I Cured My Brother's Love Brain

My brother, Ethan Hayes, was born a total romantic.

But even more so, he was the ultimate doting big brother, loving me, his sister Chloe, more than any woman.

On my first day of kindergarten, I got into major trouble.

Ethan immediately ditched his girlfriend, who was threatening to jump from somewhere, and rushed to school to clean up my mess.

After that, Ethan was constantly busy solving my problems, leaving him no time for dating.

Until one day, I got into a fight with a classmate, and our parents were called in.

Ethan arrived, looking furious, but then froze when he saw the other parent.

It was Eleanor Mitchell, his unattainable first love.

I kept my head down, not daring to speak, terrified that their old flame would spark again.

Eleanor elegantly ran a hand through her hair, speaking in a condescending tone: "It's just two kids fighting, and I don't think she's too hurt. Considering our history, if Chloe apologizes, we can let it go."

The next second, Ethan's face darkened. "Are you crazy? Who do you think you are, to even mention my sister in the same breath?"

The new transfer student introduced herself at the podium. Her voice was timid: "Hi everyone, my name is Daisy Mitchell. I hope you'll like me."

The moment I saw her, alarm bells went off.

When Ethan was younger, he was completely obsessed with a woman named Eleanor Mitchell. She'd threaten to jump from a building in the middle of the night during a breakup, and Ethan would spend all night on the rooftop with her. Turns out, she was just trying to make the guy she secretly liked jealous. That guy was an animal lover, so she suddenly wanted a cat. Ethan specifically found a gentle kitten and gave it to her. The moment she found out she was pregnant, she heartlessly abandoned the cat. Ethan brought it home, and it's still living with us.

Until I started kindergarten, I was constantly getting into trouble C small incidents every other day, major ones every third. Fighting and messing up the house became commonplace, and parents across the entire school united to complain. Ethan had to pull himself away from Eleanor and spent every day dealing with my messes.

I'd seen Eleanor's photo on Ethan's phone, so the first time I saw the transfer student, I knew something was wrong. Especially when I heard her name was Daisy Mitchell, despair clenched my heart. Eleanor Mitchell's daughter was named Daisy Mitchell.

The homeroom teacher scanned the room, then looked at me: "Chloe Hayes, Daisy Mitchell, you can sit next to her for now."

I immediately stood up, stubbornly refusing: "Teacher, I'm usually too rowdy. It wouldn't be good if I led the new student astray. You should pick someone else."

But the teacher, a bit impatient, waved her hand: "Just sit there for now; we'll change seats in a couple of days."

Daisy walked over and sat down. I shuffled further away.

"Slam!"

"Clatter!"

She took things out of her backpack and threw them onto the desk with loud thuds. I thought, How bizarre. Is this person crazy or something? I moved further away, not wanting to catch her bad mood.

The next second, she suddenly slammed her backpack down, buried her face in the desk, and started crying.

A classmate behind me whispered: "Hey, Chloe, did you bully the new kid?"

I was stunned, still processing what was happening. Daisy suddenly lifted her head, her eyes red, glaring at me and demanding: "Do you hate me? Do you look down on me?!"

I blinked: "Huh?"

Daisy's voice grew louder, shrill: "You do look down on me! You humiliated me in front of the whole class. How dare you treat me like this?"

I frowned: "I said my personality was difficult and I didn't want to affect you. Is that wrong?" If I can't fight her, I can sure avoid her, right?

Daisy cried and accused: "It's my first day, and I made a mistake writing just now. You clearly saw I didn't have an eraser, but you deliberately didn't lend me one. You just wanted to see me embarrassed!"

"And you intentionally rolled up your sleeve so I'd see that diamond bracelet on your wrist! Weren't you just showing off?"

"So what if your name is Chloe Hayes? Does that make you better than me?!"

