Not Your Heroine: Rewriting the Script

I was surrounded by half the class, getting called a slut to my face. And the reason? Some girl in our grade had a massive, secret crush on my childhood best friend.

She didn't even have the guts to confess to him. Instead, she just stared at us every single day, looking like a kicked puppy on the verge of shattering into a million pieces.

And now, these cheerleader and fratboy wannabe assholes were actually pointing their fingers at my nose, trying to force me to cut ties with my best friend.

A harsh laugh ripped from my throat. Chapter 1 I scoffed, crossing my arms. "Like I give a damn what she thinks! Preston is the object of her secret crush, not her damn property.

Every time I get within ten feet of him, she puts on this tragic face like someone ran over her dog. She acts like Preston and I owe her some massive apology. Honestly?

It's pathetic." One of the girls stepped up, her jaw tight. "But she just has a crush on Preston.

What's wrong with liking someone?" A guy next to her sneered. "If you ask me, the problem is your boy Preston. He needs to drop the act.

If he doesn't like Hazel, he should just reject her flat out. Why the hell is he stringing her along?" Another girl chimed in. "Exactly. It's disgusting.

He's just eating up the attention, loving the fact that a girl is completely obsessed with him. I just feel bad for Hazel. Crushing on a total fake like Preston.

Not admitting it, not rejecting her… that's textbook fuckboy behavior! And to think everyone else thinks he's this perfect, gentle guy.

If he was a real gentleman, he'd keep his distance from you and every other girl, instead of breaking Hazel's heart.

He has zero respect for her!" I stared at them, my brain struggling to process the sheer stupidity. "Are your heads full of actual garbage?

Did Hazel ever actually confess to Preston?" The group puffed up, their chins tilting up in defiance. "Of course not!

That's why it's a secret crush!" I snapped right back. "Oh, so you admit she never confessed! If she hasn't said a damn word to him, how exactly is Preston supposed to reject her?

What if he turns her down, and she plays the victim to save her pride, claiming he's delusional and full of himself?

Then Preston just looks like a total idiot!" They opened their mouths, scrambling for another excuse.

I held up a hand, cutting them off cold. "If you think me hanging out with Preston is a crime, then go ahead and dial 911. Have the cops come arrest us.

And while they're at it, have them check if your brains are completely filled with trash!" One of the guys, his face flushing red, spat out a pathetic comeback. "I pity your future husband.

His wife is already hooking up with other guys in high school. You're gonna cheat on him before you even meet him.

He's just gonna end up raising someone else's mess." I looked him up and down, a smirk playing on my lips. "I think you better save that pity for yourself.

With an IQ like yours, if you ever stepped out on the streets, you wouldn't even survive the first episode." I spun on my heel and walked away, not giving them another second of my time.

Behind me, I heard the guy mutter, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Someone hissed back at him. "She's calling you a brainless idiot!" I didn't turn around to see his face turn purple, but I could feel his pathetic rage burning holes in my back.

A few days before Preston's birthday. The imported sneakers I ordered for him finally arrived in the mail. Even while sitting at his house, grinding through our homework.

A satisfied hum vibrated in my chest. Chapter 2 It was exactly 11:30 PM.

I was just zipping up my backpack, getting ready to head across the hall to my own apartment, when Preston's phone blared. He hit speakerphone on reflex.

Hazel’s voice trembled over the heavy bass and chaotic background noise spilling from the device. "Preston, can you come to that underground bar downtown and save me?

I work here, and some junkie has been groping me. Now he's got me trapped in the employee hallway, and I'm so scared…" A frantic pounding echoed through the speaker.

Preston stared at the phone, his handsome face twisting into a mask of pure disbelief. "Uh, if you have the time to call me, wouldn't dialing 911 be a better move?

You really don't give a crap about my safety, do you? I'm definitely not coming down there. I value my life. But I can call the cops for you. You're welcome." Right at that moment.

Glowing text hovered in the air right in front of my eyes. [Why isn't the male lead following the script?!

Right now, he should be stealing his parents' car and running a dozen red lights to save our precious female lead!] [Forget the cops, she wants him to be her knight in shining armor!] [Why do you think our baby Hazel is working at a sketchy bar in the middle of the night?

She knew a cheap birthday gift wouldn't cut it.

She wanted to buy him those thousanddollar sneakers!] [Our baby Hazel and her grandma haven't even worn shoes that cost more than fifty bucks.

When you think about it, the male lead is total trash!] [If anything happens to her, it's 100% his fault!

She called him for help, and all he did was call the cops!] Seeing these comments, I could practically applaud this damn victimnarrative logic. I remembered her background.

Her parents passed away when she was young, leaving her to be raised entirely by her grandmother.

You didn't need a math degree to calculate the struggle of a woman in her seventies trying to raise a kid through high school. Hazel was practically broke.

Yet, she was sneaking off to work at an underground bar in the middle of the night. All to buy some expensive sneakers for a guy she had a secret crush on.

