The sun filtered through the half-closed blinds, casting faint golden lines across the soft pink walls of Zaria Williams' bedroom. She blinked sleep from her eyes as the smell of warm pancakes and honey drifted into her room. For a few seconds, everything felt unusually light. Peaceful.
Then came the knock.
"Zaria, baby," her mom's voice called gently. "Come downstairs. I have something for you."
Dragging herself out of bed, she threw on a hoodie and padded down the stairs barefoot, her messy curls bouncing lightly with each step. The moment she turned into the living room, she froze.
Sitting on the coffee table was a box sleek, white, with a bold black swoosh carved into the lid. Right beside it was a brand-new, midnight blue school bag with silver zippers still wrapped in thin plastic.
Zaria's breath hitched. "Mom… what is this?"
Her mom turned from the kitchen counter, spatula in one hand, and smiled warmly. "A little something to celebrate your new friend."
Zaria's eyes widened. "You didn't have to…"
Her mother chuckled, placing a plate of pancakes on the table. "I wanted to. You came home glowing yesterday. I haven't seen you smile like that in months."
Zaria stepped forward slowly, hands almost trembling as she opened the box. Inside were a pristine pair of Nike Air Force 1s, pure white with soft gold accents. The smell of fresh leather hit her immediately.
A giggle escaped her lips. "They're… perfect."
"You'll look like you own the halls of Harrington," her mom said, ruffling her hair. "Go on, try them on."
By the time she was dressed and standing in front of the mirror, her smile had grown even wider. The bag sat snug over her shoulders, her outfit a mix of black jeans and a clean white top tucked neatly, the sneakers glowing under her feet. She didn't just look good—she felt good.
Even her little sister, who was still brushing her teeth with foamy cheeks, paused in the hallway to gasp. "Wow, Zaza! You look rich!"
Zaria laughed. "You think so?"
"Yep! You better walk in slow-mo when you get to school," her sister said, then frowned. "But… you forgot my chocolate yesterday."
Zaria groaned. "Oh no! I completely forgot. I'm so sorry."
"You promised!" the little girl pouted, crossing her arms.
"I'll make it up to you," Zaria said, kneeling to her level. "Two chocolates tomorrow, okay?"
That earned her a toothy grin and a tight hug. "Deal!"
Harrington High
By the time she stepped through the polished glass doors of Harrington High, Zaria was a walking beam of quiet confidence. Heads turned, eyes flicked in her direction. She clutched the straps of her bag tighter, keeping her expression neutral.
Maybe today would be different.
Or maybe not.
She barely made it past the third hallway before the whispers started.
"Is that… Zaria Williams?"
"Since when does she have style?"
"Looks like someone robbed a store."
Her pace faltered for a second, but she kept walking.
Then came them.
Ashley Harrington, daughter of the school board president and Harrington High's self-proclaimed queen, stepped out from the crowd like a lioness on a hunt. Her golden curls gleamed under the hallway lights, and her expensive perfume hit the air a second before she spoke.
"Well, well… Look who finally got tired of thrift store fashion."
Tessa, flanking her right, snorted. "Maybe someone felt sorry for her and donated last season's leftovers."
Ryan, standing just a few feet away, leaned against the lockers with practiced arrogance. He didn't bother hiding the slow sweep of his gaze, from her new bag to her spotless shoes.
"Cute shoes, Williams," he drawled. "Next time try not to look like you're playing dress-up in your mom's closet."
Xavier, behind him, elbowed Leo and whispered loudly enough for Zaria to hear, "Bet she's trying to impress someone. Maybe she thinks shoes will distract from everything else."
Leo grinned, "Doesn't matter what she wears. A crown on a scarecrow is still a scarecrow."
Ivana, Ashley's echo with her icy smile, tilted her head. "Poor thing. She thinks looking good is all it takes to be noticed. What a fairytale."
Zaria felt her cheeks heat, but she didn't look down. She kept her chin up, even though her heart was pounding in her chest like a drum.
Laughter bubbled among the clique, loud and cruel.
It took everything in her not to say something. Not to throw the bag down and scream that it wasn't charity or a makeover—it was love. Her mom loved her. Her sister adored her. And Lena… Lena saw her.
So instead, she gave a tight, practiced smile. The kind that didn't reach her eyes.
"You're right," she said calmly, her voice cutting through the mockery like glass. "It doesn't take much to outshine people with nothing but empty words."
The smirks faltered, just for a second.
Then she walked away, shoes silent on the polished floor, her new bag bouncing lightly behind her.
But the sting lingered.
The whispers followed.
And somewhere behind her, Ashley's voice hissed low, "She thinks this is over. It's just beginning."