Chapter 7: The Game Ain't Fair

My head was pounding like a damn drum, every throb makin' my brain feel like it was about to explode. Only two days in this elite hellhole, and I already felt like callin' it quits. It wasn't the strict rules or the snobby rich kids gettin' to me—it was the constant mental strain.

I went to shove my hands in my coat pockets—only to realize my damn coat was back in class. No blazer either. Weird. Kinda missed it. Guess old habits die hard. Back then, I was a bit of a troublemaker, wasn't I?

For now, gotta forget about that damn monster from lunch and focus on the competition. VIP access was too tempting to pass up. "Next class is general studies…" I muttered, then frowned. Wait, what was it again?

Diggin' into my skirt pocket, I pulled out my phone, scrollin' through my schedule while makin' my way toward my locker. "I swear I saved it here… where the hell—"

"You outta your damn mind tryna pull that off?"

A voice cut through my thoughts. From the corner of my eye, I clocked 'em—three girls, tall as hell, built like they'd been trainin' for years. And they were all chicks. Huh. Where the hell did Redhead disappear to?

Didn't matter. Not my business. I kept walkin'—

WHAM!

A fist came outta nowhere, blur-fast. I barely caught it, my right hand clenched tight around theirs just in time. "T-The hell kinda speed…!?" And the power behind it—

BANG!

"Guh—!" My back slammed into the rusted-ass lockers, metal rattlin' as the impact knocked the wind clean outta me. Blood filled my mouth. Shit. That kick had sent me flyin' like I was a damn ragdoll.

"What… the fuck…?" I coughed, bracing myself on one arm while my other hand clutched my gut. Sharp pain shot through my ribs. That was raw power. The kind you don't get from half-assed trainin'.

My phone lay shattered a few feet away, face-down on the cold-ass floor.

"A-Ayo, uh… what the hell was that for?" I forced a thin smile, glancin' over my shoulder at my attacker. Three girls, just like I thought. And the one in the middle? Yeah, she was the ringleader. Shoulder-length black hair, sharp wolfcut, and, I'll admit, kinda hot—if you ignored the whole 'just tried to kill me' thing.

"Ayy, look at'chu, babe. Catchin' my first hit like that?" Her voice dripped with amusement, like she was toying with me.

She sauntered over, crouchin' to pick up my busted phone. Her fingers traced the cracked screen as she smirked. "Daaamn, girl, that lil' tap really did a number on your phone. And that was me bein' gentle."

The fuck it was.

Her eyes narrowed. She was gonna hit me again.

I pushed off my arms, flip-kickin' backward to gain distance—

But she never moved.

"…The hell you flinchin' for? I was just tryna give your phone back," she said, brows raised like I was the crazy one.

Shit. A feint.

Even so, I stayed on guard as I stepped forward. She held the phone out, her smirk widenin'. "I'll replace it. My bad for givin' ya a lil' scare."

Like hell that was an accident.

I wiped the blood off my lip with the back of my hand, shootin' her a glare. She caught it, and as if readin' my mind, she let out a laugh. "Oh, that? Sorry 'bout that, babe. Thought you'd be tougher."

"T-THE FUCK!?" My voice shot up an octave.

Her grin turned downright smug, her two goons chucklin' behind her. "Name's Giana. Class 3-F1. Nice meetin' ya, Collin."

C-Class 3!?

My breath hitched. Did she just say… class 3!?

No wonder her hits packed a damn punch. And here I was, thinking I could cruise through this school without more surprises. Stupid me. I should've known better.

Giana tilted her head, a smirk tugging at her lips. "What's with that look? Shocked? Starstruck?" Her voice dripped with amusement, but her dark eyes were sharp, watching every flicker of emotion across my face.

I gritted my teeth. "The hell do you want from me?" My fingers curled around my cracked phone. Damn thing was probably dead.

Giana hummed, stepping even closer, invading my personal space like she owned the air around me. "Nothing much. Just wanted to see the girl everyone's talkin' about up close." She dragged a slow, taunting glance over me, like she was sizing me up for something. "I gotta say, you don't look all that special."

My blood boiled. "Yeah? And you look like you spend too much time running your mouth instead of minding your own damn business."