I was utterly shocked. When did I see she didn't have an eraser? I hadn't even looked at her! And my bracelet? It's on my wrist, I can wear it how I want. What's it to her? As for her name, if she hates it, she should ask her mom to change it! What's it to me?

Her string of accusations instantly reminded me of her mother, Eleanor Mitchell. Back then, Ethan took her to a fancy restaurant, and she claimed he was deliberately using money to humiliate her humble background. Ethan missed her call because he was working late, so she sent dozens of texts, accusing him of cheating, then blocked him. She only forgave him after he stood in the rain outside her house all night. These two, mother and daughter, were sensitive in exactly the same way.

My anger shot straight to my head, and I rolled my eyes. "You're crazy!"

Daisy froze, startled by my outburst, her shoulders shaking, crying so hard she gasped for air between sobs. It made me look like I'd just publicly bullied her.

The other students couldn't help but start whispering.

"Isn't the new student a bit sensitive? She cried just because no one offered her an eraser?"

"Chloe can be hot-headed, sure... but what does that have to do with her name?"

"And Chloe's always worn that bracelet. I never even noticed if it was diamonds..."

Daisy's crying grew louder. The class monitor, seeing she couldn't handle it, ran to the office to get the teacher.

The homeroom teacher rushed in, looking at Daisy, who was on the verge of collapsing from crying, then at me, sitting there defiantly. She slapped the desk, pointing at me and yelling: "Chloe Hayes! Can't you just be quiet for one day?"

I was fuming, about to open my mouth to explain: "Teacher, it was her..."

"Shut up!" The teacher completely ignored me. "Everyone in this grade knows your temper! You're always causing trouble at school!" "Apologize to Daisy Mitchell right now!"

I didn't move. Why should I apologize to her?

The teacher snapped: "You won't apologize, huh?" "I can't deal with you. I'm calling your parents right now!"

Before, I wouldn't have cared about calling my parents. Ethan was a regular at school; he was used to it, and so was I. But not now. I looked at Daisy's face, so similar to Eleanor's, and felt a surge of unease. What if Ethan saw her and remembered Eleanor again?

I took a deep breath, swallowing my anger. I lowered my head and gritted out: "I'm sorry."

...

Seething with anger, the moment the dismissal bell rang, I bolted out of the classroom. I sprinted out the school gates and dove into the passenger seat of Ethan's car.

Ethan jumped, nearly dropping his cigarette: "Chloe Hayes, is there a ghost chasing you?"

"Drive! Drive now!" I urged frantically.

Ethan looked bewildered: "What happened? Did you beat up another kid? Or did a dog chase you?"

I was desperate: "Just drive, don't ask so many questions!"

Ethan frowned, still wanting to ask: "Chloe Hayes, tell me honestly..."

But I didn't answer, pretending to grab the steering wheel. Ethan, exasperated by my urging, stomped on the gas and started the car.

Only after the car pulled away did I see Daisy just stepping out of the school gate. That was close. Ethan almost saw her.

Ethan steered with one hand: "Alright, tell me. What kind of trouble did you get into at school today?"

I guiltily looked out the window: "Can't I just want to go home early and do my homework?"

"You? Do homework? You'd rather the sky fall than do your homework." Ethan ruffled my hair, his tone tinged with helplessness: "Chloe Hayes, when are you going to give me a break?"

Back home, I was uncharacteristically quiet, neither teasing the cat nor messing up the house. Ethan was playing games on the sofa, and I pretended to reach for the remote, craning my neck to peek at his screen.

Ethan noticed, flipped his phone face down, and raised an eyebrow at me: "What is it? If you need money, just say so."

I acted nonchalant: "Just checking what you're up to."

"Busy saving up for your bail." He retorted dryly.

I walked behind the sofa, continuing my probing: "Ethan, do you have anyone you like right now?" Of course, I didn't dare ask him directly if he still remembered Eleanor. What if he'd almost forgotten, and my question just made him think of her again?

