"Take off your glasses, Lyric," Gavin whispered, his breath tickling her ear. Lyric's heart raced as she hesitated, her fingers trembling on the frames. She gestured, <<Why?>> Gavin's smile was sly, "Because, babe, I want to corrupt that innocent mouth of yours. And I don't want anything getting in the way." ### Lyric Spencer, a mute and introverted nerd, is the target of relentless bullying at school. But when her best friend dares her to write her New Year's wish and hand it to Santa, Lyric's life takes a dramatic turn. Her wish? To lose her virginity to Gavin Hawkins, the school's notorious bad boy and star hockey player. Gavin, known for his one-night stands and unmatched charm, is nicknamed "The Wall" for his prowess on and off the ice. When Santa hands him Lyric's note, he's shocked to discover the quiet, curvy girl he's had his eye on wants him too. Gavin proposes a deal: he'll grant Lyric's wish if she tutors him. But as they spend more time together, Lyric's innocence and intelligence captivate Gavin, threatening to upend their initial agreement. Will Lyric become just another conquest, or will Gavin find himself craving more?
View MoreChapter One: Nineteen is the Goal
**Lyric POV**
**Flashback**
I remember the red and blue lights of the cop cars flashing like strobe lights, the constant wail of sirens piercing the air, and the golden-haired paramedic gently pulling a cloth over my shoulder. He carefully immobilized my leg while another paramedic held a tiny flashlight, peering into my eyes.
“She looks healthy, aside from a few scratches here and there. The fracture will heal in a month or so. She will be fine,” he announced, but I paid no attention to his words; my eyes were glued to the ambulance.
I stared at the stretcher, horrified as an arm rolled off it and hit the ground. One of the paramedics quickly followed, picking it up and placing it back on the stretcher as if it were a loose gumball. I cringed at the sight of my favorite candy ring adorning her index finger. I had given her that ring.
“What is your name, sweetie? Who is the lady on the stretcher?” he asked. I gave him no response—not because I didn’t want to, but because I couldn’t. My lips suddenly forgot how to move. Tears streamed down my face as my shoulders began to shake. The paramedic cursed under his breath and stared at me intently, his eyes filled with pity. “I think she’s in shock,” he murmured.
---
“Aunt Lyric, Hanna is hugging the bathroom to herself and doesn’t want to come out! I have to pee!” Lana, the youngest of the triplets, exclaimed, dancing in place as if trying to hold it in. Her blonde ponytail bounced with each movement. They were all identical: same hair, same eye color, even the same voice, but I could spot their differences with just a glance.
It was just another chaotic morning at the Spencer house. I had a crying eight-month-old, Derrick, on my hip—he was the youngest of the family—while a six-year-old begged to use the bathroom, and the second triplet, Catherine, played with her train set in her underwear in the living room. Meanwhile, our aspiring pop queen was rocking out to Madison Beer in the bathroom.
Great. Just great.
I turned off the stove, leaving the eggs barely cooked, and rushed to the bathroom to coax Hanna out. The one silver lining of having triplets was not having to deal with triplets and an infant. Derrick's cries grew louder with each step I took, and I didn’t blame him. The poor kid was hungry. His mother had weaned him at six months, which left me to deal with it.
My aunt, Stephanie, loved giving birth but despised everything that followed. I often thought the idea of being paid during her maternity leave excited her more than the children themselves.
I pounded on the bathroom door—three hard knocks—hoping Hanna could hear me above the blaring music. I pictured her inside, probably slathering my lip gloss over her lips while lip-syncing to the catchy tune.
I despised introducing her to music at such a young age.
I hit the door again, wishing I could suddenly yell at this six-year-old to end my suffering by opening the door. It was fifteen minutes past five in the morning; I needed to prepare the triplets for school and Derrick for daycare so I could catch the bus early and arrive at school on time. Today was my first day of sophomore year. I was excited, despite last year being a disaster.
I hit the door again.
Unfortunately, there was still no response.
Lana tugged at my sweatpants, stained with vomit, pee, and remnants of a food fight, as she continued to dance around the room. There was only one bathroom in this three-room apartment, and it was horrifying.
What happened in that bathroom sometimes scared me. I worried the kids might get infections due to their father’s constant infidelities. That was why I washed the bathroom twice a day.
She pulled on my pants again. “Aunt Lyric, please tell her to open the door! I want to pee!” she emphasized, her face scrunched in desperation.
I reached out to ruffle her hair when Catherine, the bane of my existence and the rudest of the triplets, piped up, “Don’t waste your time on Aunt Lyric. Don’t you know she’s mute? Dad says she’s defective and probably doesn’t understand what we’re saying.” She pointed at her head and performed the weirdest sign language I had ever seen—just a figure eight and some random symbol. It was ridiculous.
As much as I wanted to remember that she was just a six-year-old fed nonsense by her alcoholic father, I couldn’t help the pang in my stomach or the sting of tears behind my eyes.
Being called mute was my sore spot.
I knew I couldn’t talk, and it was my worst insecurity. I used to speak freely, but now I didn’t.
