The Billionaire's Brat Wants Me - Chapter 102: Impossible, Always

Chapter 102: Impossible, Always

Mondays had a way of testing patience. The air always felt heavier, like the weekend had slipped too fast through everyone’s fingers and now we were all being punished for it.

I got to school early. I usually did. Not because I liked Mondays more than the next guy, but because it was habit. Order. My mornings always played out the same way—leave the house before the streets really filled, beat the rush, and let the silence of the empty hallways do the work of waking me up.

Except this morning, the silence wasn’t completely mine.

I spotted Marina up ahead, leaning against the wall by the lecture hall doors, talking to someone. At first I didn’t pay attention—her voice carried when she got animated, and it wasn’t unusual for her to corner whoever she caught first thing. But then I noticed who she was with.

Trent.

Of all people.

I slowed a little, careful not to make it obvious I was watching. They were standing close—not too close, but closer than casual. Her arms were folded, his hand awkwardly running down the back of his neck every other second. They looked like they’d been at it for a few minutes before I showed up.

I didn’t step in. Didn’t say anything. Just kept walking, bag slung over my shoulder, the usual.

But then Marina’s gaze flicked up, locking on me, sharp and deliberate. It wasn’t an accident. She wanted me to see.

A second later, she started walking my way. And she wasn’t coming alone. Trent trailed behind her, looking like a guy who’d rather be anywhere else but was forcing himself to stay put.

I slowed my steps, leaned against the wall, and waited.

“Hey…” Trent’s voice came out low, rough, like he’d been chewing the words for a while and finally spat them out. He scratched the back of his head again. “Kai.”

I raised my brows, glanced at Marina. She gave me a look—a very don’t be an idiot right now kind of look.

So I looked back at Trent.

He cleared his throat. “Look, I just—uh. I wanted to say I’m sorry. For being a jerk.”

That was it. No fancy speech, no buildup. Just the words, plain and clipped, like he wanted them over with.

I let the silence hang for a beat, then nodded. “Cool. Glad you finally noticed.”

His mouth twitched, like he wasn’t sure if I was joking or gearing up for round two. But then he huffed a small laugh, relief sliding across his face.

I let the sarcasm hang there on purpose. Sometimes with guys, that’s all it took—a jab, but a light one, so the edge came off whatever weight was left.

Trent stuck his hand out. “Truce?”

I glanced at Marina again. She was watching both of us like a referee who didn’t trust her players.

I smirked, gripped Trent’s hand, gave it one solid shake. “Truce.”

Simple as that.

It was weird how easy some walls came down once someone finally decided to take a hammer to them.

I shoved my hands in my pockets, leaned against the locker. “So, uh… are you two, like…” I gestured between them. “…a thing now?”

Marina didn’t hesitate. She nodded, chin high like she was daring me to say something about it.

Trent, on the other hand, didn’t flinch or look away. He just gave a small shrug, hands loose at his sides, like he was owning it. Confident. Straightforward. Classic QB.

“Good for you,” I said, and I meant it.

Trent shifted his weight, looked over at Marina. “We should… y’know, grab that thing before class.”

She nodded. “Right. Coming.” Then, to me, “See you later.”

And just like that, they were gone, walking down the hallway together. Not too close, not too far, but enough that the message was clear.

I watched them go, a small smile tugging at my mouth. Finally. The tension was gone.

It felt… lighter. Like a storm that had been brewing too long had finally burned itself out.

I leaned back against the locker again, exhaled, and let myself enjoy that tiny victory. It wasn’t mine, not really, but it meant fewer battles to fight on all sides. Marina was happy. Trent was… trying. And I didn’t have to play the middle anymore.

That’s when she walked in.

The air shifted. It always did with her.

Val.

She didn’t just enter a room—she claimed it. Her heels clicked against the floor, steady and sure, her hair catching the morning light spilling in through the glass doors. It was automatic—the way every head turned, every conversation paused for a second too long.

