MIRABEL POV.
“This one or this one? Which do you think suits me more?” Ash asked dramatically, holding up two nearly identical button down shirts. One was navy, the other slate gray. To anyone with normal eyesight, they were the same. But not to Ash. No, Ash swore there was some mystical difference in texture, sheen, or whatever nonsense he had been spiraling about for the last hour. And guess what? I had bigger things to worry about than his existential wardrobe crisis.
“The blue one,” I muttered, barely glancing up. We had been at this for two hours, and if I had to endure one more outfit change, I would start seeing button-downs in my nightmares.
Ash rolled his eyes, saying, “Darling, please. The blue one won’t make my eyes pop. Ben needs to know his date has impeccable taste. Imagine me wearing something so… pedestrian!”
I flopped back on the bed; arms spread wide like I was auditioning for a tragic death scene. “Ugh, fine! Wear the gray one, then. Problem solved.”
Ash turned, hands on his hips, staring at me like I’d just suggested he go to prom in sweatpants. “Mira, this is an emergency. You are far too grumpy to be of any use right now. I need you to engage!”
“Your definition of ‘emergency’ is borderline offensive,” I grumbled. “This is a fashion crisis, not a life or death situation.”
Ash smirked, arching an eyebrow as he pointedly ignored me. “Don’t tell me you are still obsessing over what your good for nothing mate said about you.”
My cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment. “I can’t stop thinking about it. He thinks I’m weak and pathetic. I bet he and his friends laugh about it every night before bed.”
Ash turned to me slowly. “And why does this surprise you, hmm? He’s been bullying you since middle school, Mira. So I’m wondering why you are acting like it isn’t true. You are weak, remember.”
I gasped. “Excuse me? How dare you!” I grabbed a pillow and hurled it at him, but he dodged it and gave me a pointed look.
“Calm down, drama queen. Being weak isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” Ash said with a shrug.
I scoffed, sitting up. “Oh, really? When has being weak ever worked in my favor? If anything, it’s gotten me into more trouble than I can count. It’s a miracle I’m still breathing.”
Ash ignored my protests, tossing the blue shirt onto a nearby chair as he slipped into the gray one. “You are missing the point, darling. Weakness is your greatest weapon. Have you forgotten how it works?” He straightened the collar and checked himself out in the mirror.
“Works? For who?” I snapped, crossing my arms. “Because it sure as hell doesn’t work on the three most powerful Alphas in school. They know exactly how powerless I am.”
Ash turned back to me with a knowing look, one eyebrow raised. “Oh, honey, that’s where you are wrong. They think they have figured you all out, but when people underestimate you, they let their guard down. That’s when you strike.”
It sounded poetic, sure. But I wasn’t exactly in a position to take on three Alphas, no matter how much Ash hyped me up.
“Look, I have been thinking about how to get back at the triplets ever since they nearly killed my best friend—” Ash paused for dramatic effect, “—without getting us in trouble. Well, you are in trouble because I don’t go to that circus you call school.”
And here it was. Ash’s infamous elaborate plans. They always sounded foolproof until someone (usually me) ended up in a world of chaos. Let’s not forget the time I almost died, thanks to one of his genius ideas. Never again.
“No. Nope. Absolutely not.” I said, clamping my hands over my ears. “I’m not taking any more advice from you, Ash. End of discussion!”
Ash pouted like I had just kicked his designer puppy. “But you haven’t even heard me out, Mira!”
“I don’t need to,” I shot back, shaking my head so hard it was a miracle my brain stayed intact. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Stop being so childish!” he scolded, arms crossed.
I dropped my hands and glared at him. “Childish? Really? Says the guy who thought climbing onto the principal’s car to serenade his crush would be ‘harmless fun.’”
Ash waved a hand, dismissing me. “That’s ancient history, darling. Focus. This time, I have got an actual plan, and it’s brilliant.”
“Oh, brilliant,” I deadpanned. “Can’t wait to hear how you are going to outdo yourself this time.”
Ash grinned, the kind of grin that meant trouble. “It involves a janitor I may or may not have been… flinging with at the bar last weekend.”
I blinked. “Wait. What? Who’s the janitor? And how—”
He cut me off with a dramatic sigh. “Details, darling, details. That’s not the point. The point is that I will also reach out to one of my old flames to help execute the plan. You remember Daggin, don’t you?”
“Daggin?!” I exclaimed, leaning forward. “You mean the guy you swore you’d never speak to again after he—”
“—Yes, yes, I know what I said.” Ash waved me off again, a smirk playing on his lips. “But desperate times call for desperate measures. He’s still obsessed with me, which is perfect. He’ll help sabotage the triplets’ lockers, and oh, darling, it’ll be glorious. Imagine it: chaos, embarrassment, and an audience to witness it all.”
I raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “And why exactly would Daggin want to help me? He doesn’t even know me.”
Ash winked. “He won’t be doing it for you, Mira. He will be doing it for me. I will…. dangle the idea of us getting back together.”
I groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “You’re unbelievable.”
Ash wasn’t fazed. “Oh, and that’s not all. You, my dear, are going to have a pleasant surprise tomorrow at school.”
That got my attention. I sat up. “Surprise? What kind of surprise?”
Ash’s grin grew impossibly wider. “Something that will make the triplets so jealous they will choke on their egos.”
“Right.” I snorted. “They are not going to be jealous, Ash.”
“Oh, they will,” he said smugly, slipping his phone into his pocket.
“What’s the surprise?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.
Ash wagged his finger at me. “Ah, ah, ah. You will find out tomorrow, darling. Just show up, look stunning, and let me handle the rest. Consider it a belated gift from your fairy godmother.”
I stared at him, equal parts intrigued and terrified. This had disaster written all over it—but then again, if anyone could pull off this level of theatrics, it was Ash.