10: Or I’ll put your mouth to a better use

Ivy’s POV

Mondays were for biology. And sometimes, biology meant dealing with this.

“Wrong,” Brandon scoffed from behind me, his deep, authoritative voice slicing through the classroom like a blade. “That answer makes no sense.”

I exhaled sharply, gripping my pen tighter before slowly setting it down. Here we go.

“It makes perfect sense, actually,” I said, my tone clipped.

Brandon turned his head, leveling me with that infuriating smirk of his—the one that screamed I’m smarter than you, and we both know it.

“If you enjoy being wrong, then sure.”

My jaw tightened. I swear, it was physically painful how much I wanted to turn around and wipe that smug look off his face.

“Mitochondria are the powerhouse of the cell,” I said, forcing my voice to stay calm. “Meaning they generate energy. Muscle cells require more energy, which is why they contain more mitochondria than, let’s say, skin cells. That’s basic biology.”

Brandon leaned back in his chair, stretching like this entire conversation was beneath him.

“That’s an oversimplification,” he drawled. “Neurons also require a lot of energy, yet they contain fewer mitochondria. Meaning your theory is flawed.”

Oh, for the love of—

I turned in my seat, fully facing him now. If he wanted a debate, fine. Let’s go.

“It’s not a theory, it’s a fact,” I shot back, folding my arms. “Neurons rely on aerobic respiration differently because they get most of their energy from glucose oxidation. Muscle cells, on the other hand, need quick bursts of energy for contraction. That’s why they have more mitochondria.”

For the first time, his smirk faltered. It was slight—barely a flicker of hesitation—but I saw it.

His fingers flexed against the edge of his desk.

I pressed my advantage. “If you actually paid attention instead of just assuming you know everything, you’d realize that I’m right.”

Silence stretched between us. Thick. Charged. The kind that made the people around us shift in their seats, eyes darting between us like they were watching a tennis match.

A few amused whispers rippled through the class, and the teacher cleared his throat. “Well, Ivy is correct. Neurons—”

Brandon’s jaw tightened. His head snapped toward the board, but not before I caught the flicker of irritation in his eyes.

Good.

Smiling to myself, I turned back to my notes, tuning out the rest of the lecture. But even as class continued, I felt his gaze burning into the back of my head like a silent threat.

By the time the bell rang, I had already braced myself for what was coming.

I packed up quickly, slipping my notebook into my bag as students filtered out of the room so I could escape him. But the second I stepped into the hallway, a firm hand wrapped around my wrist.

Before I could even process it, I was yanked backward with enough force that my back nearly collided with his chest.

I stiffened.

“What the hell—”

Brandon leaned in, his breath ghosting against the shell of my ear, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.

“Watch your mouth, Ivy,” he murmured, his voice quiet, dangerous.

I barely had time to register his words before he leaned in just a fraction closer, his next sentence sending my stomach into a free-fall.

“Unless you want me to put it to better use for you.”

Oh, what the—

My brain short-circuited.

Heat rushed to my face, my heart slamming against my ribs like it was trying to escape.

For a split second, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

Then survival instincts kicked in.

I yanked my arm free, stepping back so fast I nearly tripped over my own feet. My pulse refused to slow, my skin still burning from where his fingers had been.

Brandon was already walking away, shoving his hands into his pockets like nothing had happened.

Like he hadn’t just left me standing there, completely unhinged.

What the actual hell was that?!

I immediately started heading to the girl's locker room and as I entered, it was already buzzing with conversation. The usual chaos—girls fixing their hair, reapplying lip gloss, complaining about PE before it even started.

“Ivy.” Jackie called out, and I walked over to her.

I pulled my gym clothes from my bag and tossed my sweater beside me. My mind was still reeling from Brandon's words, when Jackie sat down next to me, grinning as she dug through her own bag.

“So,” she said casually. “Did you hear about Caleb and Tasha?”

I blinked, unzipping my hoodie. “What about them?”

Before Jackie could respond, the locker room door swung open and Amari walked in. And as expected, every girl in the locker room immediately turned into a simpering mess.

The hushed admiration, the not-so-subtle whispers, the way their eyes practically sparkled as they took her in.

Then, to my complete surprise, her gaze landed directly on me.

“Ivy.” She smiled, her tone friendly, casual—like we were already friends. “I need your help with something.”

She's talking to me?

I blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Uh… okay?”

She moved closer, sitting down gracefully on the bench across from me, crossing one leg so elegantly.

“I want to host a party. But I don’t really know how to go about it since I’m new here. You seem to know your way around things, so I figured you could help.”

A party?

I exchanged a quick glance with Jackie, who looked equally surprised.

“Um,” I said, trying to process. “What exactly do you need help with?”

Amari sighed dramatically, tossing her hands up. “Everything. The location, the drinks, the music… the guest list.”

Her lips curled slightly at the last part, like she was already envisioning the perfect event. “It has to be amazing.”

I hesitated for a beat before nodding. “Sure. I can help.”

Amari’s smile widened. “Perfect,” she said. “I’ll text you later with the details.”

And just like that, she stood, flashing me one last grateful smile before heading out the door.

We didn't have the time to process Amari’s request because our PE teacher, Mr Reginalds, assistant barged in and chased all of us to the gym.

The moment we stepped in, pairings began. Jackie got paired with Martha and I, unfortunately with Demi.

Great way to ruin the day.

Jackie sighed dramatically. “At least you got your boyfriend.”

Yes. My thorn in my flesh boyfriend.

I forced a smile, already dreading the entire PE period.

As Jackie trudged toward Martha, I felt my stomach churn as Demi approached, his usual smug expression firmly in place.

I barely managed to keep my irritation in check as I moved into position on the mat, lying back while he grabbed my legs for the exercise.

I could feel his gaze on me. Every slow, deliberate look.

It crawled under my skin, setting my teeth on edge. The way he held my legs wasn’t even necessary—just an excuse to touch me.

I clenched my jaw, focusing on the exercise, trying to block him out.

Then, just as I was about to ignore it, he spoke.

“Are you a B or a C?”

I froze mid-lift, my blood running cold.

Slowly, I met his gaze. “What?”

Demi smirked, his eyes fixed on my chest area. “Your bra size. B or C?”

Disgust churned in my stomach.

I said nothing. Just swallowed it down and was able to endure thirty-five suffocating minutes with Demi.

Finally PE was over, and everyone was packing up the equipment used. I grabbed my mat, ready to put it away, when Demi suddenly cornered me.

“I already fixed another meeting with my friend for the weekend, babe. So you better be there with my money.”