Chapter 4 – The Praise...
Care walked into the classroom, quietly, her notebook clutched against her chest. She didn't look around, didn't wave, didn't try to fit in. Her shoes clicked softly on the floor as she made her way to the last empty seat near the corner. The room was already buzzing—students chatting, laughing, scribbling notes. She barely noticed them.
Professors and classmates alike had been hearing about her: the new student who came with stories of achievements in athletics, a perfect academic record, and now, the whispers of her fame had reached every corner of the college.
As the professor began the lesson, he paused. His gaze swept the room before landing on Care. "Before we start, I want to acknowledge someone," he said, his voice firm. "Care, is it? I've heard of your accomplishments—both academically and in sports. Quite impressive for someone so new."
A ripple went through the class. Some students leaned forward, curious. Care's fingers tightened on her notebook. She didn't smile, didn't bow, didn't say a word. She simply nodded politely.
Cole, sitting across the room, clenched his jaw. Arrogant. Always the show-off, he muttered under his breath. Ben glanced at him, eyebrows furrowed. Daisy, whose face was usually calm and composed, stared at Care, a twinge of irritation flashing in her eyes.
The professor continued, "I understand she won several state-level athletics championships and has been a top scorer throughout school. She's disciplined, hardworking, and evidently—very determined."
Cole's hands flexed on the table. Determined, yes. But arrogant. Too arrogant. And now the professor was praising her like she was some untouchable idol.
The class moved forward, but all eyes kept flicking to Care. She had that quiet presence that drew attention without even trying. Notes were being taken, whispers passed across the rows, and the simmering jealousy of Cole, Ben, and Daisy grew with every word of praise.
Care ignored it all. She didn't need their approval. She had worked for this, bled for this, and survived for this. Recognition from the professors was all she needed—for now.
At lunch, the group was already gathered. Cole, Ben, and Daisy sat together, muttering. "Did you hear the professor just now?" Cole hissed. "All that praise for her… for someone who doesn't even speak to anyone. She thinks she owns the place."
Ben nodded, jaw tight. "It's infuriating. She just… glides past everything, unbothered. Makes the rest of us look ordinary."
Daisy's lips pursed. "She's arrogant. Egotistic. And the worst part—she's good. Really good. Everything the professors are praising, she's earned it. I… I can't decide if I hate her or respect her."
Meanwhile, Care sat at the far corner, quietly eating, glancing up just once when she overheard a snicker. She didn't flinch. She didn't need to. Their judgment didn't matter. Not now.
Later, in the afternoon, during the class demonstration, the professor called on Care to assist. She stood, walked to the front, and flawlessly completed every task. Calculations, demonstrations, explanations—everything was perfect. The professor nodded approvingly. "Excellent work, Care. Truly exemplary."
The class was silent. Even those who had been mocking her couldn't hide their astonishment. Cole's knuckles whitened on his notebook. Ben's eyes narrowed, Daisy's chest tightened.
Care returned to her seat without a word, sitting calmly, as if nothing had happened. But the room buzzed. Some students whispered, some were impressed, some annoyed. Cole, Ben, and Daisy simmered silently, jealousy mixing with admiration they didn't want to admit.
By the end of the day, everyone had heard enough stories, seen enough demonstrations, and witnessed enough quiet confidence to understand one thing: Care wasn't just a name, she was a force. A solitary, untouchable force.
And the jealousy, the simmering pot of resentment and rivalry among Cole, Ben, and Daisy, was now officially boiling.
No one supported Care—not yet. She stood alone, unshaken, and for the first time, everyone realized: she didn't need them. She had herself. And that was enough.