Ella’s POV:
Okay, so the "perfect day" I envisioned wasn’t exactly playing out the way I’d hoped. After the masquerade party, I had imagined that everything would settle down, that I could slip back into my usual routine, and that maybe the whole night would fade into the background. But of course, that was too much to ask for. It seed that, along with my hoodie and mask, I needed to shed myself with a cloak of invisibility.
Now, back at school, I was practically the center of attention. With Amber’s absence, all eyes seed to shift in my direction. And it certainly didn’t help that the infamous "Three Musketeers" had decided to make themselves my unofficial bodyguards. Everywhere I went, they were there. Jason, Dylan, and Max—each of them as relentless as they were infuriating.
They followed to every class, and yes, technically we were classmates, but co on—couldn’t they walk on their own like they used to? I’d grown used to their teasing and casual camaraderie before, but now it felt like they were hovering, studying with a level of scrutiny that made my skin prickle. They stuck to like shadows, and every ti I turned, at least one of them was there, watching, smiling, or trying to strike up a conversation.
I was determined not to give any of them the satisfaction of knowing how unsettled I was. I kept my responses minimal. A quick "hello" to Max, a polite nod to Dylan, and for Jason... nothing. He got a carefully crafted blank stare every ti he looked my way. Let him suffer a bit. After all, he had certainly earned it with that stunt he pulled at the party even if it wasn’t his problem.
It didn’t take long for the other students to start noticing the unusual behavior of my three shadows. People whispered as we walked by, casting curious glances in my direction. I could almost hear the rumors spreading. They were probably wondering how this "hoodie girl" was, the one who had sohow managed to catch the attention of all three of the most popular guys in school. It was as if everyone had forgotten I’d been right here all along, quietly going about my life.
But the worst part of it all wasn’t the attention. No, the worst part was the looks Dylan and Max kept giving . They would exchange glances, raising eyebrows at each other as if they shared so unspoken joke or, worse, a suspicion. I tried to ignore it, but every ti I caught them smirking or giving each other that "knowing" look, I felt a flicker of anxiety. It was as if they were onto sothing, like they’d seen through my carefully constructed facade and were piecing together a puzzle that I wasn’t ready for them to solve.
During one class, I felt their eyes on the entire ti. Max leaned back in his chair, casually spinning a pen between his fingers, his gaze flicking toward every few seconds with that ever-present mischievous grin. Dylan, on the other hand, was more subtle, but his intense, thoughtful stare was sohow even more unsettling. And Jason...well, I didn’t know what he was thinking, but he wore a smug smile that made want to either throw my notebook at him or run out of the room.
In the halls, it was the sa story. The trio would surround like a protective barrier, walking so close I could practically feel their presence at my back. Other students gave odd, speculative looks, so even daring to whisper as I passed. The funny thing was, I’d never considered myself to be the "center of attention" type. I was usually perfectly happy to stay on the sidelines, blending in. But these three were making that impossible.
Between classes, Max tried to get a laugh out of by cracking jokes about "Jason’s ego" and how it probably needed its own chair. He followed up by mocking Dylan’s "brooding artist" persona, saying he was one sad playlist away from a lodramatic movie character. I couldn’t help but smirk at that one, though I did my best to hide it. Max was relentless, determined to chip away at my silence, but I kept my responses short. I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was getting to .
Jason, anwhile, seed oddly calm, which was both annoying and suspicious. He didn’t make any direct moves, didn’t demand my attention like he usually would. Instead, he just stayed close by, casting the occasional smirk in my direction, as if he was patiently waiting for to break the silent treatnt I’d decided he deserved. That smug expression only made more determined to ignore him.
Then there was Dylan, who was quieter but equally persistent. He didn’t try to talk to as much as the other two, but he had this way of simply being there. I’d turn a corner, and there he’d be, leaning against the wall, his gaze soft but curious, as if he was trying to read sothing in my expression. He didn’t push, didn’t tease, but sohow his presence was just as unnerving.
Finally, during lunch, I couldn’t take it anymore. I’d barely taken a bite when Max plopped down across from with his usual grin, followed by Dylan, who gave a casual nod, and then Jason, who slid into the seat next to like he belonged there. I glared at him, but he only grinned back, his eyes glinting with that infuriating smugness.