The two girls flanking her let out sharp laughs. One nudged Giana's shoulder. "Ooooh, she got you there."

Giana didn't seem pissed, though. If anything, her grin widened like she was enjoying herself. "Ohhh, I like you," she purred, crossing her arms. "Too bad that won't help you in the contest."

My stomach dropped.

I kept my face blank, but she noticed. Of course, she did.

Her smirk turned wicked. "What? You thought this competition was all sunshine and rainbows? Ain't that cute."

I clenched my jaw. "I know it won't be easy."

"Do you, though?" Giana leaned in, lowering her voice, her tone suddenly serious. "Listen, newbie, this ain't just a 'who can look the prettiest' kinda gig. It's about power. Influence. Control. You think people play fair?" She scoffed. "Please."

The weight of her words pressed down on me. I knew this school was cutthroat, but...

"You're saying people cheat?"

She grinned again, stepping back like we weren't just having a damn life-altering conversation. "I'm saying..." She twirled a strand of her short black hair around her finger, "You better watch your back, sweetheart. And keep an eye on your so-called 'innocent' competition."

My grip tightened around my cracked phone as Giana's smirk lingered, her sharp eyes scanning me like a predator toying with its prey. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, but I refused to let my face betray anything other than mild annoyance. This girl—she was dangerous, and not just physically. She played with her words like a blade, cutting deep without drawing blood.

"So," Giana drawled, crossing her arms. "What's the deal with you, huh? Transferring in outta nowhere, stirring up rumors, making Felix look like a lovesick puppy?" She tilted her head, eyes gleaming with interest. "And now, getting chummy with Rio and Jax? You collecting trophies or something?"

I scoffed, rolling my shoulders to shake off the lingering pain from her kick. "You got a hell of an imagination. You should write fiction."

Her two lackeys snickered, but Giana just grinned wider. "Oh, honey, I don't need to imagine. People talk. And I listen."

I didn't like this. The way she spoke, the way she moved—it was like she already had me figured out. And I hated that.

She took a slow step closer, invading my space, her voice dropping into something almost... amused. "Let me guess. You're strong, but you don't want people to know. You pretend to be normal, but deep down, you crave the fight. You're scared—no, terrified—of what happens if you let loose. Am I warm?"

My nails dug into my palm. "You talk too much."

"And you dodge too much," she shot back, eyes glinting with satisfaction. "Aren't you tired of pretending?"

The air between us felt electric, like the moment before a storm. My gut screamed at me to walk away, but something about her words clung to me like a thorn I couldn't pluck out.

Then, just as abruptly as she started, she straightened, tossing her hair back with a casual flick. "Relax, newbie. I ain't your enemy." She winked. "Not yet, anyway."

Before I could respond, she turned on her heel, her gang following her like shadows. I watched them disappear down the hall, my pulse still erratic, my body coiled tight with tension.

What the hell was that?

One thing was clear—I needed to be careful. Giana wasn't just a senior. She was a threat. And if I wasn't careful, I'd end up right where she wanted me.

"Oh, one more thing."

I narrowed my eyes as Giana—this sharp-tongued senior—paused and glanced at me over her shoulder. "I'm really sorry 'bout your phone. Didn't mean to break it," she said, furrowing her brows as if she actually felt bad—but that smirk still clung to her lips.

Bullshit. Is she apologizing or just messing with me?

"So what, your real goal was to break me instead?" I growled.

Her smirk stretched into a full-blown grin. "Bingo! You got brains, kid!" She shot me a finger gun before sauntering off, her laughter echoing down the hallway. This time, for real.

I exhaled through my nose, staring at the shattered screen of my phone. The glass was cracked in a spiderweb pattern, the reflection of my own frown distorted by the damage. Damn it... This was a gift from Mom.

For a moment, I just stood there, rubbing the back of my head in frustration. The hallway was deadly silent except for the occasional whispers. Right. Of course. The audience. My little beatdown was a show for these rich brats.

"The hell you lookin' at?!" I snapped.

BZZZTT—

A static buzz came from the intercom, followed by a voice.

"Collin K. from Class 1-B2, please report to the teacher's office immediately."

Fantastic. Just what I needed.

