As soon as I opened the door, I became someone else.I walked through the narrow hallways smiling, giving people high-fives like I actually wanted to be there. My posture changed. My face loosened. The act slipped on naturally, like muscle memory.The school itself was strange. Despite having millionaires attending, the building looked poor. There were only ten classrooms, each barely able to fit twenty students. The largest—and nicest—room was the principal’s office, which pretty much told you everything you needed to know.The hallways were cramped, barely wide enough to walk through without bumping into someone. The floors were filthy, like they hadn’t been cleaned in years. Food crumbs, loose papers, and even clothes were scattered around for reasons I never understood. Some parts of the school smelled unbearable, especially the art room, which reeked of rotten eggs.They tried to fix it once. During my sophomore year, someone set off stink bombs as a senior prank, and the smell n
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