Her eyes found me in seconds. And suddenly, all the noise, all the eyes, all the heaviness of Monday morning… didn’t matter.

She walked straight over, a small, knowing smile on her lips.

“Morning, husband,” she said, voice light, playful, but threaded with something softer underneath.

And just like that, my mood—which was already good from the whole Marina-Trent thing—brightened even more.

Like the chaos she carried didn’t just stir trouble. Sometimes, it steadied me too.

And I wasn’t about to complain.

—

We made our way to class together, Val slipping into her usual stride beside me like she belonged there—which, at this point, she did. We’d carved out our own little space in the back row, two desks that might as well have had our names etched into them by now.

She dropped into her chair, bag hitting the floor with a soft thud, then turned toward me like I was already supposed to entertain her.

I leaned back in my chair, folding my arms lazily. “Guess what?”

Her head tilted, dark brown hair sliding across her shoulder, eyes narrowing at me like she was trying to read the answer off my face. “What?”

I smirked. “That’s not how it works. You’re supposed to guess.”

She groaned, dragging it out, the kind of sweet little whine she used whenever she wanted me to give in. “Kai…”

I dragged a hand down my face, groaning louder. “Why is it that whenever you do this, suddenly I’m the one who has to guess everything?”

Her lips curved into a grin, voice lifting into that sing-song lilt she pulled out whenever she wanted to win. “Because I’m a girl. A very pretty one.”

The second part came out softer, almost cute enough to make me laugh. Which I did—quietly, shaking my head. “You’re impossible.”

Her grin widened like she’d just scored a point. “So? Are you gonna tell it or not?”

“Fine,” I said, pretending she’d wrung it out of me. I leaned closer, lowering my voice like it was some kind of big reveal. “Marina and Trent. They’re a thing now.”

Her eyebrows lifted, but only slightly. Not exactly shock.

“You don’t look surprised,” I said.

“I am

surprised!” She straightened in her seat, then widened her eyes like she was performing for me. “See?”

Then she gasped, hand to her mouth like it was an afterthought.

I narrowed my eyes. “You already knew, didn’t you?”

Her lips twitched before she caved, giggling. “Marina texted me on the way here.”

I groaned, letting my head fall back against the chair. “Unbelievable.”

Her laughter bubbled out, light and sweet, filling the quiet classroom before everyone else piled in. “But,” she added, leaning her elbow on her desk, chin in her palm, “I still preferred hearing it from you.”

That caught me off guard. My chest warmed in a way I wasn’t ready for, and before I could stop it, a smile pulled at my lips.

Her eyes flicked to it instantly, sly. “You’re blushing.”

“I’m not,” I shot back, maybe too fast.

“You are.” Her grin turned smug. “It’s cute.”

I rolled my eyes, but it only made her giggle harder. She had that look—the one that said she knew exactly how far she could push before I broke.

The professor came in a few minutes later, setting his notes on the desk with the usual heavy sigh. The room settled, notebooks opening, pens scratching—but none of it really reached me.

Val had already pulled out her notebook, only to abandon it two seconds later to start doodling in the corner. Not neat doodles either—swirls, tiny hearts, little squiggles that looked more like daydreams than notes.

When my pen rolled toward the edge of my desk, she snatched it without missing a beat.

“Hey,” I whispered.

She leaned her chin into her palm, eyes flicking toward me with a grin. “What? Sharing is caring.”

I shook my head, biting back a smile. “You’re impossible.”

“You already said that.” She twirled the pen in her fingers, tongue peeking out just slightly in concentration, like the world’s most unserious thief.

I let her keep it. Watching her hum under her breath, tapping the pen against her notebook while pretending to listen to the lecture, was somehow better than anything the professor was saying anyway.

And just like that, the classroom faded around us.

Because no matter what kind of weight the day tried to stack on me, she always had this way of cutting through it.

And right now, with her smiling at me like this, I couldn’t ask for more.

Even if I had no idea about the storms she hid behind that smile.

—

To be continued…

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by AiKurou