Vanessa's POV
"You're such a liar, Vanessa!"
My mother's voice thundered through the kitchen. I froze, my heart hammering as she pointed at the shattered porcelain pieces on the floor.
"I didn't do it, Mom. I swear, I didn't break the plate," I said, my voice shaking.
"Then you're calling me a fool? Weren't you the last person in this kitchen?" she barked.
"Yes, I was, but—"
"No buts! You're always making excuses. You'll learn today!" she snapped before shouting, "Alex! Alexis! Come here!"
My brothers, Alex and Alexis, came running. She turned to them, fire in her eyes.
"Which one of you broke this plate?" she demanded.
"Not me," Alex said quickly.
Alexis looked at the floor. "It wasn't me either."
I glanced at him. Something about the way he avoided my eyes told me everything I needed to know.
"Vanessa, I'll ask you one last time," Mom said. "If you lie again, get out of my house."
My throat tightened. I wanted to scream the truth. I wanted to say it was Alexis. But the fear of being thrown out, of seeing that look in her eyes again, was worse than anything.
"I broke the plate," I whispered.
The cane came before I could brace for it. Each lash burned across my back, my legs, my arms. I stopped counting after ten. I only knew I was on the floor when I felt the coldness of the tiles against my cheek.
Later, in our shared bedroom, Alexis sat beside me while I nursed the wounds on my back with a soaked cloth.
"Thank you for taking the blame," he said, barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to let you, I just... froze."
I didn't answer. I stared at my reflection in the cracked mirror—torn clothes, swollen eyes, and a girl I barely recognized. It's always like this. Always me.
People say I look like my mother, but if that's true, why does she treat me like I'm invisible—except when I'm in trouble? Maybe I'm adopted. Maybe I'm cursed.
But I had to push those thoughts aside. Because today wasn't just about pain. Today was also my fourteenth birthday, and the day I started at a new school.
"Class, this is Vanessa Montenegro," Mr. Aiden announced.
He gestured to the boy sitting in the second row. "Vanessa, that's your class captain, Alexis. Go sit beside him. He'll help you settle in."
I blinked. Alexis? What a strange coincidence. The same name as my little brother.
"Alexis, take care of her," the teacher added.
Alexis didn't look at me as I took the seat next to him. He didn't smile. He didn't even nod.
When the bell rang for lunch, I brought out my small lunchbox. He waited near the door, apparently ready to give me a school tour.
"Want some?" I asked, offering part of my bread.
He shook his head. "No."
The walk around school was awkward. He said nothing. I said less. But I was impressed. The school was beautiful, larger than anything I'd seen, with modern labs, endless hallways, and a library that looked like it belonged in a movie.
Despite Alexis' silence, my first day went surprisingly well. Teachers were kind, students weren't rude, and I didn't mess anything up. At least not yet.
After school, I walked home alone. No friends. No one to talk to. And no birthday wish from anyone.
Later that night, while everyone slept, I wrote everything in my diary. Somehow, despite everything, I felt a strange hope. Maybe this school would be different. Maybe this was my fresh start.
But Alexis remained a mystery.
He never spoke in class unless asked. Never smiled. Never played with others. Rumor had it he used to be cheerful—until his mother died last semester. And worse, people whispered that his father was responsible for her death.
I felt something stir in me. Sympathy, maybe. Recognition. His sadness looked like mine.
So one afternoon, I found him alone on the school balcony.
"Alexis, why do you keep pushing everyone away?" I asked.
He turned, slowly. "Why do you care?"
"I just... I've heard what happened. About your mom..."
"Don't," he snapped. "Don't talk about her. Don't pretend to understand."
"I wasn't pretending—"
"I said stop! Stay out of my life, Vanessa!"
Then he walked away, leaving me standing there with his words like splinters in my chest.
From that day, I avoided him. Not just out of hurt—but out of respect. I didn't want to press where I wasn't wanted.
A month passed. I still had no real friends. I ate lunch alone. I wrote in my diary every night. And Alexis remained distant.
Until one day.
"Vanessa," he said, approaching my desk, "would you like some cake? I baked them."
I blinked. "Are you... serious?"
He sighed. "Just answer the question."
"Okay. Yes, I'd love some."
He handed me a container. "Eat as much as you want."
I tasted one. It was warm and soft, filled with chocolate. It melted in my mouth. "This is really good."
He smiled—barely, but it was there. That day, class felt lighter, brighter.
After school, as I packed my books, he approached again.
"Vanessa, are you leaving now?"
"Almost."
"Meet me at the balcony. I need to say something."
I watched him walk away, surprised. A part of me didn't believe he'd really be there.
But when I arrived at the balcony, he was waiting.
"Thanks for coming," he said.
"You're welcome."
"I wanted to say... I'm sorry. For shouting at you. For pushing you away. I was... I'm still hurting."
"It's okay. I understand."
"I shouldn't have treated you that way."
"I shouldn't have pushed, either."
"Can we start over?" he asked. "Be friends?"
I smiled. "Yes. Friends."
"Great. Maybe... tea after school sometime?"
"I'd love that."
We sat in the cafeteria, sipping hot tea. It was quiet, but peaceful. He opened up a little. I laughed for the first time in weeks.
When we stood to leave, something in me felt lighter. Hopeful.
But that night, as I opened my diary to write, I noticed something tucked between the pages.
It was a folded piece of paper.
I opened it.
"You think you can trust him? Think again. He's lying to you. Stay away from Alexis before it's too late."
My hands trembled.
I looked around.
My bedroom door creaked slightly as if someone had just left.