Chapter 4 Lilian Baker
“So the neighborhood is actually pretty chill,” Lewis said, turning slightly in his seat so he could talk to me. “Everyone mostly minds their own business.”
“That’s good,” I replied.
He continued. “Yeah. It’s not one of those places where people are all up in your life.”
“Perfect place for me,” I nodded.
A small smile appeared on his face.
The ride to school wasn't weird except from the part that Andrew exercised his right to remain silent.
His hands stayed steady on the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the road like driving required every ounce of his concentration. If someone didn’t know better, they might think he was the only person in the car.
But every now and then, his eyes shifted to the upper mirror. And every time they did, they met mine.
Whenever I looked at the rearview mirror, he was already looking. He would hold my gaze for a second before looking away like nothing happened.
At first, I thought it was an accident. But later, it happened again and again.
Lewis, unlike his brother, had no problem filling the silence. He made the ride less awkward.
He continued. “Although… I should probably apologize about yesterday.”
I knew exactly what he meant but I didn't want to be forward.
“Apologize for what?” I asked cautiously.
Lewis rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly before he answered.
“My mom.”
“Your mom?” I said, feigning ignorance.
“Yeah. That kind of thing doesn’t happen a lot. Well… not outside at least.”
I hesitated for a moment before asking, “What happened to her?”
The question had barely left my mouth before Andrew spoke.
“How is it your business?”
If I wasn't so focused on him, I would have missed his reaction.
“So you can talk?”
“Mind your business,” he said.
His voice was cold and direct and the message was received by me.
Lewis shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“Andrew.”
But Andrew didn’t say anything else. His eyes stayed on the road as if he didn't just ruin the mood.
The rest of the ride was quiet. Lewis didn’t try to start another conversation.
Andrew kept driving, and I kept catching his eyes in the rearview mirror until the tall gates of Prestige International School finally came into view.
Slowly, he parked.
For a moment, none of us moved.
Then Lewis unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to me with a friendly grin.
“Welcome to Prestige.”
I had a feeling it wasn’t going to be as simple as it sounded.
All schools are the same.
It doesn’t matter if the building is bigger, the uniforms are nicer, or the students come from richer families. The routine never really changes.
Whenever a new student walked in, heads turned, eyes followed and whispers began. I’ve seen it happen too many times not to recognize the pattern.
A new student only has two possible outcomes. Either they slowly blend into the background after a week or two… or they become a target.
The strong ones are forgotten faster. But the moment you look weak, different, or desperate to be liked, someone always notices.
And once they did, the bullying began.
It might not be the obvious kind. Sometimes it might be small things like people laughing when you pass, someone accidentally bumping into you in the hallway, or seats around you staying mysteriously empty.
High school is like a social experiment that repeats itself every year. Luckily, I had spent enough time changing schools to understand the system.
You don’t try too hard, you don’t talk too much, and you don’t give people reasons to notice you. You should exist somewhere in the middle. Not invisible, but not interesting enough to become a conversation.
And if I follow it correctly, by the end of the week, no one at Prestige School will remember that Lilian Baker ever arrived.
The first stop of my new school life was the principal’s office.
A woman with sharp glasses and a voice that sounded robotic welcomed me like she had done it a thousand times before. She flipped through some papers, asked a few questions about my previous schools, and then handed me a small schedule.
“Your class has already started,” she said politely. “Classic Literature. Room 214.”
Classic Literature.
At least the day wasn’t starting with something painful like math.
I thanked her and left the office, following the directions she gave me through hallways that were now less crowded.
Room 214 wasn’t hard to find.
The classroom was quiet enough that several heads turned when I entered.
“Ah,” the teacher said, glancing at a paper on her desk. “You must be Lilian Baker.”
I nodded.
She pointed toward an empty seat near the window. “You can sit there.”
The stares followed me as I crossed the room, but like every other school I’d attended, the curiosity didn’t last long. Once I sat down and opened the book on the desk, most people returned to their business.
Except the girl sitting next to me.
She leaned slightly closer.
“You’re the new girl, right?” she whispered.
Her hair was tied in a messy ponytail, and her eyes had the kind of curiosity that meant she liked knowing things about people.
“Unfortunately,” I replied.
“I’m Becky.”
“Lily.”
“Welcome to Prestige.”
There was something easy about talking to her. Maybe it was the way she spoke without hesitation, or the way she didn’t ask a hundred personal questions like most curious students would.
The bell rang.
“Next class?” Becky asked as we packed our bags.
I checked my schedule.
“History.”
Her face lit up. “Same.”
So we walked there together. Then we discovered we also shared the next class after that.
By the time the third bell rang, it almost felt like I had known Becky longer than a few hours.
“Oh!” she said excitedly. “Time for PE.”
I stared at her.
“PE?”
“Yeah.”
I looked at my schedule again like maybe the paper had made a mistake.
“Who schedules PE on the first day of school?”
Becky laughed.
“It’ll be fun.”
“I don’t do fun in gym clothes.”
She grabbed my arm lightly as we walked toward the gym.
“You’ll like it.”
“I’m considering escape.”
“Don’t you dare,” she said dramatically. “The PE teacher is hot.”
I gave her a sidelook.
“That’s not convincing.”
“It would be when you see him.”
Somehow, I still ended up walking into the gym without changing into the gymwear.
Students were already gathering near the bleachers.
And then I saw Lewis.
He waved the moment he noticed me.
“Hey!”
I didn't get the chance to wave back before he jogged over.
“You’re in this class too?” I asked.
He shrugged.
“It’s a general class. Different grades mixed together.”
Of course it was.
I was still processing that information when the gym doors opened again.
And Andrew walked in.
My heart skipped the moment I saw him.
He stepped inside with the same serious expression he had worn all morning, scanning the room briefly before his eyes stopped on the group of students.
Then his gaze flickered toward me and stayed for what felt like eternity.
Something about that look told me everything I needed to know.
I was definitely not going to like PE.
