The Kiss

REINA

Hard.

The first week at Gravemont felt like drowning with my eyes open. Every day started with me pretending I was fine and ended with me staring at my test papers covered in enough red ink to qualify as a crime scene.

It was like the teachers had a personal vendetta against my brain. Gravemont’s coursework was brutal, the kind that made smart people cry and geniuses doubt themselves.

I was two years out of practice, but that wasn’t an excuse anyone here cared about. I went from “I’ll prove myself” to “maybe I’m just stupid” in five days flat.

By the second morning, my dorm still looked half-lived in. My boxes sat in one corner like ghosts of my old life, untouched.

I woke up early anyway, eager to start my new life. I told myself I’d show everyone, that I didn’t need Julian freaking Carter or his bored blue eyes to survive Gravemont Academy.

I pulled on my uniform, a little wrinkled, not perfectly tailored like everyone else’s, and grabbed my books. The hallway outside was filled with students. It was loud. Really really loud.

Gravemont felt like a movie set where everyone got the script but me. Everyone knew where to walk, what to say, how to shine. I was the extra who stumbled into the wrong scene.

The first class was History, which should’ve been easy. I liked history. But this wasn’t just history; this was “Gravemont Elite Legacy of Dynasties.”

The walls were covered in portraits of dead rich people with the same smug eyes as their living descendants. The teacher, Mr. Harland, was dramatic in that theatrical, loves-the-sound-of-his-own-voice kind of way. He wore tweed and spoke like he was auditioning for a movie role no one asked for.

“Good morning, my little prodigies!” he boomed. “Today, we explore the roots of royalty in European monarchies!”

I barely sat down before realizing every student in that room looked perfect. Glossy hair, glowing skin, designer pens. Julian Carter sat in the back, half-asleep, his long legs sprawled out, shirt unbuttoned at the top like he couldn’t care less. He caught my eye just long enough for me to look away first.

“Ah, new face!” Mr. Harland suddenly declared, pointing at me with the enthusiasm of a magician revealing a rabbit. “You must be Miss Moore! Why don’t you stand and introduce yourself to the class?”

My stomach dropped. “Um—”

“Stand, dear, we don’t bite.” Except they did. Just not with teeth.

I pushed my chair back and stood, gripping my notebook. I suddenly felt everyone’s eyes pinning me like I was some new species. “Hi, I’m Reina Moore. I—uh—I just transferred here.”

Instant whispers.

“Transferred from where?” a girl asked, “St. Benedict’s,” I said.

“Oh,” another girl said, dragging the word like it was diseased. “That’s… that public school in the city, right?”

I had actually transfered from Have stone high but that's not what it says in Reina Moore's file. “Yeah.”

A boy near the window snorted. “So you’re like, one of those scholarship charity cases? That’s so cute.” The class laughed. I could literally hear my blood rushing in my ears.

“Ok you wanna–” Ivy was about to jump in but I beat her to it.  “Yeah, and I’m guessing you’re one of those charity brain cases. Guess we’re even.” I said smiling sweetly at the boy.

The room went silent, even the professor didn't expect me to stand up for myself. But I had to. If ivy kept defending me then everyone would think I'm easy bully.

Then, out of nowhere, Ivy let out a loud, delighted laugh. “Oh my god, I love her.”

The rest of the class? They didn’t love me. But they shut up.

Mr. Harland cleared his throat, clearly not sure what just happened. “Alright, Miss Moore, take your seat. Let’s focus, shall we?”

I did feeling victorious.

Temporarily victorious because by the end of the week, my grades were trash.

Math? 43%. Literature? 51%. Chemistry? Let’s not talk about it. Even history betrayed me. Ironic, considering how much I’d always liked it.

I spent nights hunched over my desk until my back ached, rewriting notes that didn’t make sense, trying to decode Gravemont’s elite academic language.

The worst part? Everyone noticed. “Maybe she lied on her application.”

“I heard her essay was written by an agency.”

“Do they even let people like her graduate?”

“How did such a dummy get in on a scholarship?”

