Chapter 11: Bitter aftertaste

I was runnin' late. Nothin' new there. I always cut it close, slippin' into homeroom just as the bell rings. Why get here early just to stand around like an idiot, right? But today... today was different.

The courtyard was packed. Like, sardine-can packed. Everyone and their dog was crowded around, necks craned, eyes wide, murmurings buzzin' through the air like a bunch of annoying flies. I weaved through the crowd, elbows out, pushin' past some first years who shot me dirty looks. Yeah, yeah, cry me a river. Move.

"What's the big deal?" I muttered, catchin' sight of what they were all gawkin' at.

A car. No, not just a car. A beast of a ride. Midnight black, sleek, polished to the point it was blinding under the morning sun. The kinda car that costs more than most people's houses. Definitely not the type of wheels a high school kid would be ridin' in.

"What's that, a movie star's ride?" I heard one girl whisper, her eyes practically sparklin'. Her friend smacked her arm, hissing, "No, dummy! It's from that agency... the one Daniel's signed with."

Ah. Now it made sense. I shoved my hands into my pockets, leaning back on my heel, watchin' the scene play out. Of course, they'd cause a ruckus. An agency like that showin' up at Nexus? Must be lookin' for somethin'... or someone.

But who? Rumors flew around me like a hurricane. "They're here to see the new faces at Nexus..." "No way, they're probably scouting for new models..." "You think they're here for Daniel?"

Daniel, huh? I felt a grin tuggin' at my lips. Wouldn't be surprised. Pretty boy's face is plastered on every magazine in town. But why come here? They already have him. What, they lookin' to recruit someone else? Another pretty face to slap on their fancy ads?

I squinted, tryin' to get a better look. The car door swung open, and out stepped a guy in a slick suit, shades on, stridin' like he owned the place. A few girls squealed, whisperin' excitedly, but I couldn't care less about him. I was more interested in who he was lookin' for.

New faces, huh? That mean they're checkin' out the talent pool here? Maybe seein' who's gonna be the next big thing? I scoffed. Just what we needed—more pretty boys and girls prancin' around with their heads too big for their own good.

Still... I couldn't help but wonder. Who's on their radar? And why'd they come all the way to Nexus to find 'em?

Looked like this agency wasn't just droppin' by for a casual visit. Nah, they were practically royalty around here. The way the seniors stood at attention, all polite smiles and perfect posture, you'd think the freakin' president showed up. Even the student council was there, all dressed up and leadin' the suits toward the assembly room like they were escortin' some kinda VIP.

I clicked my tongue, shovin' my hands deeper into my pockets. Yeah, these guys were regulars, alright. Must've had some sorta long-standing deal with Nexus. Not that I cared. I had my own crap to worry about.

As the crowd started clearin' up, I made my way to my locker, sidesteppin' the gossipin' girls and gawkin' underclassmen. Seriously, you'd think they'd never seen a shiny car before. I twisted the lock, 17-08-23, and yanked the door open, tossin' my bag inside.

Behind me, I could still hear the chatter. "I heard they're lookin' for new models..." "Yeah, but who? They've already got Daniel..."

Yeah, yeah. Daniel this, Daniel that. Pretty boy's got the looks, I'll give him that. But if they were here just to see him, they wouldn't be paradin' through the halls like that. No, they were fishin' for somethin' else. New faces, maybe. Potential. Whatever.

I grabbed my books, slamming the locker shut. None of my business. If they wanted to play dress-up with some poor sap and throw 'em in front of a camera, that was their problem. Me? I had other things to do.

I turned on my heel, headin' for class. But as I walked, my mind wandered back to the suits. If they were here for new faces, did that mean they'd be scoutin' in classes, too? Wouldn't that be a pain in the ass...

As I walked down the hallway, I shoved my hand into my coat pocket and felt the crumpled paper. Damn, I almost forgot about Tasha's letter. Shoulda tossed it, but curiosity got the best of me. Unfoldin' the paper, my eyes skimmed over the neat handwriting.

"Congrats on your win. You're really talented. I'm sorry for cheating... I deserved what happened. I regret it. Now I'm like an outcast. Everywhere I go, whispers and insults follow me. But... you're not like that, Collin. Even after what I did, you didn't humiliate me, didn't join in the insults. You're... different. Maybe... maybe we could be friends? I don't expect anything, but... I'm sorry, again."

