Another day under a sky so bright it felt like it had a personal vendetta against my eyes—I sat at my desk, trapped between boredom and chaos like it was some kind of punishment I didn't sign up for.
Behind me, Liam was being… Liam.
He tapped the back of my chair. Once. Twice.
Then again.
I didn't turn.
"If you tap that one more time," I said flatly, eyes still on the board, "I'm going to assume you've lost feeling in your fingers and help you fix it."
He leaned forward, completely unfazed. "Violence already? The day just started."
"Exactly. And you're already annoying."
He grinned. I could feel it.
"Did you know if you stare at the teacher long enough, he might disappear?"
I slowly turned my head and looked at him. "Try it on yourself first."
Behind him, Mark was surrounded—surrounded—by girls, explaining something like he was hosting a TED Talk.
"…so technically, acceleration—"
"Oh my God, you're so smart," one of them said, leaning in like he was about to reveal the secrets of the universe.
I rolled my eyes.
They understood. They just liked the delivery.
Up front, Mr. Room droned on, voice flatter than my motivation.
"Energy cannot be created or destroyed—only transformed…"
I rested my chin on my hand.
Please transform me into someone who's not here.
And then—
The door swung open.
Not opened. Swung.
Enter Mr. Rick.
Sunglasses. Indoors. Bright blazer that could probably be seen from space. Confidence at dangerous levels.
"Class attendance," he announced, glancing at Mr. Room like he was mildly inconvenienced by his existence.
"Will you please excuse me?"
Mr. Room sighed like a man who had lost every battle in life. "Well… your home room teacher clearly doesn't want you educated. Submit your homework."
He packed up and left like a defeated villain.
Mr. Rick rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. They learned something—who even loves physics?"
"NOT ME!" Jasper yelled.
The class laughed.
Mr. Rick smirked, chewing gum like he had all the time in the world. "Good. Now listen."
The room quieted instantly.
"We're having a beauty contest."
Explosion.
"What?!""No way!""I'm winning that!"
I froze.
No. Absolutely not.
"Six contestants," he continued. "Three girls. Three boys."
My stomach dropped.
"Regina."
Of course.
She flipped her hair slowly, like the spotlight had been waiting for her.
"Emma."
Expected.
"And…" he paused, smiling like he was about to ruin someone's life.
"Ayana."
Silence.
Then—
"What?!" I shot up. "Sir, there has to be a mistake—"
"No excuses this year," he said smoothly, pointing at me.
"I don't even—"
"Beauty isn't just looks," he cut in. "It's presence."
I blinked.
That sounded deep.
Also suspicious.
"But I don't have style," I muttered.
"You'll survive," he said casually.
Wow. Inspirational.
"And the boys—Mark, Liam, Ethan."
Liam jumped up. "LET'S GOOO!"
Ethan nodded once like he'd just accepted a classified mission.
Mark adjusted his glasses, glanced at me—and smiled.
I immediately looked away.
Mr. Rick clapped. "Meet me after class."
Then he walked out like he had a runway waiting outside.
The bell rang.
Chaos.
The hallway turned into noise, whispers, judgment.
"Regina's winning, obviously.""Ayana? Seriously?""She'll embarrass herself."
I shut my locker harder than necessary.
"Hey."
Liam again.
"What?" I sighed.
"You ready?" he asked, leaning casually against the locker beside mine.
"No," I said immediately. "I don't want this. I hate makeup, I hate dresses, I hate pretending."
He studied me for a second.
Then nodded. "Cool."
I blinked. "…cool?"
"I still think you'll do great," he added, shrugging.
Then he walked off.
…what?
I turned—
And there she was.
Regina.
Blocking my path like she had reserved the space.
Her group hovered behind her—Ava, Isla, Minna—whispering, watching.
Regina smiled.
Too sweet.
"Ayana," she said softly, like we were friends. "We need to talk."
I crossed my arms. "Do we?"
She stepped closer anyway.
"Yes. We do."
I didn't move.
Her eyes scanned me slowly—from my shoes to my face—and she tilted her head slightly.
"You're really doing this?" she asked.
"I didn't volunteer."
She let out a soft laugh. "That's not what I asked."
I held her gaze. "What do you want, Regina?"
Her smile sharpened.
"I want you to quit."
Straight. Clean.
I didn't react.
"You don't belong in that competition," she continued, voice calm but cutting. "This isn't your world."
"Last time I checked," I said quietly, "it's a school event. Not your kingdom."
A few students nearby went ooh under their breath.
Her eyes flickered.
Just for a second.
Then she smiled again—wider this time.
"Confidence," she said. "That's new."
"Try it sometime," I shot back.
Her friends shifted behind her, whispering louder now.
Regina leaned in slightly, her voice dropping.
"Let's be honest," she murmured. "Standing next to me? You won't just lose—you'll look ridiculous doing it."
My fingers curled into fists.
She circled me slowly, like she was inspecting something.
"You don't have the walk," she said."You don't have the style.""You don't even have the presence."
She stopped in front of me again.
"And that face?" she added softly. "It's not built for a stage."
The words hit.
Hard.
But I didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Didn't look away.
"You done?" I asked.
That pause—
That tiny pause—
She didn't expect that.
Her smile tightened.
"You think this is a joke?" she asked, voice colder now.
"I think you talk too much," I replied.
Someone snorted behind her.
Regina's eyes darkened.
"Listen carefully," she said, her tone dropping completely. "If you show up, you're going to regret it."
I stepped closer.
Not backing away.
"Then I guess I'll regret it," I said.
Silence.
Heavy.
Charged.
For a moment, we just stood there—staring each other down.
Then she laughed.
Sharp.
Cold.
"Alright," she said, stepping back. "Let's make this interesting."
She turned slightly, then looked back at me over her shoulder.
"Don't say I didn't warn you."
And just like that, she walked off—her group trailing behind her, whispering louder now.
I stood there.
Still.
Breathing slow.
My heart was pounding—but not like before.
Not fear.
Something else.
Something sharper.
I turned back to my locker, grabbing my bag.
"Burning…" I muttered under my breath.
But this time—
My voice didn't shake.
I closed the locker.
"…but I'm not backing out."