Chapter 1
FERDINAND BOARDING SCHOOL
The weather was unusually cool that morning at Ferdinand Boarding School, the kind of gentle, comforting coolness that made the air feel new and freshly awakened. Joanna stood by the window of her dorm room, her fingers curled around the wooden frame as she gazed at the school grounds below. For years she had dreamed of this place—its reputation, its architecture, its promise—and now she was finally here. Standing inside it. Breathing its air. Living the moment she had replayed in her imagination countless times.
It still felt unreal.
Everything around her seemed to hum with significance: the towering red-bricked buildings that glistened under the rising sun; the clean stone paths lined with hedges trimmed so precisely they looked sculpted; the faint scent of flowers drifting from the gardens. Even the soft breeze brushing against her cheeks felt like a gentle welcome.
Joanna breathed in deeply. The morning air carried a mixture of floral sweetness and something else—something crisp and fresh, like the scent of possibility. She let it fill her lungs, grounding her. She had expected to feel overwhelmed or maybe terrified on her first morning, but standing there, she felt something different. Something calm. Something hopeful.
She rested her chin lightly against the window frame and watched the campus come alive.
Students were everywhere. Some walked with hurried steps, some strolled leisurely, and others stood in little clusters, chatting or laughing. She observed them quietly, noting the subtle differences between the groups. Younger students moved around nervously, gripping their books or backpacks tightly. Older students, of course, walked with a confidence that only familiarity could give—like they owned the place or knew its secrets.
Where will I fit in? Joanna wondered.
She tugged at the gray blazer on her shoulders, smoothing its fabric. Her blue tie remained stubbornly crooked no matter how many times she adjusted it. With a soft sigh, she brushed a loose strand of her chestnut curls behind her ear. Her hair—thick, soft, and shining faintly under the dorm’s warm light—fell back into place effortlessly. It framed her hazel eyes, eyes that reflected both curiosity and growing nerves.
She studied her faint reflection in the window. The girl staring back at her almost didn’t look like her. Pale skin, hazel eyes with hints of gold, a posture both rigid and uncertain. Her heart thudded lightly in her chest, reminding her that she wasn’t just looking at a new school—she was looking at a whole new beginning.
Below, a burst of laughter caught her attention. A girl with bouncy brown curls and bright eyes was walking with a spring in her step. As she approached the dorm block, she looked up—and their eyes met.
Joanna blinked.
The girl smiled warmly and waved at her with an ease that startled Joanna. A simple, effortless gesture. A small piece of kindness. Something about it felt like a lifeline thrown across unfamiliar waters.
Joanna’s heart lifted slightly. Maybe—just maybe—this place wouldn’t be as lonely or intimidating as she feared.
She stepped back into her room, letting her eyes roam over the soft yellow walls and polished wooden beams. The space felt cozy, warm, almost homey. Her bed was neatly made, the blankets tucked tightly with a precision she definitely couldn’t have achieved on her own. Her suitcase remained zipped beside it, waiting patiently for her attention.
She touched the quilt lightly, running her fingers over its texture. She thought of her parents—her mother’s gentle voice, her father’s steady reassurance, their hope for her to thrive. She inhaled deeply, letting that memory strengthen her resolve.
“One step at a time,” she whispered to herself.
The first bell rang, its melodic chime echoing across the hallway. It was time.
Joanna hurried into the small dorm bathroom. She straightened her blazer, fixed her tie again, brushed her curls into a neat ponytail, and stared at herself in the mirror. The reflection that looked back felt…different. A girl ready to face whatever came next. A girl with a story waiting to unfold.
When she finished getting ready, she sat on the wooden stool by her bed and took a small breakfast from her tray—bread and a cup of cold tea. The bread tasted soft and familiar, grounding her. The tea, though chilled, soothed her throat. Eating alone gave her a moment of quiet—a moment to breathe before stepping into the world outside her dorm.
And then, with a deep breath, she opened the door and walked out.
The assembly hall was bigger than she imagined—grand and echoing with history. Sunlight streamed through arched windows, casting long golden beams across the polished floor. Students filled the hall in neat lines, the air buzzing with murmurs, laughter, and the occasional nervous whisper.
Joanna walked in carefully, absorbing every detail.
The high ceilings.
The wooden beams.
The faint smell of old books mixed with morning dew.
The soft rustle of uniforms.