Walking to the teacher's office felt like walking toward a damn guillotine. I dragged my feet through the polished floors, shoulders hunched. A few students threw me pitying glances; others just smirked, entertained. I ignored them all.

The moment I stepped in, a heavy silence blanketed the room. Five teachers sat behind a long table, their expressions unreadable. The main seat in the center was empty—until a man strode in, his polished shoes clicking against the floor.

Mr. Aldric. The head disciplinarian.

"Collin K.," he said, taking his seat and folding his hands in front of him. His face was blank, but his sharp eyes locked onto me like a predator spotting prey. "Do you have any idea why you're here?"

I swallowed hard. "Uh... my winning personality?"

Silence.

A vein twitched on his forehead.

"Sit," he ordered.

Yeah. I was so screwed.

I dropped into the chair across from them, arms crossed, legs spread—casual, but not too much. No way was I letting them see me squirm.

Mr. Aldric leaned forward slightly, fingers tapping against the table in a slow, calculated rhythm. "We have reports of an altercation in the hallway."

I stayed silent.

"Would you care to explain why you were involved in a fight just two days into the semester?" His tone was as sharp as a blade, slicing through the quiet tension in the room.

My jaw clenched. "I wasn't fighting."

One of the teachers scoffed, an older guy with a permanent frown. "Is that so? Witnesses say you were seen blocking an attack and then getting thrown across the hallway. That's hardly what I'd call 'not fighting.'"

I clicked my tongue. "I didn't throw a punch. Didn't even touch them. If defending myself is a crime, then yeah, I guess I'm guilty."

A few teachers exchanged glances. One of them, a woman with glasses and a stiff bun, scribbled something down. I had no idea what, but it couldn't be good.

Mr. Aldric studied me like he was peeling back my skin, searching for something underneath. Then, he leaned back, expression unreadable. "Who attacked you?"

That made me pause.

Giana was a pain in the ass, sure, but selling her out? That felt... off. The girl broke my damn phone and nearly my ribs, but she played fair in her own twisted way. If I snitched, I had no doubt she'd come back swinging—harder.

I shrugged. "Didn't catch their name."

The older teacher scoffed again. "Unbelievable. Do you think this is a joke?"

"Kinda feels like one," I muttered.

"Excuse me?"

I sighed, already regretting that last comment. "Look, I didn't start anything. Some seniors decided to test me. I didn't back down, but I didn't fight back either. That's the whole story."

Mr. Aldric didn't look convinced, but he also didn't press further. Instead, he tapped the table again, slower this time. "We don't tolerate violence at Nexus, no matter the circumstances."

Right. Because everyone here was just so damn peaceful.

"Under normal circumstances," he continued, "this would result in a warning. However, given your... background, we expected better from you."

My stomach twisted. I knew what he meant. My middle school reputation clung to me like a damn stain. No matter how much I tried to move on, it was still there, lurking beneath the surface.

"You'll be receiving a formal notice of this incident," he said. "And if we find you involved in another... misunderstanding, the consequences will be severe. Do you understand?"

I forced a tight-lipped smile. "Crystal clear."

"Good." He waved a hand. "You're dismissed."

I stood up, giving them a lazy salute before turning on my heel.

As soon as I stepped out of the office, I exhaled sharply. That could've gone worse. But as I checked my cracked phone screen, I knew one thing for sure—this school was already turning into a nightmare.

I barely made it five steps before a sharp voice stopped me cold.

"Collin Kiryuu."

Shit.

I turned, already bracing myself, and there she was—Mrs. Hara. My homeroom teacher. Arms crossed, eyes like cold steel, standing with the kind of authority that could make grown men break out in a sweat.

"You got a minute?"

Did I? Not really. Did I have a choice? Also not really.

"Sure," I muttered, shoving my busted phone into my pocket. "What's up, Teach?"

Her gaze hardened. "Head to my office. Now."

Great. Just great.

I followed her through the empty hallway, the sound of our footsteps bouncing off the walls. The weight of that whole damn meeting still sat heavy on my chest, and now I had to deal with round two?

Mrs. Hara's office was small but suffocating. No windows, no decorations, just a desk, two chairs, and shelves stacked with files. A single clock ticked in the background, each second stretching the tension tighter.

She sat down, motioning for me to do the same. I stayed standing.

