Chapter 3 03

FLORA

Selene let out a loud scoff, shooting daggers with her eyes at Chelsea who looked like she wasn't backing down any seconds.

"You do have lot of guts, Chelsea. Just because you're one pathetic class president?" Selene uttered condescendingly.

"Maybe," Chelsea folded her arms over her chest, shrugging her shoulders.

"Or you're just pained I don't put up with your shits anymore?" Chelsea remarked, a slight smirk appearing at the end of her lips.

Selene let out a bitter laughter. "Pained?"

They both stared intensely at one another... same eye level, same height.

"I don't have time for this," Selene rolled her eyes then turned around to continue her pace when she looked over at me. Our eyes met, she had the most appealing and enchanting green eyes I'd ever seen.

So mesmerizing.

Her pretty face turned hard and twisted in disgust. "What are you staring at, fat fuck?"

Without waiting for a response which I had none in particular, she stormed off.

Chelsea and I got into the restroom and immediately I took off my blazer and unbuttoned my shirt. I moved close to the basin and it took me more than a minute to figure a way to switch on the aesthetic tap.

I was doing my thing while Chelsea leaned against the wall quietly.

“That was intense…” I started, clearing my throat to sound more casual about what had happened.

“You mean Selene?” She questioned. I glanced towards her, our eyes meeting briefly.

“Oh, please,” she drawled, rolling her eyes at me.

“I love that you stood your ground against people like her,” I spoke softly, washing the stain off my shirt vigorously. It was something I could never do.

I was the fat helpless joke that people trampled on.

“Selene is not someone you’d ever think you want to mess with. You’ll regret it,” she warned with a gentle laugh.

“But you did,” A small smile appeared on my lips. 

Chelsea let out a deep sigh. “We used to be friends,” Chelse began.

“Best friends,” she added.

“What happened?”

“I grew tired of her shits and how she treats people,” she stated.

“Oh… so, you had a change of heart?” I asked amusingly, rinsing the soap off my shirt.

“I’m nothing like Selene even when we literally spent most of our time together since childhood. People let go and that’s what happened.” She shrugged but something in me knows that’s not true.

“So, you gave up on her?”

“I tried my best,” Chelsea mentioned firmly while I squeezed my dress and flapped it in the air.

“There’s a dryer over there you can use that,” she pointed at the machine that’s close to looking like a washing machine.

“Thanks,” I muttered and walked over to the dryer and threw my shirt in.

“And just a heads up about Selene, steer clear away from her. She’s the queen bee of the school and used to be Denji’s girlfriend—”

“Used to? You mean they’re not together anymore?” I blurted way too fast.

“Technically, Selene isn’t done with him yet, she still marks her territory over him.” 

A cloud covered my face when I realized Denji would only go for hotter girls as expected.

“Just avoid anything that will make you be her target.” Chelsea interrupted my thoughts and I resumed to focusing on what she was saying.

“She has a peck of making her victim’s life miserable.” She said with a frown as if remembering something Selene had done.

A warm smile appeared on my lips. “I’m glad you’re different.”

“Yeah, it sucks to be her.”

I was done in the restroom. Chelsea and I went on to seeing other areas in the school.

Chelsea led me through the endless hallways of Crownsworth Academy like she had done this a thousand times before. She probably had but... I wondered if they got half the stares I did. 

Oh well, even if they did it wouldn't be irritation and mockery because they'd probably be petite and slender and rich. Or hot. Every single person I dared to steal a glance at look so... refined. 

They really are all trust fund kids. 

Probably have parents who adore them. Parents who'd rather die than see any of them even bother to wash their own dishes. I sighed at the thought of how much I wished I had their lives. But I guess we can't be choosers. 

Chelsea walked really fast, her steps were confident, heels clicking softly against the polished marble floors that reflected the chandeliers overhead. That's right, chandeliers at a school. 

I trailed behind her, still tugging at my blazer to hide the faint coffee stain that hadn’t fully come out even after the dryer. My uniform felt tighter than ever with every short breathe I could manage. The plaid skirt riding up my thick thighs with every step making me feel even more exposed. I kept my head down, hoping the stares would die down soon. It didn't.

“Over here is the basketball court,” Chelsea said, pushing open a set of double doors that led outside to a massive outdoor arena. I struggled to keep up but when I finally reached her pearly smile, I was greeted with the sound of bouncing balls and shouts echoing across the space. “The guys practice here during free periods. Crownsworth takes sports very seriously. Infact we hold the state champions three years running.”

