Chapter 1
Liam Ashworth held her chin, his fingers brushing against her soft, pale cheek, "What are you planning to do?" Cyrus Hawthorne leaned in close, her whisper carrying the innocence of youth, "I want to be with you." Though she couldn't see Liam's expression, Cyrus felt a light chuckle escape him, reverberating in the charged air between them. He gazed at her cheeks, adorably flushed, and said, his voice laced with mischief, "Cyrus Hawthorne?"
Chapter 2
**Back to School** On the first day of school at Windvale Academy, the parking lot was filled with a kaleidoscope of flashy cars. After all, this was the most prestigious private school in the city. Students strutted around in stylish uniforms, each wearing an expression that said, "I am destined for greatness." Cyrus Hawthorne jumped out of her car, waving sweetly at Uncle Zach, the Coachman. "Goodbye, Uncle Zach!" she called, adjusting the straps of her backpack as she walked toward the school gates, squinting up at the grand inscription above the entrance. She caught sight of a girl whose cheeks were as round as little apples. Dressed in a crisp white shirt and a neat little tie, she wore a red pleated skirt that fell just above her long, fair legs. *Ding...* The school bell chimed, and Cyrus strolled leisurely through the entrance. A group of student council members, ever vigilant, spotted her and their eyes brimmed with tears of joy at finally catching someone late. "I'm Cyrus Hawthorne, the new transfer student in Class 11B. Nice to meet you!" she chirped brightly. Feeling a bit guilty, the student council members exchanged glances. New students were guests, and it was hardly polite to mark her tardy on her first day. Zachary Bloomfield, the head of the order, waved his hand dismissively. "Forget it. It’s your first day. We won’t count it against you." "But that wouldn’t be fair. You must record my name," Cyrus insisted earnestly. “It’s fine. We understand you’re new and may not know the rules yet; we’ll let it slide this time,” he replied, trying to soothe her. Cyrus leaned over the table, her expression growing more sincere. "Are you sure you can’t at least give me a warning?" After signing her name and class, Cyrus felt satisfied and walked away. In her new classroom, she introduced herself to her classmates. The homeroom teacher, Edward Garrison, was an endearing middle-aged man who seated her next to a bespectacled girl named Autumn Lockwood. Autumn couldn’t help but sneak peeks at Cyrus, making the latter feel a bit awkward. She put away her English book. "Autumn Lockwood, are you staring at me for some reason?" Autumn grinned, "I just think you’re really pretty." Cyrus almost choked on the coffee she had just taken a sip of; she hadn’t expected her new desk partner to be so bold. Intrigued, she replied, "I heard Liam Ashworth is also really good-looking. What class is he in?" Autumn’s eyes went wide. "Liam Ashworth, the student council president?" Cyrus nodded. Autumn squealed with excitement, gripping Cyrus's arm. "I can’t believe you like him too! It’s so cool to meet another fan!" Cyrus struggled to pull her arm free. "So, what class is he in?" Autumn continued rambling, "Liam Ashworth is truly the most charming guy around. I can understand why you’re a fan, but he belongs to everyone. Honestly, I think his friend, Zachary Bloomfield, is pretty great too..." One of the boys in front turned around impatiently. "Liam Ashworth is in Class 11D. You’re welcome." As evening study hours approached, Windvale Academy fell into a solemn silence. Renowned for its high college admission rate, the school placed minimal restrictions on studying; its students were already driven by a deep sense of diligence. Cyrus relaxed into her chair, her pen flying across the page as she tackled a complex conic section. The final bell had rung long ago, but she preferred to finish her assignments at school rather than rush home. She worked rapidly, her thought process frequently veering off the beaten path. Finally, after completing the problem, she stretched her arms overhead and decided to pop into Liam’s extended study group.