"You gonna lecture me too?" I asked, keeping my tone casual.

"You think this is funny?" she shot back, voice cold as ice.

I bit the inside of my cheek.

"You've been here two days, Collin. Two days, and your name is already being whispered in the teacher's lounge," she continued, her words cutting deep. "Tell me. Do you enjoy being the center of trouble, or does it just follow you?"

I exhaled slowly. "I didn't start that fight."

"But you finished it."

I clenched my fists. "I didn't—"

"You didn't throw a punch, sure," she cut in, leaning forward. "But let's not pretend you were some helpless victim. I know you. I know what you're capable of."

That stung. More than I wanted to admit.

"Yeah?" I shot back. "Then you should also know I'm trying to stay out of trouble."

She tilted her head, studying me. For a moment, I thought she'd soften, but then—

"If you were really trying, this wouldn't have happened."

Damn.

I ran a hand through my hair, biting back my frustration. "What do you want me to say? That I should've just let her break my face? That I should've backed down and taken it?"

"I want you to think," she snapped. "Do you have any idea what kind of place this is? Do you understand what's at stake? This isn't some back-alley street fight, Collin. This is Nexus. One wrong move, one bad rumor, and you'll be crushed before you even get a chance to prove yourself."

That shut me up.

The air in the room felt heavier now, pressing down on me.

"Listen," she sighed, tone slightly softer. "I don't hate you. I don't even think you're a bad kid. But you need to be smarter. You already have a reputation, and this school? It doesn't forget. You keep this up, and soon, no one's going to care whether you threw the first punch or not. They'll just see you as a problem."

I swallowed hard, my chest tight.

"You get one chance, Collin," she said, finality in her tone. "Don't waste it."

Silence stretched between us.

Finally, I exhaled, dropping into the chair across from her.

"...So, am I screwed, or what?"

Her lips twitched, almost like she wanted to smile, but she didn't. "Not yet."

I leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "Could've fooled me."

Mrs. Hara sighed, rubbing her temples. "Just... stay out of trouble. If you can do that, we won't have to have this conversation again."

Easier said than done. But I nodded anyway.

"Fine."

She gestured toward the door. "Then get out of my office."

Didn't have to tell me twice.

As I stepped out into the hallway again, something in my chest felt... heavier. I wasn't sure if it was guilt, frustration, or just exhaustion, but one thing was clear—this school was going to break me if I wasn't careful.

"You in trouble or what?"

Jesus—my heart straight-up stopped for a second. The hell? Since when was he there?

I let out a slow breath before finally looking up. Jax was leaning against the wall, arms folded lazily across his chest, his usual cocky smirk in place. I shook my head.

Why do my problems keep multiplying? I can't even catch a break. First, Mrs. Hara, and now this guy? One thing at a time, Collin.

"Hey, you hear me?"

Jax pushed off the wall and strolled toward me, his long strides too casual—like he had all the time in the world to get on my nerves. Then, because the bastard had no concept of personal space, he bent forward slightly, his face lowering to my eye level.

Something about the way his dark brown eyes locked onto mine made my stomach twist, but I ignored it. I could see something flicker in his gaze. Concern? Doubt it.

More importantly, he was too damn close. His breath tickled my face, and it sent an annoyed shiver down my spine. Without thinking, I pushed his face away with my palm. He chuckled, stepping back like he let me do that.

"Oh, so you are fine," he mused, rubbing his jaw dramatically like I actually hurt him. "Mrs. Hara's a hard-ass, but whatever she told you, you should probably think it over."

I blinked. Jax Miller, giving actual advice?

Instead of answering, I kept my head down, staring at the tips of my shoes. My mind kept replaying Mrs. Hara's words, the way she looked at me like she knew I was fighting myself just as much as I fought other people.

And then—because the universe hated me—Jax leaned in again.

This time, his breath ghosted against my ear. "She's my favorite teacher, by the way—"

WHAM!

Before he could finish, my fist met his stomach with just enough force to shut him up. A choked sound left his lips as he doubled over, hands flying to his gut.

"Ugh—shit! What the hell was that for!?" he groaned, crouching on the floor like I'd just taken out his soul.

