The twist

The quad at St. Aquinas College had been transformed into something that wasn’t real. Strings of crystal lights hung between the hundred-year-old oaks, casting a soft gold glow over marble floors and white linen tables. A string quartet played near the fountain, but no one was listening. The real soundtrack was the low hum of designer heels, polite laughter, and the quiet click of cameras.

It was the annual opening gala — the night where alliances were made, rivalries were reignited, and reputations were tested before the first class even started.

*Jaime Charlton* stood beneath the stone archway, away from the crowd. He had his blazer sleeves rolled up and his hands in his pockets, watching the scene like an outsider at his own party. The music, the names, the politics — none of it fit him.

Alex Johnson passed by with his group, bumping Jaime’s shoulder on purpose. “Try not to trip over the ball this season, Charlton,” he said with a smirk. “Would be embarrassing for the family.” 

Jaime didn’t react. He just watched Alex walk off, already surrounded by people laughing at a joke no one understood.

*Bob Ovelda* slid in beside him with two glasses of sparkling water. “You’re brooding again,” Bob said, offering him one. “It’s a party. You’re allowed to pretend you’re having fun.” 

“I am having fun,” Jaime said. “From a distance.” 

Bob followed Jaime’s gaze across the quad. “Yeah. Too many people here for the wrong reasons.”

Across the lawn, *Sarah Adams* was making her entrance. She moved through the crowd with practiced ease, smiling, nodding, pausing just long enough to make sure people noticed her dress. Isabella Adams was at the table with Miranda and Janine Charlton, the two families circling each other like it was a negotiation and not a party.

Sarah’s eyes found Jaime. She straightened her posture and started walking in his direction. Isabella noticed and allowed herself a small, satisfied smile.

*Stephanie Fevela* had only come because Sofia refused to let her skip it. She stood near the scholarship student table with *Lily Matthews*, both of them in simple, well-worn dresses that looked better than Kylie Smith’s borrowed gown. Kylie was three feet away, filming herself with the fountain in the background. Caption: _Living my best elite life ✨_.

“Do you feel like we’re in a movie we didn’t audition for?” Stephanie whispered to Lily. 

Lily smiled. “Every year. You just learn to ignore the extras.”

*Mia Matthews* spotted Stephanie looking out of place and walked over with two plates of food. “You didn’t eat anything yet,” she said, handing one to Stephanie. “They’re not worth the anxiety.” 

Stephanie took it gratefully. “Thanks. I’m just here because my friend dragged me.” 

Mia followed her gaze to where Sofia was standing guard near the entrance. “Good friend. She’s already blocked Troy once.”

*Troy Montenegro* had been watching Jaime all night. The quiet kid. The Charlton heir who never talked back. It was boring. Until he saw Stephanie. 

He approached with his crew, cutting between Jaime and Bob. “Charlton,” Troy said, voice loud enough to draw attention. “Heard you’re captain this year. Must’ve been a pity vote.” 

Bob’s jaw tightened. Jaime didn’t move. 

Alex Johnson stepped up beside Troy. “Yeah. Maybe spend less time hiding and more time leading. People expect something from the Charlton name.”

The air shifted. Conversations around them dimmed a notch. Miranda Charlton’s eyes sharpened. Isabella Adams leaned forward, interested.

Before Jaime could answer, Stephanie walked past on her way to the water station. She didn’t glance at Troy. Didn’t slow down. Didn’t acknowledge him at all.

Troy’s smirk turned. “Hey. Who’s the new girl?” he called after her. “You lost? This isn’t the staff entrance.” 

Sofia appeared instantly, stepping between Troy and Stephanie. “She’s Stephanie Fevela,” Sofia said flatly. “And if you talk to her again, you’ll be talking to me.” 

Troy rolled his eyes. “Relax. Just asking.” 

“Then don’t,” Sofia said.

*Lily Matthews* pulled Stephanie a step back. “You good?” 

Stephanie nodded, but her pulse was up. “Yeah. I’m fine. I just don’t get why he cares.” 

“Because you’re not scared of him,” Lily said quietly. “And that bothers people like him.”

Across the quad, *Jaime* had been watching. Not Troy. Stephanie. The way she didn’t flinch. The way she didn’t look for approval. The way she moved through the crowd like she wasn’t part of it — and didn’t want to be.

For the first time in years, someone at St. Aquinas wasn’t seeing _Jaime Charlton, the heir_. They weren’t seeing _Jaime Charlton, the soccer captain_. They weren’t seeing the name, the money, the expectation.

They were just seeing Jaime.

*In the shadows near the side gate:* 

Rex stood with his arms crossed, earpiece in. Maya’s voice was low in his ear. “Troy’s escalating. Do we pull him?” 

Rex’s eyes stayed on Jaime. “Not yet. Watch Stephanie. If Troy goes near her again, we end it.” 

Maya hesitated. “Jasmine’s feed is live.” 

Rex nodded. “I know.”

*Miles away, in a glass-walled control room:* 

Jasmine Ovelda sat in silence, a wall of monitors in front of her. One screen showed Jaime. One showed Stephanie. One showed Troy. Her fingers rested lightly on the desk. She didn’t need to make a call yet. But she’d made a note.

*Back at the party:* 

Sarah Adams finally reached Jaime. She smiled, elegant and composed. “Jaime. You’ve been avoiding me all night.” 

Jaime looked at her, then past her to where Stephanie was laughing with Lily and Mia. “I don’t avoid people, Sarah. I just don’t chase them.” 

Sarah’s smile didn’t falter, but her eyes narrowed slightly. 

Miranda and Janine exchanged a look. This was new. Jaime never talked back.

*On the other side of the quad:* 

Stephanie finally sat down on the stone bench, away from the lights. Sofia sat beside her. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Sofia said. 

“I don’t,” Stephanie admitted. “But I don’t want Troy to think he scared me off either.” 

Sofia grinned. “Good. Because he doesn’t get that win.”

*Jaime* took a step forward, leaving Bob and Sarah behind. He didn’t walk toward Stephanie. Not yet. But his eyes didn’t leave her either.

The quartet finished their song. The applause was polite but scattered. The night was still young.

And the beginning had just written its first line.

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