Maeve sat in the school courtyard, surrounded by lush greenery and the gentle hum of students chatting. Oliver settled beside her on the bench. Interrupting her little quiet time in-between classes. It was a rare sight to see her head groveled down in her phone and alone. However, It was something she would never admit to.
"Fancy seeing you here...alone" he said with the last part on emphasis. She rolled her eye in response. Curious as to what he came looking for her for.
"You there was some crazy thing going around the media since last night, Maeve," he started in the most unusual manner. Her attention never wavering from her screen.
Yes, she had heard about it, in fact, it was something she was looking through right there. Not that he knew any of that.
"And..." she said, from her lowered gaze at him.
"-And you've been distant since the engagement dinner," Oliver said, his voice tinged with disapproval. "Care to explain what really happened?"
Maeve's tone dripped with sarcasm, her words laced with resentment. "Oh, you want the juicy details? Sorry to disappoint, but there's nothing to tell."
Oliver's eyes narrowed. "Don't play dumb, Maeve. I heard what happened at the engagement party. You were behind it, weren't you?"
Maeve's gaze flashed, her voice icy. "And if I did? What business is it of yours?"
Oliver's expression turned judgmental. "You're better than that, Maeve. Nothing good will come from constantly targeting Cecilia. Focus on something else," He reached closer to her palm, leaning into her. She maintained a long stare with him as he continued. "These are our senior years and we have so much to look forward to."
Maeve's laughter was tinged with bitterness. "You can't simply tell me to stop. You, of all people, know how it is with them. This is my solace, my revenge against them. The name they carry so high with pride? I'll make sure it's nothing more than gossip tales."
Oliver's voice softened, concern creeping in. "It won't be worth it when you stop and think about what you're doing."
Kate McCormick, a classmate, approached. "Hey, Oliver, can I grab a minute?"
Maeve's eyes narrowed, her voice icy. "Can't you see we're busy, McCormick?"
Kate hesitated before pulling out her notebook. "Sorry, I just needed to review our project plan."
Oliver snapped at Maeve, a subtle glare in his eyes. "Maeve, please play nice," Then he turned to Kate and nodded, his eyes scanning the pages. "Looks solid, Kate. Let's discuss it further during lunch."
Maeve's gaze turned glacial. "I'm surprised you can handle such complex work, McCormick. Didn't think scholarship kids were up for it."
Kate's eyes flashed, her voice steady and firm. "My scholarship doesn't define my capabilities, Brooklyn. And your wealth doesn't guarantee your intelligence."
Maeve's face twisted in rage. "At least my family's wealth is legitimate, not some handout from a sympathetic donor. You're only here because someone felt sorry for you."
Kate's eyes blazed. "Better someone's sympathy than your family's shallow entitlement. At least I earned my place."
Oliver's expression panicked. He bridged himself between them. "Maeve, calm down."
Maeve's voice rose. "You think you're better than me? You're nothing more than a charity case." In one swift motion, Oliver stood from the bench. "I'll escort you back to class," He says to Kate. He grasped her elbow, guiding her away from Maeve's outrage.
Maeve's eyes widened, shocked by Oliver's sudden protectiveness. "Fine," she spat, standing abruptly. "Have your new partner."
With furious strides, Maeve stormed off.
Maeve stormed into Cafe Rivera, her anger simmering just below the surface. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped her as she scanned the cafe, her gaze locking on Isabella, who sipped espresso with an air of nonchalance.
Maeve slid into the chair opposite her, her movements fluid and deliberate. "Bells, spill," Maeve demanded, her voice low and menacing. "What's the tea on Kate McCormick?"
Isabella raised an eyebrow, her French accent dripping with caution. Her expression was a blend of curiosity and concern. "Maeve, you look like you've lost your last marble. What got you so riled up?"
Maeve's lips curled into a snarl. "That charity case thinks she's better than me? I want to make her regret everything she said."
Isabella's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure? Last I heard, she's got good backing."
Maeve's eyes flashed, a fleeting glimpse of determination. "Just get me the dirt. I'll handle the rest," Isabella hesitated, her gaze darting around the cafe before pulling out her phone. Her slender fingers danced across the screen as she whispered, "Let's see, Kate's family struggled after her dad's accident. Her mom works double shifts to keep food on the table."
Maeve's lips curled into a sly smile, her eyes sparkled with malevolence. Her mind was already spinning with strategies. "Perfect. And what about her scholarship?"
"Anonymous donor," Isabella replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Some say a local businessman. Rumours claim he's some rich benefactor who footed the bill, probably feels guilty for banging her mom or something."
Maeve's mind whirled with possibilities, her thoughts racing with potential connections. "Keep digging, Bella."
Oliver walked down the bustling street, his mind still replaying the earlier confrontation with Maeve. He hoped to catch her and make amends.
As he turned onto Main Street, he spotted Café Riviera's iconic sign. Maeve emerged from the café, her auburn hair standing out amidst the afternoon crowd.
Oliver's heart skipped a beat at the thought of whether it could be coincidence or fate. He quickened his pace, weaving through pedestrians to catch up to her. "Maeve!" Oliver called out, his voice carrying above the din.
Maeve's head jerked up, her eyes narrowing as she saw Oliver approaching. For an instant, their gazes locked.
Then, without a word, Maeve turned away, her heels clicking rapidly as she disappeared into the crowd.
Oliver halted, feeling a pang of regret. Maybe he should've given her space.
As he watched Maeve vanish from sight, Oliver wondered what she was doing at Café Riviera. Who had she met there?
Unbeknownst to Oliver, Isabella watched from inside the café, her eyes locked onto Oliver's retreating figure.