What, did Preston drag her whole family out of a burning building or something? The aftermath blew up all over school. The bar got permanently shut down for hiring minors.

As for the junkie who harassed Hazel? He slapped down a twothousanddollar outofcourt settlement, and she took it. The day of Preston's birthday finally rolled around.

Hazel practically skipped up to him, excitedly shoving a pair of designer sneakers worth over two grand into his chest.

Preston took one look and stepped back, refusing to take the box. Hazel's face crumbled. "Do you hate me that much?

You won't even accept a gift from me?" Preston scowled, visibly exhausted by her mental gymnastics. "What the hell are you talking about?

Why would I accept twothousanddollar shoes from a random classmate? Back when you gave that financial aid speech to the whole school, you cried about your parents passing away.

You said your seventyyearold grandma raised you. You said she wakes up at 5:00 AM to work the orchards just to pay your tuition and save up for your college fund.

She scrimps on every meal to give you the best, refusing to even buy medicine for her bad joints." He pointed at the box in her hands. "You have two grand, and you blow it on me?

Buy your grandma a winter coat. Buy her a decent steak. Take her to a damn doctor.

Literally anything makes more sense than wasting it on me!" Hazel stared at him, shrinking back as if she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole. Chapter 3 Saturday.

My parents were out of town for the entire day. So, I had dinner over at Preston's place.

Later that evening, I hung out in his study, and we ground through our homework assignments together. Heavy raindrops pelted the windowpanes. Outside, a massive thunderstorm raged.

Right then. A loud doorbell chime pierced the air, immediately followed by frantic, desperate pounding on the front door. A few seconds later.

Preston's mom called out, her voice laced with hesitation. "Preston, could you come out here for a second? Your… classmate is here to see you." I glanced at my phone screen.

It was past 10:00 PM. Who the hell was coming over looking for him at this hour? Preston shot me a look that perfectly mirrored my own confusion.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I trailed right behind him into the hallway. Right on cue, the glowing text floated into my vision. [Is Leighton a lapdog?

Following Preston around all day, have some shame! A girl hanging out at a guy's house this late at night!

Didn't her parents teach her basic decency?] I swiped a hand through the air, ignoring the braindead comments. My eyes locked directly onto Hazel.

She was dripping wet, her clothes clinging to her in a disheveled mess.

The second she saw Preston, her eyes went red, tears welling up instantly. "Preston," she whimpered, her voice cracking.

She wiped at her eyes, looking like the ultimate tragic heroine, her gaze wet and pleading. "Can you… can you let me stay here tonight?

I usually live with my aunt, but tonight, while I was in the shower, my uncle suddenly busted into the bathroom. He tried to… he tried to force himself on me.

I fought him off and ran for my life. It's so late, and I'm terrified.

Preston, please, can you just help me and let me crash here for one night?" As a girl, hearing something like that immediately set my blood boiling. "Did you call the cops?" I demanded. "If something like that happens, your first move is dialing 911 and getting that absolute creep locked behind bars!" The text panel instantly exploded. [Holy crap!

Leighton is such a toxic bitch!] [They're both girls, why is her mind so twisted?!

Actually manipulating our baby Hazel to call the cops!] [Don't think I can't see right through her little scheme.

If our baby Hazel actually calls the cops, her whole life becomes a messy court case!

Even though it's not Hazel's fault, everyone will stare at her and she'll be labeled the damaged trauma girl!

Leighton is so manipulative!] [If calling the cops is so great, why do so many girls stay quiet?

Because once you get the law involved, it just tears the whole family apart and makes you the outcast!] [Honestly, if it were me, I wouldn't call the cops on a relative either.

I'd be too scared of the drama and people pointing fingers, whispering that I was the one who provoked him.] [So our baby Hazel is totally right not to call the cops!

If she calls 911, Child Protective Services will drag her away to some horrific foster home!

Plus, she's still counting on her aunt to pay her college tuition!] Staring at that glowing stream of garbage logic, a harsh laugh actually tore from my throat.

Since when was it a crime for a victim to call 911 after being attacked?

If someone's first instinct is to point fingers at the victim, it just proves they're cut from the exact same sick cloth as the abuser.

Chapter 4 To my absolute disgust, Hazel’s mindset mirrored the glowing text perfectly. She dropped her head, a pathetic sob escaping her lips. "I don't want to call the cops.

I don't want anyone to know about this.

Plus, he's still my uncle… I don't want him to go to jail." She looked up at Preston, her eyes begging. "Preston, please, can I just stay here for tonight? Just one night.

I can sleep on the couch, or if there's no room, I can even just sleep on the floor in your bedroom." Hearing that last part, a dark chuckle almost slipped past my lips.

The floating text, however, was throwing a fullblown celebration. [Oh my god, our baby Hazel is so smart!] [The male lead definitely won't have the heart to make her sleep on the floor.

