Aww Seven Exes Begged Cute Blocked novel Chapter 9

**A Promise Written on the Rusted Edge of Time by Dael Rowan Sire**

The following day dawned with a heavy cloud hanging over me, an oppressive weight that seemed to thicken the air around my chest. “The Leech” had become a viral sensation, a cruel whisper that slithered through the halls of our school, infecting every ear it touched.

It started innocently enough, just a few snickers in my classroom. But like wildfire, the rumor spread, engulfing the entire sophomore year, then leaping into the minds of every student in the building.

“Look, there’s that leech girl,” someone sneered, their voice dripping with disdain.

“So pathetic, won’t leave the poor guy alone,” another added, laughter punctuating their words.

“Heard she’s been like this since they were kids. Gross,” a third voice chimed in, and I could almost feel the venom in their tone.

I felt like a ghost, invisible yet painfully aware of how everyone regarded me. I longed to confront Dylan, to demand answers that clawed at my insides. Did he really say all those awful things? How could he betray me like this? What did eighteen years of friendship mean to him when he could so easily allow my reputation to be dismantled?

But every time I approached him, a paralyzing fear gripped me. What if he confessed? How could I even begin to process that betrayal? And if he denied it, could I trust his words? Madison had sounded so convincing, her details sharp and clear, like daggers aimed directly at my heart.

Dylan’s demeanor around her had shifted, a palpable tension in the air whenever they were together. It was as if a curtain had fallen between us, and I was left on the wrong side, watching helplessly as he slipped away.

The most excruciating part of all this was the realization that I could no longer trust him. The boy who once stood by me, fighting my battles, had morphed into the very source of my pain. The one who had vowed to protect me had now tossed me into a pit of despair, leaving me to fend for myself.

Trust, I mused bitterly, is like glass—once it shatters, the pieces cut deeper than any knife ever could.

The online harassment escalated, morphing into a relentless storm. A group chat materialized, dedicated solely to my humiliation. They’d dubbed it “Get The Leech Out of Riverside High,” and each day was a new barrage of insults and mockery.

“Leech spotting: cafeteria bloodsucking session,” they’d post, accompanied by humiliating photos that made my stomach churn.

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