After Reading My Boyfriend’s Mind, I Dumped Him for Good Chapter 02
My hand froze midair.
I looked up at Atticus.
He was handsome—the cold, magnetic kind of handsome.
His personality was even colder than his face. He barely said a word half the time.
But I knew the truth—he was just repressed.
Whenever I kissed him, hugged him, or clung to him, he’d frown—but his ears would flush red and his heart would pound like crazy.
I’d always believed that was what liking someone looked like.
Atticus was such a fraud. Deep down, I was sure he was crazy about me.
But after hearing three separate thoughts filled with disdain and rejection, my heart still shattered.
I grabbed Jake Mitchell’s notebook instead and forced a smile.
“It’s okay. I already borrowed one.”
Atticus frowned at me, looking genuinely confused.
His grades were top-tier. He never needed to take notes for himself.
Me? I was a mess in half my subjects. So he started taking them for me.
Every time he handed them over, I would throw myself into his arms and shower him with praise.
“Who’s got a boyfriend this sweet and hardworking?”
Every single time, the tips of Atticus’s ears would turn red.
He would press his lips together and refuse to answer.
Then I would imitate his voice and answer for him. “Cecilia’s boyfriend.”
Back then, I actually thought that was sweet.
Now I knew the truth.
Every time he handed me those notes, he’d been thinking one thing—so stupid.
My fingertips turned pale.
Atticus stood rigidly in front of me. Neither of us spoke.
He gripped his notebook stubbornly, knuckles bone-white.
I clutched my desk mate’s notebook and silently faced off against him.
My classmate Jake glanced over and adjusted his glasses.
“Your boyfriend’s way smarter than me. You should just…”
Not wanting to hear “She’s so stupid” ever again, I cut him off. “I’ll borrow yours.”
Then I turned back to Atticus. “Class’s about to start. You should go.”
“I’ve got notes now. You don’t need to do that for me anymore.”
The moment those words left my mouth, I saw something darken in Atticus’s eyes.
He pressed his lips together. Then he set the notebook down, turned around, and walked out of the classroom.
“Did you two fight?” Jake leaned closer, grinning mischievously.
I wanted to laugh, but I couldn’t.
Given Atticus’s personality? Getting him into a fight would take a miracle.
“Do you think Atticus likes me?”
I turned to ask him.
Something flickered in his eyes.
“The girls in our class all say it looks like he doesn’t even like you. That you’re the one doing all the chasing.”
I’d heard that stuff for over a year. I’d never let it get to me.
Because in the moments no one else saw, Atticus had treated me well.
So well that I convinced myself he simply didn’t know how to express his feelings.
So well that I truly believed he liked me.
But now, staring at the notebook resting beside me, I wasn’t so sure anymore.
That afternoon, I was assigned classroom cleanup duty after school.
I was in a lousy mood and dragged my feet.
After what felt like an eternity, I’d only managed to sweep a third of the floor.
By the time Atticus appeared at the classroom door, everyone else had already left.
Without a word, he walked over and took the broom from my hands.
[God, she’s slow.]
The thought came through clearly. That same blunt, dismissive tone. Again.
My temper flared instantly.
I reached for the broom. “I can do it myself.”
He straightened up and frowned at me.
The moment I saw the irritation in his eyes, the heaviness in my chest only grew worse.
“Cecilia.” His voice was low. “Why are you upset today?”
[God, she’s so annoying.]
I stared at his handsome face and took a deep breath.
I didn’t answer.
I just asked the question that had been eating at me all day.
“Atticus, do you hate me?”