Her heart thudded louder.
She moved into the line for her class, trying not to look lost. While adjusting her tie yet again, she felt a tap on her shoulder.
She turned.
It was the girl from earlier—the one who waved.
“Hi!” the girl said, her smile bright and warm. “My name is Jane.”
Joanna’s face softened instantly. “Hi, I'm Joanna,” she replied, smiling back. “Nice to meet you.”
“Are you new?” Jane asked, though the question needed no answer.
“Yeah… first day.”
“Same class as me then!” Jane said cheerfully, motioning toward their line. “Don’t worry. I’ll show you everything.”
Joanna’s chest loosened with relief. She wasn’t alone after all.
Their first class, Geometry, took place in a serene classroom with wide windows and soft natural light. Joanna and Jane chose seats in the second row. The teacher, Mr. Hensley, introduced himself and began the lesson.
To Joanna’s surprise, she found herself understanding everything with ease. Maybe it was the calmness of the environment, or maybe it was Mr. Hensley’s clear explanations. But she felt…present. Focused. Inspired.
She glanced at Jane, who scribbled notes rapidly, highlighting and underlining with precision. Joanna couldn’t help admiring her dedication and tried her best to keep up.
The bell rang for break.
The canteen was bustling, warm, and filled with the smell of bread, coffee, and spices. Sunlight spilled through its high windows, casting shadows across rows of wooden tables.
Joanna and Jane grabbed their food and found a table near the center. The chatter around them was loud but comforting, like a living rhythm of school life.
They had just begun eating when Jane suddenly stopped mid-bite and leaned closer.
“J… don’t look now,” she whispered, “but that senior guy has been staring at you since we walked in.”
Joanna froze. “Who?”
Jane nodded subtly toward a table nearby—filled with seniors.
Joanna blinked, confused.
Until she saw him.
A boy with messy red hair, sharp jawline, and eyes that seemed to glow with mischief. He wasn’t smiling… just observing. Curiously. Calmly. Almost as if he knew something she didn’t.
Her heart skipped.
“No way,” Joanna muttered. “He can’t be staring at me. I’m literally nobody here.”
“You’re not nobody,” Jane whispered, grinning.
Joanna tried to focus on her food, but her mind was racing. Every few seconds, she felt the weight of eyes drifting her way.
And then—
Footsteps.
Slow, confident, unmistakably coming toward their table.
Jane gasped softly. Joanna couldn’t move.
The polished shoes stopped right beside them.
She looked up.
It was him.
Up close, he was even more striking—tall, composed, with the kind of quiet confidence that could make someone forget their own name.
“Hi,” he said softly, voice smooth and calm. “You seem new here.”
Joanna swallowed hard.
“My name is Ryan. Ryan Foster.” He extended a hand.
For a second, Joanna forgot how hands worked.
“H…i,” she finally whispered, taking his hand. “I’m Joanna. Joanna Fiddlestone.”
His handshake was gentle but firm, his palm warm. Joanna felt a flutter of nerves and something else—something unfamiliar.
“Welcome to Ferdinand,” he said with a teasing smile. “See you around, newbie.”
And with that, he walked back to his table, leaving Joanna frozen in place.
Jane burst into a whisper-scream. “OH. MY. GOSH. JOANNA! That senior’s totally over you.”
“That's not possible” Joanna replied. “It's just my first day.”
“Okay, if you say so”, said Jane as she continued with her food.
Joanna’s face burned hotter than the afternoon sun. She bent over her tray, hiding behind her hair, mumbling something incoherent.
She wished her heart would slow down. But it wouldn’t.
Back in class, she tried her best to concentrate. But every time she blinked, she saw Ryan’s eyes, his smile, his ridiculous red hair.
Mr. Hensley noticed her wandering attention but didn’t scold her. Instead, he gave her an understanding nod, almost as if he remembered what it was like to be new—and overwhelmed.
The final bell of the day finally came.
Joanna packed her books, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and walked out with Jane by her side. The hallways buzzed with students heading in every direction, yet it felt a little less intimidating now.
She had survived her first day. More than survived—she had made a friend. She had caught the attention of a senior. She had begun to understand the flow of the school.
As she stepped outside into the fading afternoon light, she felt something she hadn’t expected to feel so soon:
She belonged.
And deep within her chest, something whispered—
This is only the beginning.
