Page 37 of The Bittersweet Bond

"Miss Hayes," Mr. Brunner said, his tone dry and cutting, "if you’re unable to complete your presentation, we can proceed without your... performance."

Performance?Evin thought bitterly.What a joke.

She wanted to say something, anything—to hold onto the last shreds of her composure—but her voice caught in her throat. The words she’d prepared were trapped, smothered under the weight of the stares, the laughter, and the crushing humiliation raining down on her from every direction.

Then she glanced down at her trembling hands, clutching the notecards like a lifeline in the middle of the chaos.

"I'm sorry..." she whispered, her voice barely audible, a fragile confession meant for no one but herself.

Her hope that this presentation might provide an escape, like history class often did, had crumbled. Everything felt wrong today—the classroom, the teacher, even Bas. The laughter echoed louder, each giggle and snicker like a dagger to her chest and each taunt was another weight pulling her down.

Shecould no longer stand there. Every second felt like an eternity. Without thinking, she turned, her feet moving on their own, and yanked the door open. The loud slam as it closed behind her felt like a brief release, only to be drowned out by a fresh wave of laughter.

Trying to catch her breath, Evin leaned against the cold wall.

But it was no use.

Each inhale brought the sting of frustration and humiliation back tenfold.

Her hands trembled, no longer with fear, but with restrained anger. The words of her classmates replayed in her mind like a cruel, mocking echo.

"Fuck this," she muttered, her voice trembling with frustration.

How had she let it get this far? Why hadn't she said anything?

A thousand comebacks danced on the edge of her tongue, but they had all stayed trapped inside, smothered under the weight of her humiliation.

Coward.

"Why didn’t you fight back?" she thought bitterly.

Her fists clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms as her anger simmered, threatening to boil over.

She should have stood up for herself. She should have shouted, made them listen, silenced the jeers. But instead, she had stood there, frozen, and let them tear her apart. The helplessness burned.

And Cat. The queen of drama, reveling in every chance to humiliate her.She enjoys watching me suffer, Evin thought, jaw tightening. And she could picture Cat now, laughing, smirking, soaking in every second of her humiliation.

But more than anything, her anger focused on Bas. He had sat there. Silent. Unmoved. He hadn’t laughed, hadn’t defended her, hadn’t even flinched. "Idiot," she seethed internally. He watched them rip me apart and did nothing.

Her heart raced as she replayed the moment she had looked at him, hoping for support, a shred of empathy. But there had been nothing. Nothing! Not even a flicker of recognition.

"He could have done something," she muttered bitterly. But instead, he had just sat there, as if he didn’t care. Her fists shook with the force of her frustration.And this is the guy I’m putting myself through hell for? The guy I’m breaking myself for?

"You’re so fucking stupid," she whispered to herself, voice cracking.

She turned into the empty hallway, her footsteps echoing on the marble floor.

She heard another set of steps closing in from behind.

Just when she was about to turn around, a firm grip seized her arm and shoved her into the girls' restroom.

He spun her around—Bas pressed her against the wall, his hand firm on her chest. Evin felt the cold stone against her back as her breathing quickened.

For a moment, the world stood still.

Really, Evin?" His voice was low, almost eerily calm—and that made it worse.

The door shut behind them with a slow, final click.

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