I nodded, my eyes scanning the court and as expected, there he was. Denji Grayson, shirtless under his practice jersey that he had half pulled up, wiping sweat from his forehead.  

His blonde hair was tousled, blue eyes focused and perfect ashe dribbled the ball with effortless grace before sinking a perfect three pointer. My heart did that stupid flip again. He looked even hotter under the sunlight, muscles flexing with every move. 

Stop staring, Flora. You’re invisible to him, remember? Plus they'd think you're creepy.

A group of his teammates noticed us first. One of them, a tall guy with dark hair and a weird cocky grin, nudged Denji and pointed in our direction. “Yo, Denji! Fresh meat on the sidelines?”

Another laughed loudly, bouncing the ball once before catching it. “Damn, check out the new girl. You here to audition for the mascot or what? We could use a good chubby cheerleader to block this shitty sun.”

The words hit me like a slap of ice water and I felt my cheeks burn immediately. My hands instinctively pulling my blazer tighter around my middle. Fat. Useless. Worthless. The echoes of my father’s voice mixed with theirs in my head but I shook it off almost immediately.

Chelsea stepped forward immediately, her tone loud and irritated. “Cut it out, Marcus. She’s new, and she’s with me. Focus on your drills instead of running your stupid mouth.”

Marcus held up his hands in mock surrender, still chuckling. “Chill, class pres. I'm just messing around and being welcoming. Hey, new girl— what’s your name? You got some moves under all that… fabric?”

Denji glanced over then, his blue eyes meeting mine for a split second. There was no recognition or smile in those orbs. Just a brief flicker before he turned back to his team. “Guys, back to practice. Coach is watching.”

“Come on, Flora,” Chelsea said, grabbing my arm gently but firmly. “Let’s keep moving. Ignore those assholes. They’re all bark and no brain. Trust me, if not for sports seventy percent of them have no chance of getting into college.”

I forced a small nod, swallowing the lump in my throat as we walked away. The teasing laughter followed us until the doors closed. Just like my old school. Nothing changes. But I pushed the thought down. I had a scholarship. A job. I wasn’t going to let this break me on day one.

We continued the tour. Chelsea showed me the music room next, a spacious hall filled with grand pianos, violins on stands, and even a small stage at the front. “This is where the orchestra and choir practice. Auditions are next week if you’re into that.”

“I… I used to sing a little in middle school,” I admitted quietly, running my fingers over a smooth piano key. “Before everything got… complicated.”

Chelsea smiled. “If by complicated you mean eighty kilograms then yes that's complicated but still you should try out. We need more genuine voices around here, not just the ones who queen bee their way in.”

Meaning Selene? Nope. Nuh uh. I plan to keep myself as far away from her as possible.

Next was the swimming pool. It was a massive indoor facility that looked more like a luxury resort spa than a school gym. The water sparkled under the lights, lanes marked perfectly. A few students were already doing laps, their bodies sleek and toned in designer swimsuits. I shifted uncomfortably, imagining myself in one. No way. I’d sink like a rock.

“Pool’s heated year round,” Chelsea explained. “Mandatory swim class for freshmen, but you can opt out with a note. Though… it’s good exercise.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, staring at my reflection in the water’s edge. “Exercise.”

The library was next. Three floors of books, quiet study nooks, and massive windows overlooking the gardens. It smelled like old paper and fresh coffee from the attached cafe corner. I breathed it in, feeling a tiny spark of comfort. Books had always been my escape. I think I'd need it a lot here on out.

“You’ll love it here,” Chelsea said as we wandered the aisles. “It’s basically a second home for scholarship kids like you.”

“Scholarship kids?” I asked, surprised.

She shrugged. “You didn't think you were the only one. This school is swimming with scholarship kids trying hard with fake designer bags and shoes to fit in with the trust funds” 

We moved on to the painting and art studios, bright rooms with easels everywhere, splashes of color on the walls, and sculptures in progress. The smell of oil paint and clay filled the air. A girl in the corner was sketching something intricate, her focus intense.

“Art elective is popular,” Chelsea noted. “You any good?”

I thought of the doodles I hid in my notebooks at home. “Not really. But it looks… peaceful.”

By the time we wrapped up the rest of the tour; science labs that looked like NASA setups, the massive auditorium for assemblies, and the admin offices; my legs were aching and my stomach was growling. The bell for break rang just as we stepped back into the main hallway.

“Perfect timing,” Chelsea said with a grin. “Cafeteria’s this way. Let’s grab lunch before the lines get insane.”

