Chapter 1 The new journey
The courtyard goes quiet when I walk in.
Not silent.
_Quiet._
Like they’re all holding their breath, waiting to see if I’ll break.
Spoiler: I won’t.
*Nia.* That’s me.
Scholarship kid. New transfer. Public enemy #1 at Blackwood Academy before I even find my homeroom.
My backpack’s second-hand. My shoes are scuffed. My smile? Nonexistent.
I didn’t survive three schools in two years by smiling.
“Bet she lasts a week,” someone whispers by the fountain.
I don’t look. I _never_ look.
*Then I see him.*
*Rovin.*
He’s on the bleachers, lacing up sneakers that probably cost more than my mom’s monthly meds. He doesn’t look up. He doesn’t have to. The whole school parts around him like he’s a god. Or a curse.
_They say he put a guy in the hospital last year._
_They say there was no proof._
_They say I should stay away._
I believe them.
*Jiva* storms past me, yelling at a teacher about derivatives before the first bell even rings. Glasses. Perfect uniform. And he side-eyes my calculus textbook like I personally offended Newton.
*Rima* almost kills me with a football.
“Shit— sorry!” she yells, grinning with a busted knee. “You play?”
“No.”
She shrugs. “Your loss. I need people who don’t flinch.”
Then she’s gone.
*Deny* is asleep against a pillar, shirt unbuttoned _way_ too much for 8am. A girl shakes his shoulder. He flips her off without opening his eyes.
This is Blackwood Academy.
Rich kids. Rules don’t apply.
And me?
I’m just the scholarship girl who walked into a warzone.
---
First class. I’m early. Obviously.
The seat behind me scrapes.
I don’t have to turn around.
I can _feel_ him.
Rovin.
He doesn’t talk. Doesn’t move. The air just gets heavier.
Then it happens.
“Oops.”
Coffee. All over my notes. All over my _only_ copy. The bully — Tiffany? Brittany? I don’t care — giggles with her friends.
_Here we go._
I wait for the laugh. The video. The humiliation.
Instead, the chair behind me scrapes again.
I brace. _This is it. The king’s gonna finish what his peasants started._
But all that happens is...
_Thud._
A napkin lands on my desk.
When I finally turn, he’s already walking out. Didn’t say a word. Didn’t even look at me.
And somehow?
That hurts worse than the coffee.
