Chapter 4 School Rules.

Jivu's POV

"He is not around," one of the silver-clawed twins answered.

I groaned. "Then who else can I speak to?"

Both twins pointed back to the gentleman. I rolled my eyes. " I meant another person entirely."

And then suddenly everyone was minding their own business.

I shrugged to myself. Whatever. What the heck are they gonna do to me anyway? I am just gonna find another seat.

The front was where students always avoided sitting so maybe no one would disturb me there. I walked over with my bag in hand, anger still vivid, practically blowing steam from my nose as I ignored the stares and chose a seat.

I placed my bag on the table and sat down. But it felt like I was sitting on someone, even though there was clearly nobody there. Uncomfortable, I shifted, and then I felt a tug at my sweater.

Then something shoved me clean off the seat, as though by an invisible hand.

"You're sitting on me," a voice said and then a body seemingly formed on the seat, materialising out of thin air.

"What the fuck," I muttered.

The laughter started as a single chuckle from somewhere near the window, then crept across the room until the entire class was loud with it.

"Ouch, that is a bad first day for her."

"Stalker did her good, I would have gone back home if it were me."

My cheeks burned, I could cry.

I looked up at the student like he was a ghost. He had his hair combed all the way down to his eyes, hiding them completely from sight. He shrugged once and disappeared again.

I stood and grabbed my bag.

I walked to the door, then spun to face the class. Some eyes were glinting with excitement. Others were just watching.

"Fuck you," I said, pointing at the gentleman. "And you," I pointed at Lone Wolf. "And you too, creepy bastard," I pointed at the spot where the invisible boy had been. He appeared again and shrugged at me then he was gone.

"I am reporting all of this to the principal," I announced.

For a moment the entire class stared at me in silent. Now they are scared, I thought, pressing my lips together in satisfaction.

Then every single one of them burst into laughter.

What are they laughing at? Maybe because they think I am joking.

"Don't just tell the principal, report it to the school board!" a boy holding knives in both hands shouted, climbing onto his desk, and more laughter rose.

I was taken aback. Maybe just maybe these students are really as dangerous as the rumours say.

"No, that won't be enough. Go tell the Alpha King!" one of the twins screamed.

More unhinged laughter.

That comment made something twist in my chest. They were being sarcastic, thinking I wouldn't actually go. But why weren't they threatening me not to?

I turned on my heels and started for the principal's office. Something had to be done about them. A class could not function this way. Maybe my peers were scared of telling the principal but I was not scared. I would have fought them head on but I did not want disciplinary trouble.

I paced down the stairs and made my way through the winding hallway paths to the principal's office.

I knocked three times.

"Come in," a voice answered. I turned the knob and walked in.

He looked up from the stack of papers in his hands. "Jivu Smith, right?"

"Yes sir."

"You were here this morning regarding your submission—with your father—and you were placed in Class X." He set his elbows on the table and intertwined his fingers. "Now you want a relocation? It's barely been an hour."

"No. I am here to report assault and forced participation in some class initiation," I told him.

He looked at my cheek and sucked air through his teeth. Then gave a dry chuckle and motioned to the empty seat. "Have a seat."

I walked over and sat. He opened his drawer, rifled through a stack of papers and pulled one out.

"You don't really understand how the school system works. I thought you would suit the class since you have a criminal record, your threat assessment is high and your father suggested this placement."

I almost rolled my eyes at the word father. He had said it twice now. The man was no father to me, he was my captain at the agency. I had no father and no mother. My own mother had thrown me away.

"I believed it was a controlled space for dangerous people," I said.

"Here, read this. Though for someone of your calibre, you should have known not to come back unless you really thought a civilised classroom was waiting for you."

He handed me a paper.

Of course. I had thought they would be controlled in some way, threats handled through other methods and deadly stares and maybe back-schoolyard bullying. Not hand-to-hand fighting and classroom chaos and all of what I had witnessed.

I looked at the paper.

Apple High School Rules

Rule No. 1: Never look a Class X student in the eyes. When you sight one, run.Unless you are one of them or among the Golden to Sovereign rank.

Rule No. 2: Never challenge a Sovereign Tier student (top ten students in power ranking), or the school president who is above the rankings. Unless you can actually beat them, or death is inevitable.

Rule No. 3: Class X business is Class X business. No one interferes unless someone dies.

Rule No. 4: Never walk on the top floor unguarded. Unless you have a close relation with a Class X student, whatever happens is none of the school's business.

Rule No. 5: The principal oversees but does not interfere with Class X and Class A business whatsoever. Any dispute will be settled by government officials if escalation is probable.

Rule No. 6: Always do what Alpha Steven says.

I held back the scream that was clawing up my throat. "Are these... supposed to be the school rules?"

"Yes, dear. Those are not just rules, they are the ways you will use to survive this place," he said, leaning back in his chair.

"I understand your frustration," he said calmly. "But as you can see, according to rules three and four, there is nothing I can do."

"Who created these rules?" I found myself sputtering.

"The school committee."

My face twisted in confusion. "This cannot be real. Why? How? What is happening? What do the teachers even do?"

"We oversee and teach those who want to be taught," he said, nonchalance threading through his voice. "So, do you want a relocation? Though with your criminal record it will be hard for you to get along with the students in senior year Class A."