Red Card to Your Heart: You Don't Deserve My Love Extra Time novel Chapter 76

He always thought of me that way.

With over hundreds of students in each grade, realistically, Caspian and I might never have crossed paths again after graduation.

If, that is, he hadn't been a habitual truant.

And if I hadn't just so happened to be a Hall Monitor, dedicated to enforcing every rule and catching every infraction.

Lean and broad-shouldered for sixteen, Caspian had a slightly disheveled look about him. Looking up, he had a rebellious glint in his eyes, an almost arrogant swagger, and a fiercely untamed gaze.

“Can you let me off this time?”

He had a habit of skipping class to watch underground street races for free.

Those things that adults found worthless, only trouble.

“Mm,” I replied, pretending to be uninterested.

He sounded so compliant, I almost believed he was actually going back to class.

But then he let out a soft whistle and agilely scaled the fence, making a clean escape.

Having successfully escaped, he turned his head, his dark eyes rebellious and clear, radiating a youthful, fearless energy.

"Alright then, I'm sure you'll be writing me a referral, senior," he said with a casual smirk.

I hated anyone who didn’t follow the rules.

“Look, Caspian’s collecting love letters again,” My partner in the bathroom, and future boss, my best friend, was gazing out over the railings, towards the figure at the corner of Northwood High under the big tree.

I said with a cold and annoyed tone, "I don't like people who don't obey the rules."

It was like he had heard me, with some super sense he was able to hear my mumbling.

His dark eyes met mine, a hint of challenge in them, as if to say, "I'll do whatever I want. What can you do about it?"

Our paths should not have crossed.

Until one day, someone started following me home.

Walking home after school, I could feel someone tailing me, watching from the shadows.

I knew they were capable of anything.

At the bus stop outside Northwood High,

It was dark, and snow was falling heavily.

Caspian was standing there alone, waiting for the bus. His eyes were volatile, his face holding an intense aura that would ward off any trouble.

He tilted his head, flicking a lighter open, then closed, his movements practiced and dangerous.

Only when those guys were begging for mercy, did he drop the cruel façade.

After that, no one ever bothered me.

In my second year of university, I was studying in Florida.

My sister called me.

"Mom still doesn't want to see you. It's because you look too much like Dad," her voice dripping with mockery and glee.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my emotions, and then coldly asked, “What do you want?”

She giggled, a hint of something suggestive in her tone. 'Do you have the number of that hot guy from your high school, Caspian?'

Because we were family, I could never fully cut ties with her.

That day, though, I blocked her number. We hadn't spoken since, not for decades, not even after my marriage, and subsequent divorce.

At that time, Caspian had just graduated from high school.

After three years without contact, we had become complete strangers once more.