The Rewritten Love: A Second Beginning

Chapter 15

Each class stretched out to 45 minutes. When the bell finally signaled the end of the lesson, Madelyn, almost with a sense of doomed acceptance, walked to the back of the room. She quietly righted Forrest’s knocked-over desk and gathered the scattered books from the floor, tidying them neatly into his drawer. Her actions elicited a flurry of astonished whispers from her classmates.

“No way! Madelyn, who’s always acting high and mighty, is actually picking up books for Forrest? Did she hit her head or something?”

“Can’t believe what I’m seeing. Madelyn, who couldn’t be bothered to speak, is now serving her arch-nemesis Forrest? Holy cow, I must be hallucinating!”

Someone had discreetly snapped a photo of Madelyn’s surprising act of humility and anonymously uploaded it to the school forum.

Madelyn ignored the buzz around her, focusing on straightening up Forrest’s desk. Despite everything, she was just too good-natured to hold Forrest’s temper against him.

Meanwhile, in the grimy alley behind the school, Timothy was debating about which bar to hit that night. Adrian was engrossed in his phone when a headline suddenly popped up.

[Shocker of the Century! Madelyn actually…]

crouched down, books cradled in her arms. “Holy smokes! Look,

doubted his hearing

elegant profile perfectly. Light streamed

‘Well, I’ll be damned.’

in the classroom, she quietly savored the

gradually returned from their lunch. Madelyn was still struggling with the final math problem. The noise of chatter and footfalls grew louder as it approached

God, it’s Forrest. He isn’t coming back to

head over and grab a front-row seat. I’ve had it with that lowlife girl. I can’t believe she

a plot of land. People like them who can’t compete fairly

watch your mouth. My dad said the Jent family are big fishes in Ventropolis, getting on their bad side always spells trouble.

their class had parents whose businesses had suffered at the hands of the Jent family, and those

over her. In the next instant, a hand swept across the desk, scattering her books to the floor. She

calmly, “Can I help

permission to touch my stuff? Looking for trouble?” His

I picked up his books, he has come

accidentally taken his seat and he had gotten upset. She thought cleaning up for him might serve as a sort of quiet apology. She had never imagined

her class and even the neighboring one had gathered to witness

books, too. We’re even.

Madelyn’s desk. “What’s your game, Madelyn?