JASMINE
I sat in the back row of the lecture hall, hood up, legs stretched out, trying to ignore the whispers swirling around me like flies.
"Did you see that slap?"
"She just beat up Henry Maxwell…"
"Jasmine's gone crazy…"
I rolled my eyes. Let them talk. I was done being the dumb, lovesick brat that everyone pitied.
(I hope this ends well though… It's exactly what the system wants.)
I was about to pull out the book I had in my bag when Henry stormed toward my seat, face still red from the slap, his eyes flashing with anger.
"What do you want again?" I asked, not even looking up.
He stopped in front of my desk. "I don't know what game you are playing this morning, but I want to remind you to bring that project."
"And I told you I don't have it," I yelled back at him not minding the eyes now staring at us.
"That might cause me to fail!" he yelled, loud enough for the whole row to hear.
I gave him a small, sweet smile. "Well, you deserve it. After all, you don't have the mental capacity to do it anyway."
Henry's face turned purple. He leaned closer, voice low and venomous. "I am talking to you easily now before I descended on you. Give me that project right now."
At once he reached for my bag and that was the last straw. me. Before he could finish his sentence, I hooked my foot around his ankle and yanked.
Henry stumbled forward, arms flailing. His face slammed into the edge of the desk with a loud thud.
Before he could recover, I grabbed his wrist, twisted it behind his back, and shoved his head down harder against the wooden surface.
He groaned in pain as I stood up fast, kicked his legs out from under him, and watched him crash to the floor.
The entire lecture hall went dead silent.
Henry tried to push himself up. I stepped on his back, pinning him down with one sneaker.
"Stay down," I said calmly.
He bucked. I grabbed his other arm, bent it backward, and pressed my knee into his spine.
"You think you can keep ordering me around?" I asked, voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "You think I am still the stupid girl who did all your dirty work while you laughed behind my back?"
He groaned louder and I twisted his arm a little more. Just then the bitchy girl rushed forward. "Stop it! You're hurting him!"
I looked up at her. "Stay out of this."
She tried to grab my hoodie. I shoved her back with my free hand not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to send her stumbling into a desk.
Two guys from the front row jumped up. "Hey! Let him go!"
One reached for my shoulder. I spun, grabbed his wrist, twisted it, and pushed him away. He crashed into a chair.
The second guy hesitated, hands up. "Okay, okay… chill… we are not repeating this." And I scoffed at this moment, they must be his friends for them to want to defend him twice.
I looked back down at Henry, still pinned under my knee.
"You listen to me very carefully," I said, voice sweet but ice-cold. "From now on, you do your own projects. You stay away from me. And if you ever try to touch me or threaten me again, I won't stop at a slap. Got it?"
Henry groaned. "You are crazy…"
I smiled. "No. I am finally sane." I stepped off him and stood up straight.
The entire hall was staring. Phones were out as no one moved.
"This should be a lesson for you," I said loudly, looking around the room. "When I say get your shit out of my face, you listen."
(Wow… Host. This is the first time I'm actually proud of you. You learned those defense skills well.)
I rolled my eyes at the system. "He pissed me off. Totally deserved it."
"Jasmine Maxwell!" The sharp voice cut through the silence like a whip and everyone froze.
A man in his late thirties marched toward me tall, thin, wearing a tweed jacket and wire-rimmed glasses. His face was red with anger.
(Oh… this is your academic advisor. Mr. Philip. He must have come because of the trouble you caused.)
I swallowed hard. I hadn't planned to cause this much chaos, but Henry had pushed every button.
"Sir…"
"Shut it right there," he snapped, eyes flicking to Henry on the floor, then back to me. "What have you done? Look at him! He's injured!"
"Take him to the clinic," he ordered the students. They rushed forward, helping Henry up. He groaned dramatically as they half-carried him out.
I smirked at Henry as he passed. "Have a nice time in the clinic."
Mr. Philip turned his angry gaze on me and my smile dissipated instantly. "Come to my office. Now!!"
I followed him down the hallway, heart pounding a little.
His office was a small but neat dark-wood desk piled with papers, shelves full of thick textbooks on real estate and finance, and a single window overlooking the campus fountain. A framed photo of him and his wife sat on the corner. It smelled like old coffee and disappointment.
The moment the door closed, he spun on me.
"You already have a terrible record!" he shouted. "You fail almost every class. You're always distracted by love nonsense. And now you decide to beat up the one student who actually has potential?"
I blinked, shocked. "Mr. Philip…"
"You are worse than the struggling students!" he continued, voice rising. "At least they try. You? You have everything handed to you because of your rich husband. You skip classes, party, chase men, and still expect special treatment. Why do you think you can ruin Henry's future just because you feel like it? People like you make me sick. You walk around with your money and your attitude, thinking no one can touch you. You don't know what real struggle is. You don't deserve to be here. Henry works hard while you drag him down with your silly obsession. If it weren't for your husband's money, you would have been expelled long ago. You are a disgrace to this department!"
I stood there, biting my lip, stunned by how much venom was in his words. He is my academic advisor, not the one to discourage me.
Just then the door opened and Stephan walked in.
I didn't think twice the moment I saw him before I rushed straight into his arms.
He caught me instantly, wrapping his strong arms around me like he already understood everything. I buried my face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent.
"He doesn't deserve to be an academic advisor," I said, looking up into Stephan's eyes. "He's been talking down on me the whole time."
Stephan's face went ice-cold as his gaze stayed on me, but his voice was deadly calm when he spoke.
"How dare you talk down on her?"
Mr. Philip's face turned white. He dropped to his knees right there on the carpet.
"You are fired," Stephan said, eyes never leaving mine.