Ethan paused, then lightly flicked my head. "I'm too busy bailing you out; where would I find the time for anyone else?"

I breathed a sigh of relief. As long as I kept them strictly apart, Ethan wouldn't revert to his old self, right?

The next day, I made up my mind to stay far away from Daisy Mitchell. But she wouldn't quit.

After class, Daisy went to the water cooler for a drink. When she came back, her foot suddenly slipped. A cup of water spilled all over me. The water drenched my hair and clothes, and the books on my desk were wet too. Luckily, the school water cooler only had lukewarm water, so I wasn't scalded.

My anger shot straight to my head, and I kicked my chair back. "Are you blind?!"

Daisy shrank her shoulders, looking innocent: "I just did it by accident. Why are you so mean... I know you've always had it in for me, but I really didn't mean it."

I laughed in exasperation: "Not on purpose? Fine. Then I'll throw you into the fountain downstairs and say I didn't mean it. How about that?"

Daisy froze, then squatted down and started crying: "It's my fault, I shouldn't have bumped into you. I'm new, I don't know the rules, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

The girl in the front seat tugged my sleeve. "Chloe, just let it go. She apologized, and she's new."

"Yeah, look how she's crying. She probably didn't mean it."

I clenched my fists, furious. I was the one who got soaked, but now I was being called aggressive. I've always had a short fuse; in the past, I would have slapped her already. But now, thinking about the consequences of calling parents, I bit down hard and held back. I could only kick my desk, grit my teeth, and go back to my seat to dry my clothes.

I thought if I just put up with it, things would be fine once we changed seats. But in the afternoon, the homeroom teacher walked into the classroom with a grim face. Behind her, wiping away tears, was Daisy Mitchell. The teacher's voice was icy: "Chloe Hayes, stand up."

I was completely baffled. If Daisy was complaining about the water incident, my clothes were still wet. How could she possibly be in the right?

But the teacher slammed her hand on the podium and demanded: "Daisy Mitchell's tuition money is missing. Have you seen it?"

I sneered: "Her money's missing? Why are you asking me?"

Daisy hid behind the teacher, looking as if she was afraid of me. "Teacher, I didn't say she took it. I just said I put it in my backpack, and only my deskmate could have seen it..." She timidly glanced at me, then quickly lowered her head.

I exploded on the spot: "What do you mean by that? I haven't even looked in your backpack!"

Daisy put on a pitiful act, crying and trembling: "I really didn't say you took it. Why are you so upset?... That's money my mom saved up for ages. Chloe Hayes, please, give it back to me."

The atmosphere around us completely changed.

"Chloe Hayes is always fighting. I didn't expect her to be a thief too."

"No wonder Daisy just spilled a little water, and Chloe looked like she wanted to kill someone. Was she feeling guilty?"

"It can't be, her family is pretty rich, right?"

"Who knows? Maybe she just wanted to mess with someone."

I looked speechless: "My family needs your money? If I stole your money, are you crazy or am I?"

The teacher roared: "Chloe Hayes! Fix your attitude!"

Daisy cried even harder, still complaining. "Teacher, look at her. She's been targeting me since the first day. Even now, in front of you, she dares to insult people..."

A girl next to us also spoke up: "Exactly. I saw it with my own eyes just now, Chloe Hayes's expression was terrifying, like she was about to hit someone. Everyone knows Chloe Hayes has a bad temper, deliberately bullying new students."

I was shaking with rage: "That's bull! You were the one who deliberately bumped me and spilled water!"

But the teacher's suspicion grew, filled with disappointment. My reputation was so bad, no one believed me.

I stared at Daisy, gritting my teeth and asking: "You say you brought tuition money, who saw you bring it?" "Are you just broke and trying to scam people at school for tuition?"

Daisy was utterly humiliated by that comment, crying so hard she almost passed out. "You stole my money and then accused me of scamming! Are you trying to drive me to my death?!"

