The Rewritten Love: A Second Beginning

Chapter 15

Each class stretched out to 45 minutes. When the bell finally signaled the end of the lesson, Madelyn, almost with a sense of doomed acceptance, walked to the back of the room. She quietly righted Forrest’s knocked-over desk and gathered the scattered books from the floor, tidying them neatly into his drawer. Her actions elicited a flurry of astonished whispers from her classmates.

“No way! Madelyn, who’s always acting high and mighty, is actually picking up books for Forrest? Did she hit her head or something?”

“Can’t believe what I’m seeing. Madelyn, who couldn’t be bothered to speak, is now serving her arch-nemesis Forrest? Holy cow, I must be hallucinating!”

Someone had discreetly snapped a photo of Madelyn’s surprising act of humility and anonymously uploaded it to the school forum.

Madelyn ignored the buzz around her, focusing on straightening up Forrest’s desk. Despite everything, she was just too good-natured to hold Forrest’s temper against him.

Meanwhile, in the grimy alley behind the school, Timothy was debating about which bar to hit that night. Adrian was engrossed in his phone when a headline suddenly popped up.

[Shocker of the Century! Madelyn actually…]

reading, Adrian saw Madelyn’s name and clicked on the link. A photo loaded, revealing Madelyn crouched down, books cradled in her arms. “Holy smokes! Look,

Timothy doubted his hearing for

perfectly. Light streamed in from the window, illuminating

‘Well, I’ll be damned.’

to cafeteria food. Now alone in the classroom, she quietly savored the caramelized pork that Rosario had

gradually returned from their lunch. Madelyn was still struggling with the final math problem. The noise of chatter and footfalls grew louder as it approached the classroom. Startled gasps echoed down

God, it’s Forrest. He isn’t coming back to settle the

Let’s head over and grab a front-row seat. I’ve had it with that lowlife girl. I can’t believe she got

my dad his life over a plot of

fishes in Ventropolis, getting on

words were only ever whispered behind Madelyn’s back. Many in their class had parents whose businesses had suffered at

math problem when a shadow loomed over her. In the next instant, a hand swept across the desk, scattering her books to the floor. She looked up into Forrest’s face, a tumultuous storm of

asked calmly, “Can I

trouble?” His sneer was

his books, he has come to settle the

seat and he had gotten upset. She thought cleaning up for him might serve as a sort of quiet apology. She

the neighboring one had gathered to witness the

“You’ve just messed with my books, too. We’re even. Besides, it’s my turn for cleaning duty today. If you’re unhappy

hands into his pockets and kicked at Madelyn’s desk. “What’s your game, Madelyn? Who are you trying