Chapter 3
Windvale Academy was vast, with the middle school on the southern side and the high school to the north. The sophomore division had a total of twenty classes spread across two buildings. Cyrus Hawthorne was in Classroom 1, while Liam Ashworth was in Classroom 2. After school, the campus grew quiet as the evening breeze turned chilly. Cyrus rubbed her arms and made her way over, eventually finding Classroom 19. To her surprise, the door had been left unlocked. With the door wide open, there was no reason not to enter… right? Cyrus was lost in thought, considering the risk of becoming a suspect if someone misplaced their belongings the next day, along with thoughts about security cameras, when she heard the sound of a girl sobbing from inside the classroom. That sound didn’t seem quite right. Driven by curiosity, Cyrus poked her head around the door. Sitting on the desk was Liam Ashworth, his face expressionless, while a girl beside him cried quietly in her chair. The classroom was dimly lit, making it impossible for Cyrus to see the girl’s profile clearly, except for her long, silky hair cascading down her back. Cyrus covered her mouth, afraid to make a sound. Unexpectedly, her phone buzzed loudly in her pocket, the vibrations echoing ominously in the silence. With no time to explain herself, and unsure if the two inside even noticed her, Cyrus quickly turned and fled. Once home, she headed straight to her room on the second floor. Having just witnessed a scene filled with unspoken pain, Cyrus felt unsettled. Liam Ashworth was the boy she had admired from afar in middle school. During her city-wide exams, Cyrus ranked sixth, while Liam topped the charts. She had seen him give a speech at an opening ceremony once. Standing on the stage, he illuminated the room as he delivered his talk in English. Later, backstage, Cyrus had watched as he crumpled his speech, tossing it casually into the trash. Everyone considered Liam Ashworth perfect. But in that moment, she glimpsed a crack in his polished exterior, revealing a hint of darkness beneath. She had quietly retrieved the mangled speech from the trash. “Cyrus, sweetie! Come downstairs and eat some fruit! Did you have fun on your first day at the new school?” her mother, Yvette Hawthorne, called from downstairs. Yvette was a single mom, raising Cyrus alone after her divorce from Cyrus's father. Cyrus's grandfather adored Yvette, insisting that any child of hers should carry her last name. “Coming!” Cyrus called back, rolling off the couch and heading down for fruit. Classes at Windvale had only just begun, yet Cyrus had already been late five days. This was enough to prompt the school to issue a formal warning against her. The members of the Honor Society had recognized her now, nodding in her direction every time they crossed paths: “Oh hey, you’re here. Sign in, will ya?” Cyrus found the Guild of Scholars' office during the big break and cornered her old acquaintance, Zachary Bloomfield. “Where’s the president?” Zachary let out a teasing sound. “You’ll have to wait; too many girls are trying to reach Liam Ashworth. You’ve got a line to stand in.” Cyrus couldn't hold back an eye roll. “I’m skipping the line.” Zachary pointed toward the library. “He’s in there, but you might want to wait a bit.” His warning got swallowed by the wind. Zachary shouted after her, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Cyrus took off running toward the library, lifting her skirt slightly as she dashed. The door was closed, and after a deep breath to steady herself, she twisted the knob and stepped inside, locking the door behind her. Liam Ashworth looked up from behind a large desk, engrossed in a book.
