Chapter 2: Playing Heroine’s Ally—Or Target?

Again, Mrs. Watkins woke me up with her usual nagging the next morning. Her voice was like an alarm clock set on repeat. I groaned, pulling the covers over my head, but she wouldn’t let up.

I made it to the Academy on time, muddled through Mr. Carter’s boring lecture. By the time I woke up from my desk nap, everyone else was gone. Yawning, I walked through the town’s garden and overheard a conversation. The air was thick with the scent of honeysuckle and the low buzz of gossip. I ducked behind a rosebush, listening in.

"Elena, I’ve heard you’re super talented. Why don’t you help me get a good ranking at the Mayor’s birthday party?"

One of the voices was sharp, almost whiny. I recognized it as one of the councilman’s daughters—always looking for shortcuts.

"Yeah, the First Lady says you’re so kind. Surely you have some tricks up your sleeve, right?"

The second voice chimed in, just as needy. I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. Why did girls like this always travel in pairs?

Two sharp female voices grated on my nerves. They sounded like they’d swallowed a bag of lemons. I braced myself for the inevitable drama.

From deeper inside, Elena’s voice replied, "Sorry, but I need to prepare too. I can’t help you both."

Her tone was polite, but there was steel underneath. I admired her for standing her ground. Not bad, heroine.

"Wait, why are you running? Aren’t you talented? Won’t even help with a little thing. Have you thought about your dad’s job?"

I recognized that tactic—classic small-town pressure. Threaten the family, guilt-trip the girl. Typical.

"Yeah, Elena, smart people go with the flow."

They sounded smug, as if they held all the cards. I clenched my fists, resisting the urge to step in. I’d seen enough reality TV to know how this scene played out.

I rolled my eyes. These two are something else. Wanting all the benefits with none of the work—do they have to be so obvious?

I’d seen enough reality TV to know how this scene played out. But this time, I wasn’t just a bystander—I could do something.

There was a scuffle. Suddenly, I remembered: in the plot, whenever the heroine was bullied, the hero would show up just in time. This is my chance to shine…

I squared my shoulders, channeling my inner superhero. If I couldn’t win the story, I could at least change it.

"Hey!"

My voice rang out, sharper than I intended. The three girls froze and looked at me. Next to Elena were the councilman’s two daughters, also my classmates. But the person who was supposed to show up wasn’t here…

Guess I’d have to play hero myself.

"Ahem, ahem…" I cleared my throat and said, "Why are you making such a racket in the Mayor’s garden?"

I tried to sound authoritative, like my dad when he scolded my brothers for fighting over the TV remote.

The three saw it was me and immediately looked guilty. The other two started complaining: "It was Elena who started it."

They both pointed fingers at Elena, desperate to shift the blame. Typical.

"We were just kidding, didn’t think she’d take it seriously."

Their voices were small now, all the bravado gone. I almost felt sorry for them—almost.

I raised an eyebrow, thinking, if I can’t get on Mr. Carter’s good side, these two will do. Maybe if I played my cards right, I could earn some brownie points with the heroine.

"A joke? A joke’s only funny if it’s actually funny."

I let my voice go flat, hoping they’d get the message. Elena looked down, but I caught a flash of surprise in her eyes.

I helped Elena up, then glared at the other two: "From now on, if you see Elena, treat her like you’d treat me. Don’t cause trouble."

My tone was sharp, no-nonsense. The two girls trembled and nodded, clearly intimidated.

Elena looked shocked, clearly not expecting the infamous Savannah to stand up for her. Her eyes widened, and for a split second, I saw gratitude flicker across her face. Maybe I’d finally done something right.

After sending Elena away, I finally sat on a park bench and breathed a sigh of relief. That should count as earning the heroine’s favor, right? At least I’m one step closer to surviving. I didn’t notice that, in the corner, a man had been standing for a while, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

The shadows shifted, and I caught a glimpse of Mr. Carter watching me. He looked away before I could read his expression. Was he impressed? Or just amused?