02

"You're late again," Adhaya whined the moment I walked into the classroom. I lazily slouched into the seat beside her and put my earphones in.

"Hey, talk to me!" she added, nudging my arm.

I rolled my eyes before pulling one earphone out. "What?"

"After leaving me high and dry yesterday, that's all you have to say?" She glared at me, pouting.

I shook my head softly. "Alright, I'm sorry," I gave in.

She giggled and rested her chin on her hand. "You're buying me lunch later."

I rolled my eyes again, but nodded anyway. "Fine."

"Did you get home safe yesterday?"

I nodded. "Ran into a little hitch, but it was fine. I made it back."

"Too bad you didn't stay. You missed all the drama," she said, leaning in.

I shrugged listlessly. "Like I care."

"I know you don't care. It's just... for a second, I thought you were involved."

My brows arched slightly. "What do you mean?"

"The fight happened right near the route you took to sneak out. I thought you were part of the brawl," she explained.

Oh. Is she talking about those two guys from yesterday?

Come to think of it, they did look like they were at each other's throats.

I shrugged before putting my earphone back in, resting my chin on my palm as I watched the students outside through the window. Luckily, no one had taken this seat before I got here.

I glared at Adhaya when she yanked my earphone out again. "What now?"

"I haven't introduced you to our classmates yet!"

She stood up and dragged me up by my arm. I let out a heavy sigh before giving in. She pulled me all the way to the front of the room.

"Guys, listen up!" she called out. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked over at us, confused.

Adhaya was actually pretty popular around here. She was the Student Council Vice President—a fact I only discovered yesterday after checking the school website. I was used to that side of her, though. Adhaya was never one to brag about her achievements; she always kept things low-key.

"This is our new classmate—and my best friend. So please, treat her well. Otherwise, you'll have to answer to me. Got it?"

My eyebrows furrowed. What's her problem? Why is she being so intense all of a sudden?

Our classmates looked just as surprised by her serious tone. Adhaya was usually sweet to a fault—most people assumed she was an absolute angel. But they didn't know the full story. She had a mischievous, ruthless side hidden underneath it all.

I knew her better than anyone. She was my best friend, after all.

"Introduce yourself, Dri," she instructed.

I nodded at her, then turned to face the class. "Good morning. I'm Andriette Flynn. I transferred from Erres High, an all-girls prep school. I'm seventeen," I said briefly.

The class offered a polite round of applause, which I acknowledged with a simple nod.

"Nothing else to add, beautiful?" a guy sitting in the back row called out. From his piercings to his arrogant smirk, I immediately knew exactly what type of guy he was.

He reminded me of that guy from yesterday—the same insufferable energy, though yesterday's guy was at least a bit more decent.

"Like what?" I asked flatly.

"Like your phone number," he replied smoothly.

I exhaled sharply. Ugh, guys. Why hadn't I gotten used to this yet?

"Sorry, I don't give my number to strangers."

A few classmates burst out laughing. Taken aback, the guy sat up straighter and cleared his throat, trying to play it off. Ugh, so full of himself.

"I'm Andre. There, now I'm not a stranger. What's that number, Miss?" he asked with a playful grin.

I glanced over at Adhaya and raised an eyebrow. Catching my drift immediately, she stepped in.

"Andre," she warned, her voice dropping an octave.

The guy named Andre pouted before flashing me a wink. I completely ignored him. "Can I sit down now?" I asked Adhaya.

She sighed and nodded. I immediately walked back to my spot and slouched into my chair. Just as I had done earlier, I put my earphones back in, cranking up the volume to drown out the noise of my new classmates.

Adjusting to this place was going to be a nightmare. Back at Erres, the worst you had to deal with was petty gossip—something I could easily ignore. But here? Guys were running around, shouting, and throwing crumpled paper across the room like literal toddlers.

I rolled my eyes again when Adhaya nudged my arm. I shot her a questioning look, and she gestured for me to take my earphones out.

"What is it?" I muttered, annoyed.

She didn't answer. Instead, she sat up straight and faced the front. Automatically, my eyes followed hers. My head tilted as I recognized a familiar face walking up to my desk.

It was the guy from yesterday. The one named Claude.

"I want that spot," he said coldly.

I glanced behind me, assuming he was talking to someone else, but the space behind me was completely empty.

"Yes, you," he clarified when I pointed a finger at myself.

I pulled out my earphones when the music suddenly swelled, drowning out whatever he said next.

"What?" I played dumb.

"Didn't you hear me? I want that spot," he repeated.

I leaned back in my chair and crossed my legs. "And? I was here first. There are plenty of other empty chairs," I said, pointing toward a desk on the far side of the room. "You can clearly see it's occupied, yet you're pushing for it anyway."

I couldn't help rolling my eyes. And here I thought we were on decent terms yesterday because he let me escape. Guess I was wrong.

"I repeat: I want that spot. I've sat in this exact place every single year." He adjusted the rim of his glasses before staring at me with dead seriousness.

God, he was so immature.

"I don't care if you've sat here every year since kindergarten. I got here first, so it's mine today," I insisted, crossing my arms with a smirk.

"Are you moving, or am I going to have to make you move?" he threatened softly.

I flashed a fake, overly sweet smile. Oh, this guy really thinks he's something, doesn't he? He looked like a quiet nerd, but he had a terrible attitude.

I shook my head and stood up. "Fine. Here's your... spot," I said, grabbing my chair and pulling it away with me.

