Chapter 5 Chapter 5

Maria’s POV

There was a strange buzz in the air the moment I stepped into Crestwood Academy.

Whispers.

I walked down the marble hall with my head high, my designer heels clicking rhythmically against the polished floor. Normally, the stares that followed me were ones of admiration or envy. I had perfected my image over the years. Flawless hair, perfectly curated uniform, a smile that could cut as easily as it charmed.

But today… the stares felt different.

Not warm. Not worshipful. Cold and calculating.

Students were clustered in tight little groups, leaning close as they murmured behind cupped hands. The moment I drew near, conversations would abruptly cut off, replaced by guilty silence and nervous glances.

I felt it like a prickle on the back of my neck.

I kept walking, forcing myself to move gracefully, chin tilted in exact angle of confidence I’d practiced in the mirror a thousand times. Inside, though, irritation bubbled hot beneath my skin.

No one whispered about me. No one.

By the time I reached my locker, my patience was unraveling. I spun the combination with a little more force than necessary, biting down on the urge to demand answers from the nearest group of gawkers.

As if on cue, Tiffany appeared.

Every school had one, a pick me girl who thought being my shadow was the highest honor a person could achieve. Tiffany filled that role perfectly. Always overeager, always desperate to be useful.

“Maria!” she chirped, practically bouncing over. Her curly blonde hair swished around her shoulders, and her Crestwood skirt was hitched just a little too high, a blatant attempt to get noticed. “Oh my God, you won’t believe what’s going on!”

I raised a brow, feigning disinterest even as my heart gave a sharp, impatient kick. “Then enlighten me, Tiffany, because apparently the entire school knows something I don’t.”

She leaned in conspiratorially, lowering her voice to a dramatic whisper. “Your dad’s here. Like, right now. And he’s in the principal’s office with… this girl.”

My stomach flipped. “What girl?” I asked slowly, my tone deceptively calm.

Tiffany’s eyes widened with glee at having gossip this juicy. “Some nobody. She showed up looking… well, not like us. Her clothes are totally off-brand and tacky, like she got dressed at a thrift store. Everyone’s saying she’s here to enroll at Crestwood. And she came with your dad! Like, what even is that about?”

Heat crept up my neck. My dad didn’t just stroll into school for no reason. If he was here, it had to be important. And now there was some… random girl involved?

“Anything else?” I snapped, slamming my locker shut.

Tiffany hesitated, then added gleefully, “Well… some people are saying she’s going to be in your year. And, uh, that she’s… staying around for a while. Like, maybe even coming to your parties and stuff.”

The words were like a slap.

I didn’t respond. I just turned and marched down the hall, my steps echoing sharply as students scrambled to get out of my way. Behind me, I could hear Tiffany whispering to someone about how “Maria was definitely going to explode.”

They weren’t wrong.

I reached the principal’s office and stopped, forcing myself to inhale slowly, deeply. My dad’s voice drifted through the closed door, low and measured. Another voice, a girl’s voice, timidly.

I crossed my arms, nails digging into my skin.

After a few agonizing minutes, the door opened.

Dad stepped out first, his suit perfectly tailored, his expression calm as always. The kind of calm that came from knowing you owned everything and everyone in the room.

Beside him stood… her.

Tiffany hadn’t exaggerated. The girl looked like she didn’t belong here. Her clothes were clean but painfully simple, her shoes scuffed. Her hair was pulled back into a plain ponytail.

Even the way she stood was wrong, nervous, hesitant, like she was waiting for someone to tell her where to go.

I planted my hands on my hips and narrowed my eyes. “Hi, Dad,” I said, letting a thread of ice creep into my voice. “Who’s this?”

The girl’s gaze darted to me, wide and startled, like a rabbit caught in a spotlight.

Dad, on the other hand, didn’t so much as flinch. “This,” he said evenly, placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder, “is Chloe. A young woman I’m trying to help.”

“Help,” I repeated slowly, my tone flat. “By bringing her here? To our school?”

“Yes,” Dad said firmly. Then he looked between us, his expression softening “Maria, this is Chloe. Chloe, this is my daughter, Maria. I hope the two of you can become friends.”

Chloe gave a small, polite nod. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said quietly, her voice so soft I almost missed it.

I didn’t return the sentiment. Instead, rolled my eyes.

Dad’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t scold me. Typical. He never corrected me in public, he saved that for behind closed doors.

“Well,” he said briskly, straightening his jacket. “I have to head to a meeting. Chloe, your schedule is ready. Maria, I expect you to show her around.”

Before I could protest, he was already walking down the hall, his polished shoes clicking against the floor until he disappeared around the corner.

I stared after him, a knot of frustration twisting in my stomach.

So that was it? He just… dropped this girl into my world and expected me to deal with it?

I turned back to Chloe, who stood awkwardly with her hands clasped in front of her, like she was afraid to touch anything.

She gave me a tentative smile. I didn’t smile back.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” I said coolly, taking a deliberate step closer. “I don’t know why my dad thinks you belong here, but you don’t. Crestwood isn’t some charity project. People here have standards. They come from real families, with real power. You? You’re just… a guest.”

Her smile faltered, but she didn’t argue.