Chapter 4
Zachary Bloomfield sat there, exuding an inexplicable air of nobility. A girl with long, dark hair rushed in, slightly disheveled, as she tried to catch her breath. Her porcelain skin was tinged with a rosy hue, her lips full and inviting, and her eyes sparkled like stars. This study chamber also served as the office for the Guild of Scholars, and typically, students respected this sacred space, avoiding interruptions whenever Liam Ashworth was present. Except for Cyrus Hawthorne. Liam cast a detached glance her way. "What do you need?" Cyrus Hawthorne thought back to their previous encounters, realizing that he probably didn't remember her. But that was okay. Cyrus approached his desk, her voice sweet and soft. "President, could you please remove my name from the notification records?" Liam tilted his head slightly. "I'm afraid I can't do that." Cyrus encouraged herself silently, Come on, Cyrus Hawthorne. She tiptoed up and planted a quick kiss on Liam’s cheek. Liam grasped her chin, his fingers gently sinking into her soft cheek. "What are you trying to do?" "I'm just trying to get your attention," Cyrus whispered playfully in his ear, her voice laced with innocence. Though she couldn't see his expression, she thought she detected a hint of laughter in his response. He looked at her delicately flushed face, half-smiling as he said, "Cyrus Hawthorne." The class bell rang, breaking the moment. Liam picked up his book and walked out. Cyrus felt relief; so he did remember her after all. The next day during gym class, Cyrus spotted a familiar girl with long black hair on the field. Initially uncertain whether she was the emotional girl from the night before, her suspicion was confirmed when Liam was playing basketball nearby, and the girl sat beside the court, bundled in a jacket. Cyrus felt about seventy percent sure it was her now. The girl was beautiful, with a sharp jawline and big eyes, a stark contrast to Cyrus's doll-like face. After a round of play, Cyrus overheard Liam calling out to the girl, "Emma Ravenscroft." She nudged her friend, Autumn Lockwood, who was buried in schoolwork. "Does Liam Ashworth have a girlfriend?" Without looking up, Autumn replied, "No, Liam isn't interested in girls." "But Emma Ravenscroft seems pretty close to him." "Listen, Cyrus," Autumn finally looked up, her seriousness evident, "you have to remember, chasing after guys like that only ends in heartbreak." "That's not true," Cyrus said, waving her off, her test paper fluttering in her hands. "They end up with nothing because they were pursuing the wrong person." At that moment, a stray shuttlecock flew in and smacked Cyrus right on the head. She exclaimed, "Ouch!" as a group of boys playing nearby laughed and apologized, asking her to toss it back. Fuming, Cyrus stood, arms raised high. The midriff of her shirt revealed a tantalizing hint of her waist. Autumn grabbed Cyrus's test paper, "Since the function f(b)=blna−alnb is increasing on the interval (e,+∞), it’s obvious that b must be greater than a. Wait, how did you come to this conclusion?" At that moment, Liam got up and headed toward the locker room. Cyrus thought she caught a glimpse of him glancing her way. "Autumn, I'm heading to the restroom. If class ends, you should go ahead without waiting for me." Throwing down her completed test, Cyrus trailed after Liam Ashworth. The boys' locker room was empty when she arrived, and standing by the door, she suddenly felt her actions were rather inappropriate. Was she really going to sneak a peek at Liam changing? Before she could rethink, a hand reached out, grabbing Cyrus by her collar and pulling her inside. "Following me?" Liam squinted, leaning slightly closer. Standing at six feet one inch, he towered over her, with her head barely reaching his chest. Their bodies were uncomfortably close, and Cyrus could smell the fresh soap on him. His long lashes cast shadows across his face. Cyrus wrapped her arms around Liam's waist, pulling him in closer, her smile mischievous. "I just wanted to ask if you would like to come over to my place." Liam gently removed her hands. "Is there something you need, Cyrus Hawthorne?" "I wanted to—" Just as she was about to say "sleep with you," laughter and footsteps echoed from outside. Liam quickly covered her mouth and dragged her into a lockable stall. Their bodies pressed tightly together, and Cyrus felt the warmth of his presence against her. Liam leaned in closer, whispering into her ear, "If you have what I think you might, I might consider it." Cyrus met his intensity with calm resolve. "That’s a deal."
