Chapter 4: The Rebel Who Stood Up

The alley was dim, the only light coming from a flickering streetlamp. My voice echoed off the brick walls, louder than I intended.

"Tyler, I once borrowed a copy of 'Jane Eyre' from your study. There's a line I want to return to you now: 'You think I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, and have no soul or heart?' Clearly, in your eyes, ugly people have no heart, no right to feel sad.

"The funny thing is, you're not really a bad person. You get teary-eyed at good deeds on Instagram, outraged at bad news, but you bully your own classmates without even realizing it. You play these little games during study hall for fun, never caring if it hurts someone.

"I used to think you were different. Turns out, you're just like the rest.

"So, Tyler, I take back my confession from yesterday."

The words tumbled out in a rush, my voice trembling but clear. I felt lighter, like I’d finally put down a heavy load.

Once, he was as pure as snow on a mountaintop, as bright as the moon behind clouds.

Now, he's just ordinary—nothing special.

It’s strange how people change in your eyes, how the pedestal you built for them can crumble in a heartbeat.

Whether I'm pretty or ugly, someone like him isn't worth my feelings.

I meant it. For the first time, I really meant it.

That day, there was something different in his usually indifferent eyes, but I didn't care to find out anymore.

Maybe it was regret, or maybe just surprise. Either way, it wasn’t my problem anymore.

Not long after, I changed seats.

The teacher called it a random shuffle, but I knew better. Sometimes, adults see more than they let on.

I ended up next to the most rebellious student in school—Derek Santiago.

He was the only boy who didn't participate in the vote.

Also the one Tyler Monroe went out of his way to avoid.

Derek Santiago was a legend, even before I sat next to him. He had that wild, untouchable energy—like he’d been dropped into the wrong movie and was just waiting for someone to notice.

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(Tyler's perspective)

When Tyler wrote Maya Carter's name in that booklet filled with malice and humiliation, what flashed through his mind was the image of Maya smiling at Derek Santiago.

It was the kind of smile you don’t see every day—unfiltered, bright, and meant for someone else. The sight of it made something twist inside him, a feeling he didn’t want to name.

He never thought Maya was ugly.

Not really. He’d seen her laugh, seen her light up when she talked about books or her family’s fruit stand. There was a kind of beauty there, quiet and easy to miss if you weren’t paying attention.

He'd seen her without pimples. Not beautiful, but definitely not ugly.

On those rare days when her skin cleared up, she looked different—softer, almost radiant. It made him wonder what other people saw when they looked at her.

Tyler's mom once said that Maya had striking, distinctive features—if she grew into them and tidied herself up, she might even have the makings of a model.

His mom had an eye for these things. She’d always said that true beauty was about presence, not perfection. Tyler never forgot that.

But boys Tyler's age couldn't see that kind of beauty.

Back then, all they cared about was popularity, trends, the kind of beauty that looked good in Instagram selfies. The rest went unnoticed.

Maya had top grades, a stubborn streak, and wisdom beyond her years. She always brushed off teasing and pranks with a few words.

She never let anyone see her sweat. Even when the boys tried to get a rise out of her, she handled it with grace, never letting them win.

Once, Derek Santiago bought Starbucks for the whole class. A boy teased her: "Maya, you have so many pimples. Should you really be drinking all that sugar?"

It was the kind of comment that would have made most girls wilt. But not Maya.

She shot back, "If you want my latte, just say so. Do my homework for me and you can have it."

The class cracked up, and even Derek raised an eyebrow, impressed. Tyler remembered thinking, not for the first time, that Maya was tougher than she looked.

He admired her, but it never reached the level of romantic feelings.

At least, that’s what he told himself. Admiration was safe—anything more was dangerous.

So when Maya confessed, Tyler turned her down.

He told himself it was for the best. It was easier to keep things simple.

But when he got home and saw all the things her family had brought over, and the hot cocoa she'd left at his door, he felt uneasy—afraid she was too sad—so he went out to look for her again.

He tried to pretend he was just being neighborly, but the truth was, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

He ended up seeing Derek Santiago at her fruit stand.

Derek was leaning against the counter, talking to Maya like they’d known each other forever. Tyler felt a flash of jealousy he couldn’t explain.