I glance at Aubrey, my throat tight.

“It’s your choice, Noah,” she says, her voice soft but firm. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

I don’t even know what to say to that. What the fuck can I say?

I turn my head away, staring out the side window as my mind spirals. Everything feels like it’s caving in—spinning out of control. Part of me wants to scream, to say fuck that and walk away from this shit for good. But then there’s the other part… the part of me I’ve spent years trying to bury. That little kid still clinging to the hope she’d come back. Still waiting on those fucking front steps. That part of me doesn’t know what to do.

I look out through the windshield, watching cars pull out of the lot and students rushing to leave, their laughter and voices blending into a distant hum. It all feels so far away, like I’m stuck underwater, drowning in memories I never wanted to resurface.

“I don’t know if I can do that, Aub,” I finally say, my voice thick and raw, like the words are fighting their way out of me.

“I know,” she murmurs, her thumb brushing softly over the back of my hand, keeping me in the present, even as my mind keeps pulling me back to the past.

I don’t want to face my mother. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of thinking she can just show up and act like everything is okay. But there’s a small, nagging part of me—one I fucking hate—that’s telling me to go. Telling me to hear her out, just to see if she’s got anything real to say.

“Do you think I should go?” I ask, my voice breaking in a way I didn’t mean it to.

She doesn’t answer right away. She just squeezes my hand, her silence steady and reassuring.

When she does speak, her voice is soft but sure. “I think you should do what’s best for you. But I won’t pretend to know what that is, Noah. I just know this… I’m here. Whatever you choose.”