“Aunt Lyric hears just fine; she can’t talk, that’s all,” my favorite, Lana, snapped back at her sister. My face lit up with happiness until I felt something warm and liquid hit my feet.
I jumped back, startled, as I noticed the pee pooling on the floor and Lana’s wet skirt. She clapped her hand over her mouth in shock.
One, two, three—I counted to stop myself from thinking about mopping the floor again. Lana broke into giggles. “I don’t need to go to the bathroom anymore!”
I shook my head, exasperated, as Derrick, who had gone quiet, suddenly let out a wail louder than a fire alarm. Speaking of fire alarms, an actual one blared above my head. Before I could react, the system unlocked, and water from the ceiling began to rain down on us.
“It’s raining!” the kids shouted in unison, their laughter echoing through the chaos.
Hanna’s music blared even louder as Lana twirled in delight beneath the unexpected shower.
I dashed across the room for the mop, but my foot slipped on the wet floor, and I fell hard. I managed to secure Derrick in my arms, making sure he didn’t get hurt as I went down.
I blinked the tears away, thinking ' I hate my life.'
Quickly, I got to my feet, shaking off the water and focusing on the triplets. I struggled to sign with Derrick on my hip. <<Okay, everyone, let’s clean up!>>
Due to their young ages, the triplets had learned to comprehend my signs better than my uncle and his wife. In fact, Catherine was the only one among them who still struggled.
The giggles and chaos began to fade as the kids realized they needed to help. Catherine stared down at me with her hands on her hips, “Why would I do that? Aunt Lyric, it’s your job to take care of us. Daddy said you’re our maid.”
Of course, I was the maid. I was also the tutor, the cook, the lawn mower. Ever since I lost my parents, my uncle had taken me in. I became a maid for them.
I started cooking at nine, washing their clothes, going to the market. And with my disorder, everything became so much harder with every human contact.
Nonetheless, I pretended I didn’t hear that. Catherine had been calling me the maid since she was in diapers. It didn’t matter; everything would get better when I turned nineteen. I reminded myself of that.
Lana listened to her sister and ran off somewhere, while I went back to ensure the stove was off and the eggs weren’t completely burnt. They were the last three eggs we had.
The music grew louder, and my aunt yelled something from her room upstairs. I leaned against the kitchen sink, trying to hum Derrick to sleep.
My phone pinged with a message from our school website. I ignored it, focusing on cleaning the dishes with Derrick on my back. He must have fallen asleep as he nestled against me, but my thoughts were interrupted by his soft whimpers before he settled down again.
I continued to hum while secretly repeating my mantra in my head.
*Nineteen is my goal. Nineteen is soon. Nineteen will be the best.*
---
Author's Note
The female character is mute so I will use this symbols ' << >> ' when she is communicating/signing. Thank you.
Chapter 88: Breaking up with you Lyric POV "A lady back there asked if I could give her a drink since she's 'lack toast and tell her aunt,'" Viktor said over the counter, his eyes crinkling with amusement. I stared at him blankly, barely registering his laughter. "She meant lactose intolerant," he added, letting out a deep chuckle. I didn’t laugh. I wasn’t in the mood for jokes. My mind was too preoccupied with my fight with Gavin yesterday. What did he mean by what he said? Shaking off my thoughts, I left the counter to prepare the order Viktor handed me. My body moved on autopilot, my mind still trapped in yesterday’s argument. Then suddenly—pain. Hot coffee spilled over my hand, scalding my skin. The cup hit the floor with a shatter, but I didn’t scream. I didn’t even flinch. I only stared at the mess, the burning sensation barely registering through the numbness inside me. "Lyric, are you hurt?" Viktor’s voice was tight with concern as he hurr
Chapter 87: Who gave you that title? LYRIC SPENCER POV My hands trembled as I sat on the bleachers, clutching the edge of my phone like it was the only thing keeping me grounded. The crowd was still buzzing with energy after the win, but my focus was gone. I didn’t hear the cheers. I didn’t see the flashing lights. I couldn’t feel anything but the weight in my chest. He saw. I knew it the moment I looked up and saw Gavin’s face on the ice. The way his expression fell. The way his shoulders dropped like the air had been knocked out of him. He saw Viktor kiss me. And he thought I let it happen. I swallowed hard, trying not to cry, but the tears blurred everything—my screen, the rink, the people. I wanted to go to him, explain, scream if I had to, but I couldn't even speak. All I had was this goddamn phone, and I couldn’t get close enough in time. I tried to follow him after the ceremony, but the crowd was too thick, and he disappeared before I cou
Chapter 86: A nobody GAVIN HAWKINS POV I couldn’t move. The roar of the crowd faded into a low, muffled hum—like someone stuffed cotton in my ears. Everyone around me was cheering, celebrating, soaking in the win, but all I could hear was the pounding of my heart and the static in my head. Because on that giant screen… I saw her. Lyric. Smiling. Laughing. And Viktor… kissing her like he had the damn right. No. No. No. My throat tightened like it was closing up. My gloves suddenly felt like they weighed a hundred pounds. My chest ached, like someone had slammed a hockey stick straight into it. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t do anything but stare. She didn’t push him away. She didn’t even look surprised. I wanted to believe it was a mistake. That Viktor forced it. That it was out of nowhere. That she didn’t mean to let it happen. But none of it mattered. Because it still happened. And I felt so goddamn stupi