Tonight, our baby Hazel gets to sleep wrapped up in his scent! If they're sharing a bed, how far away can they be from hooking up? Hehehe.] Preston didn't even skip a beat. "No.

It's not convenient." He paused, throwing her a bone out of basic human decency. "If you don't have anywhere to go, I can book you a hotel room." Fresh tears immediately spilled down Hazel's cheeks.

Her shoulders shrank. "I don't want to stay in a hotel.

I'm scared to be alone… I'm terrified someone will break into my room, or that there are hidden cameras." Dead silence filled the room.

Hazel finally broke the tension, directing her guilt trip at Preston's mom. "I'm sorry for making this so difficult for you, ma'am. Just pretend I never asked. Don't worry about me.

Even if I stay out on the streets tonight and it's dangerous, it's still safer than going back to my aunt's.

If something terrible happens to me… I won't blame you." She forced a brave, painfully fragile smile onto her pale face.

Preston's mom had looked somewhat sympathetic at first, but after that heavyhanded guilt trip, her expression morphed into something far more complicated.

Still, realizing how unsafe it was for a teenage girl to be out in a thunderstorm, she finally gave a reluctant nod. "Fine.

You can crash here for one night." Hazel's eyes instantly lit up. She gave a shy, relieved smile. "Thank you so much. You really don't have to make Preston give up his bed for me.

I'll just make a pallet on his floor." Preston's mom blinked, staring at Hazel for a solid few seconds as if she had grown a second head. "…You don't need to sleep on the floor.

We have multiple guest rooms." The smile vanished from Hazel's face in a microsecond. After tossing Hazel into one of the guest rooms down the hall.

Preston's mom pulled him aside, keeping her voice low. "If we leave your classmate outside, she's in danger.

But having her stay in our house… why do I feel like you're the one in danger? Lock your door tonight.

What if she just so happens to 'walk into the wrong room' in the dark and ends up in your bed?" A cold, hard shadow dropped over Preston's face.

Since my parents were out of town and the storm outside was apocalyptic, his mom insisted I just take the guest room next to Preston's. Turns out, her warning wasn't a joke.

In the dead of night, I heard creeping footsteps in the hallway. Through the crack in my door, I watched a shadow pause right outside Preston's bedroom.

The brass handle rattled softly. Finding it locked, the shadow finally gave up and slinked away. But the freak show wasn't over.

Later, I stepped out to grab a glass of water, only to find Preston standing frozen in the hallway. Light spilled from the halfopen bathroom door.

At first, I thought someone was just using the toilet, but the distinct sound of clothes being scrubbed echoed from inside.

Preston approached the doorway, his brow furrowed in confusion. I walked up right behind him. Through the open door, we both saw her.

Hazel was standing by the sink, her cheeks flushed a deep, feverish red, holding the boxers Preston had thrown in the laundry hamper after his shower.

It played out exactly like a cheap, thirdrate thriller. Her shy, blushing expression looked downright twisted under the harsh midnight bathroom lights.

The veins in Preston's neck instantly popped. I could see the furious flush creeping up his jaw.

He ground his teeth together, his voice low and dangerous. "What the hell are you doing?" Chapter 5 Through the open bathroom door.

Preston saw Hazel standing there, her face flushed red, holding the boxers he had tossed into the laundry hamper after his shower.

It played out exactly like a cheap, thirdrate thriller. Her shy, blushing expression looked downright twisted under the harsh midnight bathroom lights.

The veins in his neck popped.

The muscles along his jaw ticked sharply, his teeth grinding together. "What the hell are you doing?!" Right at that exact second, right before I went to sleep, the floating text flooded my vision again. [Aww, our baby Hazel is so sweet and grateful!

The male lead took her in, and to repay him, she's washing his boxers in the middle of the night!] [Not gonna lie, looking at those boxers… you just know the male lead is packing.

Our baby Hazel is so lucky!] [I wonder if our baby Hazel will even be able to handle his size.

But it's okay, she'll get used to it slowly and be so, so happy!] [Do you think our baby Hazel is thinking about that too?

That must be why she's blushing so hard!] Hazel flinched like a startled rabbit.

She dropped her head, her face burning so red it looked ready to bleed. "Preston… I just wanted to thank you for taking me in tonight.

I wanted to do something to repay you." "It's only repayment if it's something I actually asked for.

Touching my personal items without permission is called being a psycho stalker!" Preston stared her down, his eyes icecold. He didn't move until her face turned the color of chalk.

Then, he closed the distance, snatched the boxers right out of her tight grip, and tossed them straight into the trash can right in front of her.

His upper lip curled, like the mere fact her hands had touched his clothes had permanently contaminated them. Tears instantly welled up in Hazel's eyes.

Preston's jaw clenched, his expression unyielding. "Get out first thing in the morning. My house isn't a charity for creeps." Hazel's entire body trembled.

The next day during lunch break. Preston hit the basketball court with some guys from our class. I was just about to rest my head on my desk and catch a quick nap