The teacher looked at one girl crying hysterically and another seething with hostility. Our school's tuition wasn't a small amount. She frowned: "This amount is too large; I can't handle it. Call your parents."

My heart sank. Daisy Mitchell's parent, that would be Eleanor Mitchell, wouldn't it? If Ethan came to school, he'd run right into Eleanor. I pursed my lips, so annoyed.

I said bluntly: "Teacher, no need to call my parents. I'll pay for the money."

The teacher was stunned. "Chloe Hayes, do you know how much our school tuition is?"

I said impatiently: "Isn't it just a few tens of thousands of dollars?" "I'll give her my allowance. Let's just drop this." But I immediately added: "I can cover the money, but I didn't steal it." This was my bottom line. I was willing to pay to end the trouble, but I wouldn't admit to stealing.

The teacher frowned, seemingly weighing her options. If I was willing to pay, it would save her trouble. But Daisy wasn't having it; she shrieked. "Teacher! Look, she's feeling guilty. If she didn't steal it, why is she so eager to pay it back?" "And this is a matter of character! If there's a thief in the class, today she steals my tuition, tomorrow will she steal more things?"

She cried and called her mom.

Not long after, Eleanor Mitchell arrived. She listened to the teacher's brief explanation, then turned and grabbed Daisy's ear, cursing: "You brat! You couldn't even keep track of your tuition money! Don't you know how long it took me to save that money? How many times have I told you to keep money on you? Do you have a brain?"

I stood there, stunned. This was the woman Ethan had loved to death back then? The first thought that came to my mind was disappointment. Her? What was Ethan's taste back then?

Daisy covered her ear, pointing at me: "It was her, she stole it!"

Eleanor turned to look at me, sizing me up. When she saw the designer labels on my clothes, her eyes changed. She looked down at me. "So you're the one who stole the money?" "Where are your parents? Teaching their child to be a thieving brat?"

I suppressed my anger: "I told you I didn't steal the money." "But if you need this money for tuition, I can pay for it upfront."

My words struck Eleanor Mitchell's sensitive and fragile nerve. Eleanor exploded on the spot. "You didn't steal it? If you didn't steal it, why are you paying it back? Aren't you just guilty?" "You're a thief! So young and already learning to steal things!" Finally, she sneered, stating definitively: "It must be you who stole it; maybe the money is in your backpack right now!"

With that, she snatched my backpack, spilling all its contents onto the floor with a clatter. I clenched my fists, watching my belongings get scattered, and held back. She turned it inside out, finding nothing, of course.

Eleanor wouldn't give up, narrowing her eyes at me: "You've hidden it on you, haven't you?"

I stepped back: "I told you, no."

She walked closer to me, disdainfully: "It's on you, you're just afraid I'll find it, aren't you?" What a joke! Of course, I wouldn't agree! But her hand shot out, grabbing my collar, her mouth spewing obscenities. "If you don't take it off, you're guilty! You little brat, hurry up!"

Her rough nails scraped my neck, burning. I'd never been so humiliated in my life. My temper instantly flared. To hell with old flames, to hell with enduring this. I lifted my foot and kicked her hard in the stomach.

"Get lost! You crazy hag!"

Eleanor looked utterly disbelieving. I fought back, scratching her. "Ah!" she cried out in pain, raising her hand and slapping me hard across the face. "You little brat! You dare hit back?"

Suddenly, hurried footsteps came from outside the classroom. I turned and saw Ethan Hayes, his face grim. I covered my face, saying nothing, feeling deeply guilty. Ethan had still come. He had still seen Eleanor.

And Eleanor, who was still grabbing my neck, suddenly released me. She instinctively ran a hand through her hair, flashing a shy smile.

Ethan strode in. He radiated an oppressive aura, with several men in black suits following behind him. Eleanor's eyes lit up when she saw Ethan. She dropped her shrewish demeanor, acting as if she were weak and helpless. Her voice was sweet and delicate: "Ethan..."