The cafeteria was huge, like a five-star restaurant with different stations: sushi, grill, salad bar, and even a pasta corner. Students chatted in groups, laughing and scrolling on their phones. I loaded a tray with a simple salad, grilled chicken, and some fruit, trying to stick to my “one step at a time” plan. 

No more stress eating my feelings away. Even though I was at the height of my stress level right now.

We found a table near the windows. Chelsea waved over a guy who was approaching with his own tray. “Flora, this is Chaz, our assistant class president. Chaz, meet the new girl; Flora Brook.”

Chaz was lanky with messy brown hair and friendly eyes behind wire rimmed glasses. He smiled warmly, setting his tray down. “Hey, Flora. Welcome to our elite Academy. Chelsea’s been showing you the ropes?”

“Yeah,” I replied, sitting down carefully so my skirt wouldn’t ride up. “It’s… a lot. But nice. Way better than my old school.”

Chaz chuckled, taking a bite of his sandwich. “Old school’s probably a zoo compared to this. Crownsworth’s got the money, but the drama? Same as anywhere. You handling it okay so far?”

I poked at my salad. “Mostly. The tour really helped. Thanks again, Chelsea.”

“No problem,” she said, sipping her water. “Chaz and I handle a lot of the orientation stuff. If you need notes from morning classes or help with the app for assignments, hit us up.”

Chaz nodded enthusiastically. “Totally. We’re prepping for the mid semester welcome event too. You should come, it’s lowkey but fun.”

We talked for a bit and it was surprisingly easy conversation about classes, teachers to avoid, and the best spots to study. Chaz was funny, cracking jokes about the basketball team’s egos. For a moment, it felt normal. Maybe things will be different here. No one calling me pig yet. Just people being… people.

Chelsea checked her phone suddenly. “Oh crap, Chaz. We have that meeting with Ms. Hargrove about the fundraiser in five. Totally forgot.”

Chaz groaned, grabbing his tray. “Right. Sorry, new girl. Duty calls. Catch you later?”

“Yeah, sure,” I said, waving them off with a small smile. “Thanks for the chat.”

They hurried off, leaving me alone at the table. I took a deep breath, forking some salad into my mouth. The chicken was perfectly seasoned, the views outside calming. This isn’t so bad. Invisibility has its perks. Eat, finish the day, go back to Johnathan, get paid and repeat till college.

I was halfway through my meal when the air shifted. Heels clicked sharply behind me. Whispers spread like wildfire across the cafeteria. I dreaded the need to look up to see who it was. And dreaded harder when I did.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the new charity case,” Selene’s voice cut through, sweet as poison. She slid into the seat across from me, her three friends, Stacy and Chantel, (I guessed from the descriptions of Chelsea) flanking her like bodyguards. Grace hovered behind, smirking. Selene flipped her red hair over one shoulder, her green eyes narrowing at me. “Eating alone already? Shocker.”

Stacy leaned in, her perfectly manicured nails tapping the table. “Look at that tray. Salad? Honey, that’s not gonna fix all… this.” She gestured vaguely at my body, laughing.

Chantel joined in, louder. “Yeah, what’s the point? One salad won’t turn you into anything but a bigger salad bowl. Pass the ranch, fatty?”

Grace snickered. “Did you see her in the hallway earlier? Walking like a total slut in that tight uniform. Think you can attract an elite with those thighs... Oh no. Newsflash, pig; it doesn’t fit.”

My fork paused mid air. The familiar knot tightened in my stomach, but I kept my face neutral. Here we go. Endless cycle. I sighed, setting my utensils down. “Look, I don’t want any trouble. I’m just trying to eat.” I half whispered.

Selene laughed, a high, fake sound that drew more eyes. “Trouble? Oh, sweetie, you already are trouble just by existing here. Scholarship trash thinking she can stare at my Denji like some lovesick cow. Newsflash number two: he doesn’t do… livestock.”

The girls burst into giggles. Stacy pushed my tray slightly. “Go on, eat up. Maybe you’ll float away like a balloon after.”

I stood up slowly, grabbing my bag. “I’m done here. Excuse me.”

I tried to step past them, but Chantel shoved me hard in the shoulder. My foot caught on the chair leg, and I tumbled backward. The tray clattered to the floor with me. 

Salad, chicken, dressing, everything spilled across my blazer, skirt, and the pristine marble. Cold liquid soaked into my clothes and laughter erupted around the cafeteria. Phones came out and so did flashes.

Fuck.