The Diary That Held The Votes Against Me Chapter 02

Sloane smiled sweetly at Julian. “Thanks for remembering I don’t eat spicy food.”

A moment later, Julian casually handed me a plate piled with grilled zucchini.

It was my least favorite.

Sloane looked up at him, her eyes bright. “The merit-exam results come out tomorrow. Where are you headed this fall?”

Julian answered evenly, “I went over your answers. You should clear the top scholarship tier easily. As for college…”

“Wherever you go, I’ll go.”

He didn’t hesitate for even a second.

But I remembered when he’d sworn that the two of us would make it to Stanford together.

I suddenly remembered the night the state merit exam ended.

With my unusually good memory, I’d reconstructed my answers afterward and rushed to Julian, excited for him to tell me how I’d done.

He barely looked at the page before crumpling it up and tossing it into the trash.

“The test is over. What’s the point of going through all your answers now?”

“You’ve never been one of the top students, you don’t handle pressure well, and you keep getting written up for cheating. It’s not like you’re suddenly going to pull off some amazing score.”

“If you’ve got this much time to waste, go online and learn how to do your makeup or dress better. At least make yourself look decent.”

So he’d wanted to get rid of me all along.

I snapped back to the present when Sloane suggested a silly “What Do You Have That I Don’t?” game.

By the final round, only Sloane and I were still in.

One of our classmates suddenly called out, “Nora, you’ve got this one! There’s something you have that Sloane definitely doesn’t!”

Almost everyone exchanged knowing looks.

I was the only one who didn’t get the joke.

Then Sloane smirked and traced a finger across her cheek, mimicking the scar on mine.

“Fine, you win. You’ve got a scar, and I don’t. How did you not figure that out, idiot?”

Technically, I’d won.

But somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to smile.

Julian glanced at me. When he saw that I was on the verge of tears, his expression stiffened.

“Enough. Why’d you have to bring up her scar? Talk about it behind her back if you want, but don’t say it to her face.”

I stopped playing after that.

Someone rolled their eyes and complained that I was killing the mood, but I didn’t bother arguing.

I spent the rest of the night sitting quietly in a corner, watching everyone else enjoy a party I clearly didn’t belong at.

By the time people started leaving, a Rolls-Royce had appeared outside.

A well-dressed middle-aged man sat behind the wheel, polished and effortlessly elegant. The woman beside him looked equally refined and clearly accustomed to being doted on.

The commotion outside gradually drew closer.

The man stepped out with a smile, his arms loaded with shopping bags.

“You’re all Sloane’s classmates, right?”

“I’m her dad. Thank you for looking out for her through high school. We brought a few small gifts for everyone. Sloane, come hand them out.”

One girl opened her box and shrieked.

“It’s a rose-gold Tiffany bracelet! Sloane, your parents are insane. This whole haul has to be six figures!”

The boys received luxury watches worth several thousand dollars apiece.

In an instant, every envious gaze in the yard was fixed on Sloane.

When it was finally my turn, she gave me a pointed eye roll.

“Dad, we’re one short.”

Her father hurried over and started apologizing.

“Oh, that’s my mistake. I must’ve forgotten one. I can just give you some cash instead—”

Then our eyes met.

His voice died.

I gave a dry laugh and spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear.

“No, thank you… Mr. Bennett.”

I put deliberate emphasis on “Mr. Bennett.”

When I was five, there had been another late night just like this.

I’d knelt on the floor, clinging to his leg and sobbing until my throat hurt, begging him not to leave me.

“I’ll be good, Daddy. Please don’t leave me!”

“I’ll be good at the new house. I’ll do chores, wash my own clothes, get myself to school…”

“Please don’t leave me. I’m scared to be all alone…”

He kicked me away without a shred of mercy.

My back slammed into the sharp corner of the coffee table, and the pain folded me in half.

He looked down at me with cold contempt.

“Your mother and I are divorced. If you see me somewhere from now on, don’t call me Dad.”

“And get this through your head. I only have one daughter. Her name is Sloane.”

A year later, I gathered up all the school award certificates I’d earned that year and transferred from bus to bus across town, full of hope as I made my way to his office.

Outside the building, I saw him carefully straightening a princess dress covered in diamonds and pearls.

Before I even had a chance to get excited, I heard his assistant flattering him.

“Sloane only mentioned wanting a princess dress for her birthday, and you actually flew to Italy to rush a custom order. You really do spoil her, Mr. Bennett.”

He carefully placed the dress back in its box.

“If Sloane wants something, what kind of father would I be if I didn’t give it to her?”

The tenderness in his eyes was something I’d never once received from him.

That was when I understood.

Being loved had nothing to do with being exceptional or getting good grades.

Sloane only had to exist, and the whole world was hers.

The awards I’d guarded so carefully all the way there suddenly seemed both ridiculous and pathetic.

Later, I legally changed my name.

I dropped Bennett and became Nora Hart, the name my mother had chosen for me.