The Man Who Ruined My 22nd, the Customer Who Wanted a Steamed Bun Chapter 08

The Man Who Ruined My 22nd, the Customer Who Wanted a Steamed Bun Chapter 08

Vivienne and I had been inseparable since middle school.

Back then, she had the best grades in our class, possessing a quiet, delicate face and a sweet, obedient personality.

As for me, I had been hot-tempered since I was little.

People called me Quinn the Wildcat.

I never went looking for trouble, but I was never afraid of it either. More than anything, I loved stepping in when someone was being bullied.

So when I saw Vivienne cornered by a group of older boys in the alley behind the school, I didn’t think twice.

I threw myself right in front of her, flashing my fists, and sent those boys scrambling.

When I turned around, Vivienne was crying so hard her face was soaked.

I hugged her and told her not to be scared.

I asked her why they were bullying her.

She choked out that they’d found out she was a foster kid.

They told her nobody would care if she vanished, because she had no real parents to protect her.

Hearing that made me so angry I could barely breathe.

I kept regretting that I had not hit them harder.

I told Vivienne, “Don’t worry. From now on, I’ve got your back. If anyone messes with you again, they’ll have to get through me first.”

From then on, we became inseparable best friends who told each other everything.

Sometimes, when I thought about how lonely she must have been growing up by herself, I felt sorry for her from the bottom of my heart.

So whenever I had something good to eat or something fun to play with, I always thought of her first.

But I did not know when it started.

Every now and then, Vivienne would look at me in a strange way.

It did not quite look like anger, but it seemed close.

Her brows would draw together slightly, and she would stare at me without blinking.

Whenever I called her name, she would smile and answer as if nothing had happened.

I only thought I was overthinking it.

But slowly, that strange look appeared more and more often.

At the same time, I noticed that she would deliberately copy me. She copied my hairstyle.

Then she switched to a backpack similar to mine.

After that, it was her water bottle, her notebooks, even the order in which she did her homework.

I thought it was odd, but I did not take it seriously.

Best friends using matching things was normal, wasn’t it?

But one day, it was those same boys again.

While I went to the office to find a teacher, they cornered Vivienne again.

When I came out, I heard one of them say, “Without Elena, I would’ve ruined you a long time ago. You follow her around like a dog and actually think that makes you somebody?”

Rage shot straight to my head.

I rushed over and immediately shielded Vivienne behind me.

“Say one more word,” I snapped. “Go ahead. If you want to touch her, ask my fists for permission first.”

It only took a few moments before those boys ran off again.

I was about to turn around and ask Vivienne if she was hurt, but once again, I saw that look in her eyes, shimmering behind a wall of tears.

Then she shoved me away and ran.

I stood there completely confused and instinctively started after her.

But my homeroom teacher called me back, and I had no choice but to stop.