I stopped dead in my tracks, my grip on the paper tightenin'. Huh... I didn't expect that. I could almost see her, standin' there with her head down, tryin' to hide behind that fake smile. Always actin' sweet and innocent, but it was all just a mask, wasn't it?

I leaned against the wall, lettin' out a long breath. So, Tasha was just another kid playin' tough, hidin' scars underneath. Figures. This place was full of 'em. And now she was beggin' to be friends? After all that crap she pulled?

I looked down at the letter again, eyes narrowin'. The part about me bein' different... That's what really got me. Did she think that just 'cause I didn't chew her out or join the crowd, I was some kinda saint? Nah. I just didn't care enough to waste my breath.

But... I knew what it was like. To be stared at, whispered about. I knew it all too well. That suffocatin' feelin' when you walk down the hall and everyone's eyes are glued to your back, waitin' for you to trip, to fall. To prove their assumptions right.

Tch. Sucks to be her, but that's what she signed up for. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. She cheated, she got caught. End of story.

I crumpled the paper and shoved it back into my pocket, pushin' off the wall. I wasn't her savior. I wasn't her friend. I was just the girl she tried to cheat, and that was that.

But as I walked away, I couldn't help but wonder... Just how deep did her scars run? And why the hell did I even care?

Just as I was about to shove the letter deeper into my pocket, there she was. Tasha. With a... pastry? A fancy-lookin' one too, all wrapped up with a neat little bow. The hell?

She bounced up to me, eyes wide and sparkly, a fake cheer in her voice. "Collin! I... I made this for you. As a thank you... you know, for not... not humiliating me or anything..."

I stared at the bread like it was a loaded gun. What was her game now? I didn't take it, just stood there, one brow raised.

Tasha didn't seem to notice—or maybe she was just that good at pretendin'. She kept talkin', words spillin' out in this rushed, bubbly mess. "I love baking, actually! It's my favorite thing to do on weekends. Oh, and did you know there's this new café downtown? They sell the best pastries! We should go sometime!"

We? Now she's talkin' like we're besties? I wanted to laugh. The hell did she think this was? Some rom-com where the mean girl turns good and suddenly everyone's friends? Nah, this was real life, and she dug her own grave.

But I just stood there, lettin' her ramble on. I wasn't cruel enough to shut her up, no matter how annoying her voice was. Besides, I was curious. How long could she keep up this act?

Around us, whispers started up. Not even whispers, really. More like outright taunts.

"Wow, look at her. The cheater's got guts, huh?"

"Pathetic. Think she can just bake her way outta that mess?"

"She should've just quit after what she did. Loser."

Tasha's shoulders tensed, just a little. She didn't even flinch, didn't look their way. Just kept her eyes locked on me, that smile glued to her face, like she couldn't hear a damn thing. But her eyes... yeah, her eyes gave her away. They were hollow, waverin' just a bit, like she was tryin' not to cry.

I felt a twist in my gut. She was playin' tough, but those words were sinkin' in deep. I knew that look. Seen it in my own mirror a couple of times, back when I thought I could hide behind fake smiles too.

She pushed the bread closer to me, her hands shakin' just slightly. "I-I made it myself! It's really good, I promise! I thought... I thought you'd like it..."

I looked down at the bread, at the delicate icing and the perfect little bow. It was pretty. Way too pretty for someone as messy as her. I almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

I took it from her hands, just to make her stop shakin'. Her face lit up, like I'd just given her a gold medal. "Thanks... I... I'll see you around, Collin!" She spun around and practically ran off, head low but shoulders stiff, tryin' to keep up that cheerful act.

As she disappeared down the hall, the whispers followed her, trailin' behind like shadows. Her back was rigid, but I could tell those words were tearin' into her, piece by piece.

I looked down at the pastry in my hands, feelin' its warmth seep through the paper. It was beautiful, perfect. Just like the image she was tryin' so hard to keep up. I knew it'd taste sweet, but for some reason, it left a bitter taste in my mouth.

I took another bite of the stupidly pretty pastry, chewing slowly as I made my way down the hall. It was annoyingly sweet, almost too cute for my taste, but whatever. I wasn't about to waste it. Besides, Tasha's face when she handed it over... that fake smile plastered on, eyes screaming a whole different story—I couldn't spit it out, not after that.