“System glitch?”

Ivy didn’t let them get away with it. She stood up for me every single time, her temper like a loaded gun. She once grabbed a girl by her collar for saying I looked like I shopped at thrift stores.

“Apologize,” Ivy said, deadly calm. The girl stammered something that sounded like “sorry” and ran off crying. Ivy just shrugged. “Don’t mess with my people.”

By the time lunch came, I felt like a bruised ego wrapped in a uniform. Ivy waved me over the second I entered the cafeteria, shouting, “Reina, over here!” Her table looked like a Vogue spread.

“Sit, babe,” Ivy said, sliding over and handing me a drink. “Ignore the jealous ones. They hate you because you’re not kissing anyone’s shoes.”

I smiled weakly. “Or maybe because I keep failing everything.”

“Grades are overrated,” she said with a wink. “Look at me. I once failed French and now the teacher tutors me privately because she loves me.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but then the cafeteria door opened and the air changed.

Adrian Vale walked in.

You could practically hear the collective sigh from every girl within a twenty-foot radius. He moved like some sort of king which he actually was. His dark uniform fit like it was made for him alone, and his expression was that same disinterested, deadly calm that made people nervous and fascinated at the same time. He walked in with his group of friends, each one looking like they were auditioning for an expensive perfume ad.

“That’s them, isn't it?” I whispered to Ivy. “The House of M?”

She nodded. “Yep. The school’s unofficial government.”

I frowned as I glanced toward their table. They were already seated. And then, somehow, his eyes found mine.

For one unbearable second, everything stopped. His stare wasn’t curious or cruel, it was heavy, unreadable, like he saw through every layer I was hiding behind. Like something in him sees too much of me and I have no idea if I liked it or not.

I looked away first, pretending to check my tray. My appetite was gone.

Julian Carter slid into the seat beside Adrian, smiling at something one of the guys said. Of course. Of course, he’d be one of them. The same boy who refused to tutor me, who looked down at me like I was a waste of air, now lounging with the elite. Spoiled. Rich. Heartless.

“I think I’ll go,” I told Ivy, standing abruptly.

“Reina, wait—”

“I just need to check my schedule.”

I didn’t. I just needed air.

By evening, the courtyard was quiet. Most students lived off-campus, so it was almost empty.

There was sunlight spilling over the marble fountains. I found myself pacing, muttering formulas and equations, trying to calm down. No matter how hard I studied, it didn’t stick. I’d never failed before, not until now.

“Maybe I’m just not smart enough for this place,” I whispered. “God, I hate this stupid school.”

I kicked at a pebble, frustrated tears threatening to spill. What if they revoke my scholarship? What if I have to go back home a failure? I imagined Mom’s face, her tired smile, her faith in me. It made me physically sick.

I dropped onto the fountain’s edge, burying my face in my hands. “I can’t keep doing this,” I whispered. “I can’t—”

Footsteps.

I looked up just in time to see a group of men in black running across the courtyard, heading toward the far building. They looked like macho bodyguards, definitely not teachers or even campus security.

“What the hell…” I murmured, standing up.

Before I could process anything, a hand grabbed my arm and yanked me hard against the wall. I gasped, ready to scream, but another hand pressed over my mouth.

Adrian Vale?

His body was inches from mine and his eyes were locked on me with that same unreadable intensity. His finger lifted to his lips, signaling me to stay silent.

I obeyed even though my heart went feral, pounding like it wanted out of my chest. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the scent of his cologne. It was unfairly intoxicating.

The men’s footsteps got louder, closer. Adrian glanced toward the direction they were coming from, his jaw tightening.

Then, without warning, he slipped off his jacket and tossed it hard toward the opposite corner. It landed with a faint thud. The men turned immediately, heading in that direction.

And then, before I could ask what was happening, I felt his lips press against mine.

My brain short-circuited.

His mouth was on mine, tasting my lips like it was the most natural thing in the world. My back hit the wall and my hands froze midair. I couldn't even breathe. All I could think was...

Adrian Vale is kissing me.