Zaria walked into the principal's office, her heart hammering in her chest as she clutched the last of her enrollment documents. The air inside was crisp, filled with the scent of polished wood and ink. Behind a grand mahogany desk sat Mr. Donovan Gray, a stern-looking man with sharp, calculating eyes that seemed to dissect her in an instant. His neatly pressed suit and the pristine organization of his desk made it clear that he tolerated no nonsense.
Without much of a glance, he slid a neatly printed paper toward her the school rules.
"Make sure you abide by these," he said in a clipped tone before passing her a folded school uniform. "Wait here. Mrs. May will take you to your class."
Zaria nodded stiffly, gripping the uniform like a lifeline. The room was silent except for the ticking of an old grandfather clock in the corner, each second stretching the moment longer than it needed to be. Her eyes flickered to the framed achievements hanging on the wall pictures of past valedictorians, sports trophies, and alumni who had gone on to prestigious universities. It was a reminder that she was stepping into a world that had never been meant for her.
The door creaked open, and in walked Mrs. May, a woman with warm eyes but a strict demeanor. She wore a beige pencil skirt and a light blue blouse, her dark hair pulled into a tidy bun. She gave Zaria a once-over, not unkindly, before nodding toward the door.
"Follow me," she instructed, her tone firm but not unfriendly.
Zaria trailed behind her, the weight of her backpack digging into her shoulders. The halls of the school were pristine, lined with gleaming lockers that reflected the bright fluorescent lights. The scent of fresh paper and disinfectant filled the air. Students strolled past in neatly pressed uniforms navy blue blazers, with pristine white shirts,silk ties and pleated skirts or perfectly pressed trousers. Their chatter was a soft hum in the background, but as soon as they noticed her, whispers began spreading like wildfire.
"Is that the scholarship girl?"
"She doesn't even have the uniform on yet."
"She looks so... ordinary."
Zaria straightened her shoulders, refusing to let their scrutiny weigh her down. She had fought too hard for this opportunity. She wouldn't let their judgment shake her.
They reached the classroom, and Mrs. May entered first. The room was spacious, filled with polished desks arranged in perfect rows. Large windows allowed golden sunlight to spill in, illuminating walls adorned with motivational posters and intricate subject charts. The air was cool and carried the faint scent of dry-erase markers and new books.
Zaria stepped inside, and instantly, all conversation ceased. A wave of silence washed over the room as every pair of eyes settled on her. She was still in her old clothes faded jeans and a plain t-shirt a stark contrast to the expensive, well-tailored uniforms everyone else wore. The weight of their judgment pressed down on her like a heavy stone, but she lifted her chin and met their gazes head-on.
"Class, we have a new student joining us today. Introduce yourself, dear," Mrs. May encouraged, her voice gentle.
Zaria took a deep breath. "My name is Zaria Williams."
Whispers rippled through the class, followed by a soft chuckle that quickly escalated into hushed laughter.
"Oh, so you're the scholarship girl," a voice drawled, laced with mockery.
Zaria turned her gaze toward the speaker a girl with silky,plantium blonde waves, flawless makeup, and an air of entitlement. Her manicured nails tapped against the desk as she smirked. She recognized her instantly; it was the same girl she had encountered outside earlier.
Mrs. May's expression hardened. "Ashley, is that how we welcome new students?"
Ashley merely shrugged, a smirk playing on her lips. "Oh, don't mind me, Mrs. May. I'm just surprised. She looks so... rough."
Laughter erupted again, more freely this time, like the class had been waiting for permission. Zaria's grip on her bag tightened, her nails digging into the worn fabric. Every fiber in her being screamed at her to react, but she swallowed down the sting of humiliation and remained composed.
"Alright, that's enough," Mrs. May snapped, her stern gaze sweeping over the class. "Zaria, please take a seat."
Zaria nodded and glanced around, looking for an empty chair. That's when she noticed something chilling no one moved their bags or shifted to make room. Some even placed their books on empty seats as if silently declaring them occupied.
A pit formed in her stomach.
She took a tentative step forward, her eyes scanning the rows. "Is there an available seat?"
Silence. No one spoke. The room was filled with an unspoken challenge, daring her to beg. Ashley leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with smug amusement.
Just when the awkwardness stretched too long, Mrs. May sighed. "Take the seat beside Xavier."
Zaria's stomach twisted. She didn't know who Xavier was, but as soon as she turned, she spotted him tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp features and piercing, ice-cold eyes. He had an air of arrogance about him, as if the entire world was beneath his notice. He sat lazily in his chair, one arm draped over the backrest, his expression unreadable.
Unlike the others, he didn't smirk or sneer. He simply stared at her with an intensity that made her uneasy.
With no other choice, she made her way toward the empty seat beside him. As she pulled out the chair, Xavier finally spoke, his voice smooth but laced with disinterest.
"Try not to get in my way."
Zaria met his gaze, her fingers curling around the edge of the desk. "I wasn't planning on it."
A flicker of amusement flashed in his eyes before he turned away, uninterested.
As Mrs. May resumed the lesson, Zaria exhaled slowly. The first day was always the hardest, but she wasn't going to let them break her. She had earned her place here, and no matter what, she would prove she belonged.