"Can I help you guys?" I asked, crossing my arms, my tone as chilly as I could manage.
"Oh, we’re just here for the company," Max replied innocently, though his smirk betrayed him.
"Right," I said, rolling my eyes. "Because you three can’t go a single lunch period without hovering like bodyguards?"
Max held up his hands defensively, grinning. "Hey, I resent that. Bodyguards sounds so formal. I prefer... guardian angels. We’re just here to watch over you, Ella." He fluttered his fingers in the air like he was sprinkling fairy dust, which earned him a snort from Dylan.
"Guardian angels?" I raised an eyebrow. "More like persistent shadows I can’t shake."
"Persistent shadows... that’s actually poetic," Dylan murmured, a slight smirk on his face as he tapped a finger against his coffee cup. "Are you writing poetry now, Ella?"
"Oh, please," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "I more wish I was an exorcist to banish you from whatever part of hell you ca from."
Jason, who had been sitting quietly and watching with that annoying smirk of his, finally spoke up. "Don’t mind them, Ella. They’re just... intrigued by the ’new you.’" He leaned a little closer, his eyes glinting with amusent. "And so am I."
I glared at him, trying to keep my face blank, but I could feel my cheeks heating up. "There is no ’new .’ Just , trying to get through my day without you three lurking around every corner. Wearing a pretty dress doesn’t make new."
Jason shrugged, giving a lazy smile that sohow managed to look both confident and smug. "If that’s true, then why are you blushing?"
I rolled my eyes, determined not to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d rattled . "I’m not blushing," I snapped, pushing my food around on my plate. "And even if I was, it would be because you three won’t leave alone."
Max laughed, nudging Jason with his elbow. "See, man? You’re making her uncomfortable. Can’t you let the poor girl eat in peace?"
Jason gave Max an exaggerated sigh, putting a hand to his heart as if wounded. "Fine, I’ll give her space... but only if you promise to stop staring at her like she’s so kind of rare gem you just discovered."
Dylan, who had been quietly observing our back-and-forth, suddenly leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "Maybe we should cut her so slack. She’s had enough excitent for one week, thanks to you." He glanced at Jason, raising an eyebrow. "You did drag her into the spotlight."
I shot Dylan a grateful look, surprised by his unexpected support. "Thank you," I muttered, feeling a tiny bit less annoyed.
Jason rolled his eyes, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he shifted in his seat, turning his attention to his food, as if he’d decided to let be for now. I was about to breathe a sigh of relief when Max leaned in closer, his mischievous grin reappearing.
"Still," he said, his voice low and conspiratorial, "it’s kind of fun to see you all glamd up and mysterious, Ella. You clean up well."
I gave him a withering look. "Thanks, Max. I’ll keep that in mind for next ti."
I turned my attention back to my lunch, hoping they’d let the conversation drop. But of course, they couldn’t leave well enough alone. Max, ever the instigator, leaned back in his chair and gave a sly look.
"You know," he said thoughtfully, "I don’t think we’ve ever actually gotten a straight answer from you, Ella. Why were you so quiet about the whole masquerade thing?"
I glanced up, caught off guard by his question. "What do you an?"
"Well," Dylan said, picking up on Max’s line of questioning, "you showed up out of nowhere, looking like a supermodel, with Jason on your arm, in a designer dress that could’ve been straight out of a fashion magazine. And yet, you acted like it was no big deal." His gaze was steady, curious. "It’s like you’re hiding sothing."
I felt my heart start to pound a little faster. This was exactly the kind of conversation I wanted to avoid. I didn’t need them digging into my life, piecing together details that I wasn’t ready to share. For a mont, I considered brushing it off, giving them so vague, nonchalant answer that would hopefully throw them off. But I knew these three—they wouldn’t let it go that easily.
Finally, I sighed, setting my fork down and looking at each of them in turn. "Can’t a girl just want to dress up and have a nice ti without it being turned into a conspiracy theory?"
Dylan chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusent. "Alright, fair enough. But you can’t bla us for being curious. You’re full of surprises."
Max grinned, leaning back with a dramatic sigh. "Guess we’ll have to live with the mystery, then. For now."
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