Brace Face Betty
Description
He started it. She's going to end it-with her name in his mouth. BETTY: I came to Riverside Prep invisible. I planned to stay that way. Then he looked at me. Touched me. Humiliated me. Now Marcus Mitchell won't stop circling. He thinks I'm soft. Quiet. Breakable. Let him try. MARCUS: She was supposed to stay in the background. One prank, one look, and now she's burned into my bloodstream. Betty Branson with the big glasses and the bigger attitude. She gets under my skin in all the wrong ways. And all I can think about is what it'd feel like to finally shut her up. With my mouth. With my hands. With everything I'm not supposed to want.
Chapter 1
Jun 5, 2025
Betty
I stood in the marble hallway of Riverside Prep University, clutching my phone like it was a lifeline. Everything around me screamed money—the crystal chandeliers overhead, the polished marble floors beneath my sneakers, the students gliding past in designer bags and flawless hair.
This was it. The moment I’d been dreaming about for years. But as I looked around, something heavy twisted in my stomach. I didn’t belong here.
Still, I forced a bright smile and tapped a record on my phone, trying to channel confidence. My braces gleamed under the lights.
“My first day at the best uni in the state! Just look at how stylish everyone is…”
I flipped the camera to show the hallway, capturing a sea of students who looked like they’d stepped out of a catalog. They moved like they owned the place. Honestly, they probably did.
Then I saw her—blonde hair perfect, arms outstretched like she was rushing to hug me. My heart jumped. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I could fit in here.
I opened my arms.
And she walked straight past me, bumping into me hard.
“Hey, watch it!” I yelped, trying to keep my balance.
My phone slipped from my hands and hit the floor with a loud clatter. I stared after her, stunned, as she threw her arms around someone behind me.
"Kate!" she squealed. "Perfect timing!"
Stacey.
Of course.
My stepsister. Queen of Riverside Prep. Queen of everything.
God, I wish she’d take me under her wing...
But when she turned to me with that polished, pageant-ready smile, I knew what was coming. That smile always meant trouble.
“Happy first day, sweetheart!” she chirped, pulling me into one of her fake, too-tight side hugs. “But if you really wanna fit in, you need to go through a small initiation first…”
Before I could even ask what she meant, she shoved my glasses up to my forehead and pulled something silky across my eyes.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered, her voice dripping with amusement. “It’s gonna be fun…”
I felt hands guiding me forward. My footsteps echoed differently now. We were moving. The chatter faded into hushed giggles and the sound of water.
A door creaked open. The air changed—humid, warm, tinged with chlorine.
“Here we are,” Stacey said sweetly. Then came the slam of the door.
“Girls…?” My voice sounded tiny.
Nothing. Just the drip of water and the low murmur of male voices.
Oh no.
I took a step, arms out, and my fingers grazed something solid, warm… and very much alive. A muscular chest. Abs. Bare skin.
I gasped, “Oh my god—” and pulled my hand back like I touched fire. Can I take the blindfold off now?”
Someone moved behind me. Then—hands. The blindfold was yanked off.
And in front of me, clear as day, stood a tall, completely naked guy with wet dark hair. And nothing else.
“What’s this? You're getting handsy now, sweetheart?” a voice called out. It wasn’t friendly.
Laughter erupted. Boys. I yanked the blindfold off.
Half-naked boys.
Lockers lined the walls. Steam curling in the air. Tiled floor. Sweat. Towels.
I froze.
One of them stood right in front of me. Shirtless. Tall. Broad. Dripping sweat down his neck like he just stepped out of a Gatorade commercial. His hair was messy in that on-purpose way, jawline sharp like he could cut someone with it. His eyes—icy blue—looked straight through me like I wasn’t even real.
Someone shouted, “Hey Vel, get her a chair—looks like she wants to stay awhile!”
Phones were out. Cameras flashing. Laughter exploding. Someone made moaning noises. One guy howled like a wolf.
My glasses fell, cracking against the tile.
“Aaaaaaah!!”
From outside the door, I heard Stacey and her friends howling with laughter.
“God,” Stacey sighed dramatically, “my favorite sound in the world—the sound of humiliation.”
***
I spun around, shielding my eyes. “Oh my god, this is awful!”
“Hey!” the guy said, sounding offended. “Watch your mouth! What exactly didn’t you like?!”
I dropped to my knees, frantically patting the floor for my glasses. Everything was a blur—just flesh-colored shapes and voices bouncing off the walls.
“Looking for these?”
Another voice. Teasing. When I squinted, I could make out someone holding up my glasses. He had a towel slung low on his hips and a cocky smirk that somehow came through even without my lenses.
“Who the hell are you?!” I snapped.
His eyebrows shot up, like I’d just committed a crime.
He turned to his friends. “Who am I?! Did you hear that, guys?”
Laughter exploded around me. All half-dressed. All grinning. All painfully attractive.
“Don’t you know who I am?”
Honestly, I didn’t care. I was done. Humiliated, half-blind, and done.
“Yeah, I think I’ve figured it out—you’re the kind of guy who only feels cool 'cause he's surrounded by idiots.”
Silence.
I blinked. The room went still. His friends stopped laughing.
“Dude, Marcus,” someone whispered, “she just—”
“I heard what she said,” he growled.
His jaw twitched, eyes darkening as he stepped closer.
“You shouldn’t have said that, braceface.”
Brace Face Betty
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