Chapter 5
Cyrus Hawthorne felt a pang of frustration as she tried to figure out how to get Liam Ashworth to notice her. Each day, as she sipped her papaya milk, she wished for a magical remedy that would enhance her curves overnight, but she knew this transformation wouldn’t happen instantly. After much contemplation, she decided that the only way to truly outshine him was to bury him academically, stripping him of his title as the top student in their grade. During the first monthly exam, Cyrus adopted a new strategy. Gone was her usual attitude of dismissing everything with a snarky, "If you don’t understand, it's not my fault,” replaced by a careful and thorough approach to each question. She tackled every problem with precision, every step meticulously crafted. Her essay was rich with eloquence and creativity; she aimed for excellence in both quantitative and qualitative subjects. When the results were posted, reality hit hard: she had secured second place while Liam held onto his unshakeable first. Disheartened, Cyrus found herself wallowing in disappointment. But it was soon overshadowed by the excitement surrounding an upcoming event. Liam’s grandfather, the former governor, was celebrating his seventieth birthday with a lavish party, where influential figures from business and politics were expected to mingle. Liam’s father, a prominent politician with connections a mile long, had groomed Liam perfectly. He was an impeccable student, admired by everyone; there was hardly a person present at the party who didn’t sing his praises. Old Lord Ashworth, beaming at the success of his grandson, was the epitome of pride. When Cyrus’s grandfather, Christopher Hawthorne, decided to bring her to the birthday soirée, the sight of Old Lord Ashworth's beaming face greeted them as they entered. “Cyrus! You simply must come visit more often. It feels like ages since I’ve seen you!” Old Lord Ashworth exclaimed warmly as he stood up to welcome his old friend. “Old Cyrus! You have a gem right here! This is my darling granddaughter,” Christopher chuckled, his voice full of life. Cyrus blinked in surprise as she watched the interactions unfold; she couldn’t believe her grandfather’s old friend was none other than Liam Ashworth’s grandfather. What a twist of fate! “Come on, say hello!” Christopher nudged. “Hello, Mr. Ashworth!” Cyrus greeted respectfully, wearing a vibrant red dress that radiated youthfulness and charm. Old Lord Ashworth had always yearned for a granddaughter, and at last, here stood Cyrus—sweet, obedient, and adorable. He gestured toward Liam, who was busy connecting with guests across the room. “Liam! Come over here and say hello to your friend Cyrus.” Liam approached holding a glass of sparkling cider. Dressed in a crisp white shirt, he stood out like a beacon amongst the crowd. Cyrus realized she’d never seen Liam in formal attire before, and her mind raced with thoughts: I need to impress him. “Hello, Cyrus. I believe we’ve met before. We’re in the same school, right?” “Yeah. You’re pretty famous in our school, Liam. You scored top marks again! So impressive!” she replied, feigning admiration even though her competitive streak burned bright. “I’ve heard great things about you too, Cyrus. You’re performing quite well yourself. And I must say, you look lovely tonight,” he complimented, a genuine smile gracing his lips. “Liam, why don’t you show Cyrus around the hall? I’d like to catch up with her grandfather,” Old Lord Ashworth said with a wave of his hand. “Keep an eye on her. No drinking too much for the kids!” As Cyrus walked alongside Liam, she stumbled slightly in her heels, nearly losing her balance. Just in time, Liam reached out to catch her, and with a playful slip, she leaned into him, accidentally splashing wine down her dress. “Cyrus Hawthorne, cut it out,” he said coolly, his tone unwavering. “Alright! But now my dress is ruined,” she said with a half-hearted pout, the sweet scent of the wine making her voice sultry. “You have to help me change.” Liam leaned against the doorway, watching her intently. After changing into another dress, she found herself struggling with the back zipper, unable to fasten it without help. “Liam, could you give me a hand?” she asked, turning slightly so he could see the exposed skin of her back, her figure alluringly curved. He crossed his arms, smirking slightly. “Not happening.” “Oh, come on,” Cyrus teased, twisting around, the faint scent of wine mixing with her youthful energy. “You’re just stubborn.” Cyrus pressed her palm against Liam’s chest, lifting her gaze with a playful flutter of her eyelashes. “You’re heart racing a bit, aren’t you?” Liam didn’t pull away or respond, his stillness intriguing her further. As her hand wandered downwards, seeking more intimacy, he captured her wrists effortlessly, pinning her hands behind her. With one hand caressing her cheek, he spoke gently, “You think I won’t stop you?” “You might change your mind,” she replied confidently. With an unexpected and brazen move, Cyrus grasped the front of his pants, leaning in closer, feeling their chemistry spark. Her dark hair fell behind her shoulders, an innocent face meeting a provocative situation—a tableau of contrasts. “I put in effort, you know,” she said sweetly, nearly breathless. “You understand why I prefer not to be with inexperienced girls, right?” Liam responded in an almost mocking tone. “Let’s just say, you’ll want to give me a chance,” she challenged, ready to take on whatever surprises this night held in store.
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