My fist stayed clenched in the air, trembling slightly from the impact. "Stay outta my space, you psycho!" I snapped, glaring at him.

Jax groaned dramatically, still clutching his stomach like I'd mortally wounded him. "Damn… I think I felt my intestines shift…"

Ignoring him, I huffed and held out my hand. "Lemme borrow your phone."

That got his attention. His eyes flickered up, curiosity replacing his pained grimace. "For what?"

I rolled my eyes. "Mine's dead. I need to text someone." My fingers wiggled expectantly. "Just hand it over."

Jax just stared at me, one brow raised. His silence stretched a beat too long before realization smacked me upside the head.

Shit. Bad habit.

I cleared my throat and tried again, this time forcing the words out like I wasn't about to die of secondhand embarrassment.

"Uh… I mean—can I borrow your phone, please?"

Kill me. Just kill me now.

Somewhere in my mind, I was clawing my own hair out. I sounded so stupid.

Jax, the absolute menace that he was, grinned like I'd just handed him the best entertainment of his life. Then, without even glancing at me, he pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it over—

—while casually lifting the hem of his uniform shirt.

I shouldn't have looked. I shouldn't have looked.

But I did.

And what I saw was way too much.

His toned abs flexed slightly as he ran a hand over his stomach, revealing sharp v-lines, a faint happy trail, and veins running down to—

Nope. Nope. Nope.

I yanked my gaze away so fast I almost gave myself whiplash.

Jax's voice dripped with amusement. "Like what you see, sweetie?"

My breath caught in my throat, and my face burned. God, I hate him.

"...Whatever." I snatched the phone from his outstretched hand, ignoring the way he cackled like a lunatic.

I glanced down at the screen, needing a distraction. His wallpaper was a picture of himself with a black cat perched on his shoulder, looking just as smug as he did. Not a lot of apps, a few games. Pretty normal.

Jax, meanwhile, was still busy poking at his stomach like a child with a new bruise. "Damn… Look at this, sweetie. It's already bruising. You hit me with your whole soul or what?"

I flicked my eyes up, unimpressed. "That's nothing. And stop calling me that. My name is Collin, not 'sweetie'."

His lips twitched. "Yeah, yeah. But for real, you're kinda brutal for a girl, y'know that?"

I ignored him, typing away on his phone.

If I gave him any more attention, his ego might actually explode.

Jax was still rubbing his stomach, making a show of wincing like I'd cracked one of his ribs. "Damn, sweetheart, you got some bite," he groaned, stretching his body just enough to flex his abs again—because of course, he did. "You been working out just to kick my ass?"

I rolled my eyes, pretending I wasn't noticing. "You were asking for it."

A slow smirk spread across his face. "Oh? And what else do I have to do to get you to put your hands on me again?"

My fingers froze over his phone screen. Heat crawled up the back of my neck. I knew this game. He wanted a reaction—any reaction. But hell if I was giving him that satisfaction. "Jax, shut up."

But he was having way too much fun. "Nah, I don't think I will." He took a step closer, just enough to invade my space again. "You sure you don't wanna touch me some more? Could be a learning experience."

I scoffed, tapping the screen harder than necessary. "For who? You?"

He grinned, eyes flicking down to my hands before dragging back up to my face, slow and deliberate. "I mean… it'd be educational for both of us. You know, anatomy lesson. Hands-on practice. I'd even let you start wherever you want."

My jaw clenched. "Jax—"

"Relax, Collie. I'm just saying—" His voice dropped an octave, smooth and lazy. "If you wanna explore, I won't stop you."

I shoved his phone against his chest, harder than necessary. "I'm done."

Jax took it, but not before catching my wrist in the process, his grip loose but firm. "That fast?" His thumb brushed against my pulse, and I hated the way my body noticed. "Come on, sweetheart. I thought we were just getting started."

"Jax." My voice came out lower, more like a warning.

He just grinned, giving my wrist a little squeeze before finally letting go. "Alright, alright. I'll let you off the hook—this time." His gaze flicked down to my lips for half a second before he took a step back. "But damn, Collie. If looks could kill, I'd be six feet under."

I exhaled through my nose, forcing myself to stay cool. "Keep talking and I'll make sure you are."

Jax just laughed, like I'd told him the best joke he'd heard all day.