Chapter 2

I woke up to the dreaded sound of my alarm clock echoing through my room. Reluctantly, I left the warmth and comfort of my bed to reach over and turn it off.

Dragging myself to the bathroom, I washed my face, brushed out my dark blonde hair, and braided two strands together at the back, leaving the rest loose. After loosely curling my hair, I applied some simple makeup.

For my outfit, I chose ripped light-wash mom jeans and a white retro-looking crop top that I had picked up from my favorite thrift shop in Boston. I slipped on my high-top Converse and headed downstairs.

I quickly ate a bowl of frosted flakes, brushed my teeth, and grabbed my backpack. I considered going into my mom's room to say goodbye but decided against it since she was still asleep. Grabbing the car keys, I set off for school.

As I drove away from my house, another wave of emotions hit me. The students at my new school knew nothing about my family, who I was, or what I was like. It was a completely fresh start, which should have been great, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I would somehow mess everything up again.

Pulling into the school parking lot, I started breathing heavily. Trying to calm myself, I used some of the techniques my therapist had taught me back home.

Once I felt more composed, I got out of the car and took a moment to take in the surroundings. Keeping my head down, I made my way towards my first-period class, hoping to navigate this new environment as smoothly as possible.

After asking around ten different people, I finally found my classroom. I swallowed hard as I sat down at an empty desk in the back of the room.

While getting my books out, I heard a voice in front of me. "Hey! You must be new. My name is Josie," said a girl with strawberry blonde hair, light blue eyes, and a bright smile. I looked up and smiled back.

"I'm Carla," I told her, and her face lit up when she heard my name.

"I love that name! It's so pretty," she exclaimed, then sat down at the desk next to mine.

"Thanks, yours too," I responded. She smiled and pulled out a piece of paper.

"I wonder if we have any other classes together," she said, taking my schedule to compare it with hers.

She was incredibly cheerful, but she seemed genuinely nice. As long as she stayed kind, I knew I would like her.

"We have history together fourth period. Then we can walk to lunch together afterward," she said, and I smiled. "So, what do you like to do?"

Josie and I chatted for about ten more minutes, discovering that we had quite a lot in common.

I began to feel a sense of lightness in my chest again, but this time I let it wash over me. A little bit of happiness couldn't hurt once in a while—I just needed to make sure not to let it get out of hand.

The teacher walked in during Josie's story about an embarrassing moment at school.

"Hello, students... Welcome back. My name is Mr. Fichte. Not fish—Fichte," he said, emphasizing the pronunciation. A few chuckles rippled through the room.

The rest of the period was spent going over class rules and other pointless stuff. I barely paid attention.

When the bell rang, Josie and I exchanged a glance.

"I’ll see you in history... good luck!" she said before disappearing out the door before I could even respond.

I chuckled to myself as I stood up, realizing I had about five minutes to get to my locker and make it to my next class.

Stepping into the crowded hallway, I was instantly swept up in the wave of students, everyone rushing to their lockers, chatting with friends. I pushed through the chaos, maneuvering toward a quieter corridor where my locker was located.

When I finally reached it, I let out a relieved sigh and spun the lock. It clicked open on the first try.

I grabbed my books and shut the locker, only to be met with a sudden impact.

Cold liquid drenched me, seeping into my clothes. I froze, jaw dropping as I took in the bright blue stain spreading across my shirt.

"Jesus—can you watch where the hell you're going?" a deep voice snapped.

I looked up, meeting a pair of stormy blue eyes. He had dark brown hair that somehow looked effortlessly messy yet styled. Behind him stood three other guys, equally attractive, clearly his usual crew.

"What did you just say?" I glared at him, my blood boiling.

I liked this shirt, damn it. Now it looked like a failed tie-dye experiment.

"Are you deaf? I said, could you maybe watch where the f**k you’re going?" he repeated slowly, as if I were stupid.

My irritation spiked.

"First of all, I’m not deaf," I shot back. "But if I were, saying it slower wouldn’t magically help me understand, du mb as s. And second of all, you’re right... I’m so incredibly sorry that you spilled your drink all over me." My voice dripped with sarcasm.

He raised an eyebrow, looking slightly thrown off. Clearly, he wasn’t used to being talked back to.

"Well, you walked into me," he argued, recovering quickly.

"Technically, I wasn’t even moving. Not sure how you define walking, but I’m pretty sure standing still doesn’t count," I shot back.

His jaw tightened. "Can you just shut up and keep walking?" he said, voice laced with irritation.

What an as s hole.

"I can't. You're still blocking my way," I said, standing my ground. When he didn’t move, I sighed and shoved past him, fully aware that I was probably earning a nasty glare in the process.

"B*tch," I heard him mutter under his breath.

An unexpected laugh escaped me. Without thinking, I spun on my heels and marched right back up to him.

Before he could react, I snatched the half-empty bottle of Gatorade from his hand, lifted it above his head, and poured the rest all over him. His expression? Absolutely priceless.

Laughter erupted from his friends behind him.

"Never call a girl a b*tch," I said, locking eyes with him as he glared back at me, his piercing gaze burning into mine. "Or she just might act like one."

I flashed him one last sarcastic smile before pushing past them and walking away.

As much as I loathed him, I couldn't ignore the strange, electric warmth that spread through me where our bodies had briefly brushed against each other. Must’ve just been the lack of testosterone in my life...

After a quick stop at the bathroom to dry myself off, I headed to class and took a seat in the back again. Unlike earlier with Josie, I didn’t make any new friends, but I was fine with that.

By the time fourth period rolled around, I heard a familiar voice call out.

"Carla!" Josie waved me over the moment I stepped through the door. Her excited expression quickly dropped when she noticed my newly tie-dyed shirt.

"What the hell happened? You look like a smurf threw up on you."

I plopped down in the seat she had saved for me.

"Quick question—who are those four ridiculously attractive guys?" I asked, figuring she had to know exactly who I was talking about.

"Ohhh, them," she said, nodding knowingly. "Yeah, they’re basically the four most popular guys in school. There’s Jessica, Kade, Milo, and Asmodeus. Asmodeus is gorgeous, but a complete a**hole."

She leaned in conspiratorially. "Milo’s the newest one. He transferred in at the end of last year, and somehow, they just adopted him into their little group."

Then she smirked. "Here’s some advice—if you’re even thinking about crushing on them? Don’t. They’re all total players."

She hesitated before adding, "Well, except for Asmodeus. He doesn’t really date anyone."

As we made our way to the cafeteria, I filled her in on my little run-in with Asmodeus at my locker.

Josie was loving it.

Apparently, no one ever stood up to them.

Oops. Guess I accidentally broke some unspoken hierarchy rule.

Do I care?

Not in the slightest.