He wanted the "spot" so badly? Great. He could enjoy standing in it.

I placed my chair directly behind him and sat down with a heavy sigh. Damn it. Now I wasn't even next to the window anymore. What a buzzkill.

"Any problem? You wanted that spot, right? It's all yours," I remarked sarcastically.

He threw me a sharp glare before walking over to the desk I had pointed at earlier, dragging it over to the spot.

Serves him right.

He slammed his chair down in front of me and glared back over his shoulder one last time. I shrugged and offered another fake smile. When I glanced at Adhaya, she was giving me a stern look, too.

Fine, make me the villain. Like I care. Is his little grudge supposed to keep me up at night?

A few minutes later, our homeroom teacher walked in, and I straightened up in my seat. As much as I loved causing trouble, I wasn't looking to get on a teacher's bad side on the very first day. Tomorrow, maybe. Just kidding.

The corner of my mouth twitched upward the second I saw her face. Is this a joke?

I glanced at the guy sitting in front of me. He seemed to freeze solid in his seat, too.

"Good morning, class," she greeted smoothly.

She skipped the introductions and sat down at her desk. Naturally, she already knew everyone in the class—except me.

She looked young—mid-twenties at most. If she weren't wearing a teacher's blazer, you could easily mistake her for a student. Her fitted, short skirt highlighted her figure, and her hair was pulled back into a slick bun, giving her sharp features an even sleeker look.

I had to admit, she was pretty. No wonder a student was so hopelessly head over heels for her.

"Good to see you all again," she said with a warm smile, though I caught the subtle, split-second eye contact she made with the guy sitting right in front of me.

"Do we have any transfer students?" she asked casually.

I lazily raised my hand. Her eyes landed on me, and I watched her expression completely freeze as her body went rigid. I let out a dark, quiet smile.

She remembers me. How lovely.

Clearing her throat, she tried to regain her composure. "May I see your student record?"

I looked around at my classmates, who were watching attentively. Hesitating for just a moment, I walked up to the front and handed her my file.

She opened the folder and scanned the first page.

"Andriette Flynn," she read aloud. "No middle name?"

"I use my mother's surname, ma'am."

She nodded. I let out a quiet breath and crossed my arms, waiting to see if she was actually going to let me sit back down.

"So, you transferred from an all-girls prep school? Very nice," she commented. I didn't bother responding, keeping my eyes fixed on the floor.

"A black belt in taekwondo? That's impressive. You went to a strict all-girls academy, yet you pick up martial arts?"

I couldn't help a faint smile from breaking through. My mother had enrolled me in taekwondo when I was five. Thanks to her, I knew exactly how to put bullies in their place growing up.

"And your grades are quite solid. High enough to easily qualify for our academic track. Good," she continued.

I really hope she doesn't read to the end of that file.

"But tell me, Miss Flynn..." She paused, flipping to the back page before looking up at me. "Why were you expelled?"

The room went dead silent as everyone waited for an explanation.

"Oh, here are the disciplinary notes!" she exclaimed, her voice dripping with artificial surprise.

"First: skipping class fifty-three times. Does your old school usually tolerate that?" she asked. I rolled my eyes internally.

"Second: setting off the fire alarm three separate times. Seriously, Miss Flynn?"

A small smile tugged at my lips. I could still vividly remember the complete chaos—teachers and students screaming and running out into the courtyard thinking the building was going up in flames.

Sure, it was immature. I was just bored out of my mind that day, and the fire alarm happened to be right there. Too bad a teacher caught me on the third attempt.

"Third: chronic dress code violations." She scanned me from head to toe before offering a tight smile. "A miracle you're wearing a full uniform today."

I shrugged. What, does she want me to come in street clothes tomorrow?

And the list went on and on.

"So, Miss Flynn is a bit of a troublemaker, hmm? I certainly didn't expect this." A few classmates chuckled at her comment. I let them enjoy their little moment.

Instead of arguing, I just offered a hollow smile. Her expression hardened when she saw how unbothered I was. Did she honestly think a little public humiliation was going to intimidate me?

I wonder how much she'd like it if I shared her little secret with the class?

She folded her hands over her lap, staring me down. "One last question, Miss Flynn. If you've been breaking rules for this long, why were you only expelled now?"

I ran my fingers through my hair and smirked right at her. "Because they couldn't afford to lose me. I brought home top honors and trophies for their school. Why would they kick out their star student? Unfortunately, they brought in a new principal, and voila—expelled. Satisfied? Can I go sit down now?"

"Rules are rules, Miss Flynn. Is being transferred really enough of a punishment for someone who disrespects authority so casually?"

I rolled my eyes again. Why is she dragging this out?

"At least I wasn't making out with one of my students," I said, my voice echoing crisp and clear across the room.

The classroom instantly dropped into a deadly, suffocating silence.

I raised an eyebrow at our homeroom teacher before sliding my glance toward Moore. His jaw was clenched so hard his knuckles turned white against his desk.

I turned my attention back to our teacher, whose eyes were practically burning holes through me. She slammed her palms flat onto the desk. "Watch your mouth, Miss Flynn," she warned, her voice laced with venom.

"I'm just joking, Ma'am. I'm sure someone as prim, proper, and professional as you would never do something like that," I deadpanned sarcastically.

I shifted my gaze down to the guy sitting in front of me, practically vibrating with restrained rage.

"Right, Claude Moore?"