Chapter 85: Sugar town Third person POV “Gavin is back,” Aaron asserted, stepping into the room with urgency in his voice. “Where was he?” someone asked, confusion etched on their face. “Family emergency,” Aaron paused. “He forgot his phone at home, and it was switched off.” “That bigot,” Coach Fedelin cursed under his breath, shaking his head. He turned to Lyric, his expression softening. “Sorry to bother you. We’ll leave now.” Lyric offered him a tight, polite smile, though her mind was already spinning. She wondered how Gavin was doing. What kind of family emergency could make him leave his phone behind? And if his phone was really off... why did he reply to her text? Her eyes narrowed. Why was Gavin lying? A voice broke into her thoughts. “I saw Coach leaving. Is Gavin okay?” someone asked. Lyric nodded and signed, > “Okay. That’s great.” --- In the locker room, Gavin sat on the bench, already dre
Chapter 84 Third Person POV Finally, it was Friday—the day of the long-awaited match. Foreigners and out-of-town visitors filled the town stadium, eager for the game to begin. The scent of grilled hot dogs and burgers filled the air as vendors lined up their stands, taking advantage of the large crowd. Inside the locker room, the coach gathered his players for a final pep talk. The team was fully dressed in their uniforms and hockey gear, ready to take on their opponents. However, as they huddled together, the coach quickly realized someone was missing. "Where is Gavin?" he asked, his voice laced with irritation. The players exchanged confused glances, searching each other’s faces for an answer. "Shawn, you're closest to him. Where is he?" the coach pressed, narrowing his eyes at the player. Shawn hesitated before answering, his voice uncertain. "I don't know, sir. He hasn’t been picking up my calls or responding to my messages." The coach’s express
Chapter 83: Out of the game GAVIN HAWKINS POV The cold evening wind breezed past me, sending a shiver down my spine. I had driven over two towns to reach the Baby Dragon Casino, the location Allesio had assigned me to. The plan was simple: deliver over ten grams of methamphetamine. It was the most sought-after drug of the month, going for over a thousand dollars per 1.5 grams. I pulled over a few blocks from the casino, scanning the area for anything unexpected. By that, I meant the police. This place was notorious for drug dealing, thanks to its location by the famous casino. Politicians, celebrities, and the elite stopped here, not just for high-stakes games but also for a quick fix. Allesio was one of the biggest dealers in town. I was just the messenger. The deal was to dress decently—not enough to raise suspicion, but just enough to blend in while standing out slightly. With tight security and police dogs patrolling the area, the risk was high. I hoppe
Chapter 82: Just some guy > I signed before lowering my hands. Viktor smiled, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “She thinks she’s unlucky. Says I’m too overbearing.” > I teased, raising an eyebrow. "Hey!" He placed a hand on his chest, feigning offense. "I’m just helpful. It’s not my fault people don’t know how to take care of themselves." I rolled my eyes and turned away, stepping toward the main street. The town was quieter now, with most businesses closed for the evening. A few groups of people wandered around, probably visitors in town for tomorrow’s hockey game. Viktor easily fell into step beside me. “Are you walking home alone?” I nodded. "I’ll walk with you," he said casually, shoving his hands into his pockets. > "I know." His voice was light, but his steps remained firm. "But I want to." I didn’t argue. It had been a long day, and honestly, I di
Chapter 81: Gorgeous It was a little hotter than expected in the middle of January. The café was getting fewer and fewer customers during this time. People in Velmont didn’t drink much coffee in winter since snow rarely fell in town. The last time it snowed was at my sixth birthday party. I only remembered because Mama had kept the photos at home. I had clocked out of my shift earlier that day. It had taken a lot of convincing to get both Gavin and my aunt to let me work. The head chef, Sasha, was at the grill, her face red from the heat. She was also washing dishes in the back, her movements sharp with frustration. Then Michael stepped in. He stood by the threshold of the double doors, scanning the room like a hawk. "You, with the ugly hairband." I froze, pointing at my nose in question. "Yes, you," he clarified. Self-conscious, I touched the hairband resting atop my head. My mother had given it to me. It was beige and outdated, but I loved it.
Chapter 80: I pity her Gavin Hawkins’ POV I would like to say everything was going according to my plan. But it wasn’t. Lyric was never meant to be part of my life, and it would take me a year to realize it. Because if something wasn’t yours, it would hurt you until you realized it. --- I pulled my Jeep into the driveway of Alessio’s house, gripping my keys tightly as I made my way to the door. Lyric and her aunt were safer in my house than they were anywhere in Velmont, but that didn’t mean Alessio couldn’t still harm them. I wasn’t going to let that happen. Running a hand through my hair, I tried to ignore the weight of the steel tucked into my jeans. I pressed the doorbell. A sharp voice erupted from the speaker beside the gate. "Who is it?" "Gavin Hawkins. I'm here to see your boss, Alessio," I spoke into the intercom. The response was immediate and laced with hostility. "My boss says he doesn’t know a Gavin Hawkins. Leave be
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