Winning My Ex-Crush

Fenella’s POV

“So, Fenella, what was your relationship with Laird? Were you guys dating?” The girl asked me bluntly. Without any hesitation, without any shame, she felt entitled to ask.

“A secret,” I replied to avoid answering Amy’s question.

“Hey, there shouldn’t be any secrets between us,” Amy said, backed up by the others.

They then resumed polishing their nails. I followed suit, buffing my nails until they gleamed, and then they pressed me again.

“Just childhood friends. We were neighbors in Boston,” I said softly.

“Cool!” they exclaimed.

“You still had a chance, Amy!” Sophie exclaimed excitedly.

“Of course. All the girls at school were after Laird, but they would lose to me. I would become the cheerleading captain and date him,” Amy said confidently, flicking her hair back.

There was a pang in my chest hearing that, but I didn’t show it to them. I just closed my mouth and laughed silently. Ha! Let them hope for whatever they want, but Laird won’t just switch his heart to Amy that easily. I was sure of that.

“By the way, Fenella, you should bring someone from your class to mentor us.” Amy raised her hand to examine her newly polished nails under the room’s light.

“For a study group?” I asked.

“Yes, of course.”

“I thought our study group was going to find senior mentors to help us.” I frowned.

“No, I think we’d be more comfortable with mentors of our own age. Besides, we won’t really study.” Amy chuckled.

“We’ll gather the mentors’ assignments, then modify them to submit to our teachers. Sophie has already found someone willing to help as an editor.”

“By modify, do you mean cheating?” I confirmed again.

“Of course not! Plagiarism is a serious offense in our school. We’ll just study their assignments as references,” Amy said slowly, then they burst into giggles again.

“You know, we won’t have time to actually do the assignments from scratch, let alone study with a mentor. Our time will be spent on cheer practice and having fun.”

I could only nod in agreement. Maybe they had a point.

“Oh, and you should dye your hair, Fenella,” Amy spoke up again.

“Why?” I furrowed my brow in confusion once more.

“You know, every member of a group has their own uniqueness. Since I’m going to be the cheerleading captain, I’ll be the blonde girl. We can’t have two blonde girls on the same team.” The other three nodded in agreement.

“I’ll be the redhead,” Sophie said.

“And I’ll be the one with black hair,” Nicole chimed in.

“I’ll be the one with dark skin,” Meg added.

“You’ll be the brunette. We don’t have anyone with brown hair yet,” Amy concluded.

“If Fenella has brown hair, our group will look complete! It makes me want to watch this movie again,” Meg exclaimed, pointing at a classic teen-life movie.

“But there’s no one of Chinese descent like me there,” Nicole pouted.Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.

“In that case, let’s watch teen musical series instead,” I suggested.

They all turned to me simultaneously, then fell silent. They shook their heads and started scoffing at the TV show. They gave various reasons, but their words were too nosy for me to catch.

“This one has two blonde girls,” I quickly said, and they protested louder. Then I rattled off all the classic teen drama movies I’ve ever watched.

I guess that’s the only thing that unites us all. Every Friday night, we would sit in the lounge and watch classic teen movies together while pampering ourselves. However, we always argued about which movie to watch.

“Stop!” Amy yelled hysterically, cutting off all arguments. We all fell silent, staring at Amy.

“Let’s just watch my choice of movie,” Amy said, pressing the remote. She always had the final say.

That’s more or less how social life was at my school. Whitehill Academy was indeed the most prestigious school in the region. They had over a thousand students, as well as a housing complex that served as a dormitory.

My four friends and I lived in the same house. According to Amy, we had received special treatment. We could live more privately and freely because our parents had provided larger donations than those of the children living in the 3-story dormitory building.

Well, maybe that was true. We each got our own rooms without having to share with others. Our housemaster also rarely visited, and our prefects were softer than those in other houses.

Amy was the daughter of a hotel and mall chain owner. Sophie was the daughter of an international charity organization’s leader. Nicole was the daughter of a multinational bank owner. Meg, the daughter of a renowned music producer, concealed her father’s identity to evade paparazzi scrutiny.

We all joined the cheerleading team as freshmen. When I joined the cheerleading team, my goal was to always support Laird at every game. I also volunteered to be the person in charge of leading the baseball game supporters.

Amy initially wanted to be in charge of leading the baseball supporters, but fortunately, she didn’t fully grasp the game’s rules, so they assigned her to the basketball team instead.

I thought it was normal for us to form groups and take our respective positions at school. Amy insisted that we wouldn’t bully other kids. She said that even though our positions were higher than theirs, she had another way to leverage our social status.

This academy was the number-one academic and sports school. There was no time to relax and be complacent because they demanded good grades from every student. They also didn’t hesitate to expel anyone who fell behind academically, even if their extracurricular achievements were outstanding.

And, oh God, our schoolwork was heavy!

Moreover, they posted all the exam and assignment results for each class on the school’s internal website. That was the only way to know our grade. According to our teacher, it was meant to motivate us.

For me, the situation had the opposite effect on my mental state. I was always in panic mode because my grades were always among the bottom five in almost all my classes, and Laird knew. He was worried, too, and he tried to offer himself to teach me, but I didn’t want to take away his rest time.

One day, Amy came up with an idea. The five of us formed a study group to recruit mentor friends willing to discuss school assignments with us.

Our study group became my hope, whether I liked it or not, given my condition, I complied with Amy and stayed in our small group. I didn’t want Laird to accuse me of not keeping my promise to always accompany him if I got kicked out of school.

Moreover, our relationship was now running smoothly, enough to make Laird more open to me about all his feelings and all the events he experienced. His parents’ divorce had dragged on because of property disputes and their law firm’s dissolution, and it was likely to continue for the next two years.

My determination would not waver to stay at this school to accompany Laird. For that, I would do whatever it took.

Dyeing my hair and eyebrows brown? Pfft, child’s play. Although it was silly, it wasn’t difficult. Approaching a smart kid to be our study group mentor? Easy.