I turned the corner, and of course, ran smack into the last two people I wanted to see: Felix and Jax. Those two were always lurking around the first floor, probably just to mess with underclassmen who scattered the second they showed up. Typical.

"Well, well, look who it is," Jax's voice came first, dripping with that cocky drawl. He leaned against the wall, eyes immediately zoning in on the pastry in my hand. "Didn't think you were the cutesy-sweets type, Kiryuu. Figured you were more... spicy." His gaze flicked to my mouth, lingering a second too long.

I kept my face neutral, chewing deliberately slow. I wasn't giving him the satisfaction of a reaction. "Didn't think you were the type to care," I shot back, deadpan.

"Oh, I care," he said, his grin widening. "Especially when you're out here breaking hearts left and right."

I arched an eyebrow. "The hell are you talking about?"

Felix finally spoke up, his voice low, steady. "Rumors." His eyes met mine, dark and serious. "They're saying you're playing around... first me, now him." He jerked his chin toward Jax, jaw tightening.

Ah. That's what this was about. I couldn't help it—I laughed, short and sharp. "You two are delusional."

Jax's grin didn't budge. "Am I? Yesterday... riding my bike... you holding on to me... real tight."

I felt heat rise to my face, but I kept my glare steady. "You were speeding like a maniac."

"Had to make sure you'd hold on, Princess."

My fist twitched. Oh, he was cruising for a bruising. "You don't shut up, do you?"

Jax just chuckled, leaning in, way too close. "And here I thought we had a moment."

I snorted, shoving the last bite of pastry in my mouth just to keep from saying something I'd regret. The idiot wasn't worth the trouble.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Felix's fists clench, just a little. He was trying to play it cool, his face that usual stone-cold mask, but his shoulders were too stiff. He was pissed. Even I could see that. But, of course, he said nothing, just stood there in that brooding silence of his.

He looked at me one more time, his eyes flicking between me and Jax, before shoving his hands in his pockets and walking off, his back tense. I watched him go, some strange, tight feeling twisting in my chest. Whatever. Not my problem.

But then Jax had to open his big mouth again. "Wonder if he's jealous?"

I whipped around, eyes narrowing. "I will kill you."

He just laughed, all smug and unbothered. "Love it when you get feisty."

I turned on my heel, ready to storm off before I did something stupid, but Jax caught up, throwing an arm around my shoulders like we were best buddies. "You're way too fun to mess with."

My fist was in his ribs before I could stop myself. "Keep talking, and you'll be messing with a broken nose."

He just grinned wider, unfazed, and let go, hands up in mock surrender. "Can't blame me for enjoying the view."

I glared, and he laughed harder, that stupid, cocky laugh echoing down the hall as I stomped off, doing my best to ignore the heat crawling up my neck.

Stupid boys. What a pain in the ass.

I barely made it through the door when some over-eager student council kid showed up, voice loud enough to shake the windows. "Attention! All students, please pick up your gym uniforms immediately! There's PE today!"

Great. Just what I needed. I'd barely gotten to class, and now they were already barking orders. I rolled my eyes, didn't even get a second to breathe.

Gym, huh? Ugh. Not like I hated sports or anything—I was damn good at them. Too good, actually. But PE here was a joke. A bunch of pampered kids who'd rather look pretty than break a sweat. I sighed, slamming the locker shut and heading toward the equipment room.

The hallway was crowded, everyone shuffling around like confused sheep. I squeezed past them, not bothering to be gentle. Seriously, did no one know how to move with purpose around here? They acted like gym was some death sentence.

"Move it or lose it," I muttered, pushing through.

Finally, I made it to the storage room where the uniforms were being handed out. The line was ridiculously long, of course. I clicked my tongue, leaning against the wall with my arms crossed, waiting for the line to shrink. Some girls at the front were giggling, probably flirting with the senior boy handing out the uniforms. Pathetic.

This was going to take forever. I stifled a groan. Just my luck.

Arms crossed, tapping my foot as the line for the gym uniform inched forward at a snail's pace. They really needed to fix this system. Seriously, how long does it take to hand out a stupid shirt and shorts?

"That's why I hate lines," I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes. I should've just skipped this and borrowed from someone.

"Hey, ain't you the one who took down Tasha?"

I glanced to my right, where the voice came from, and saw her. The redhead from before, the one I clocked as Beauty Class at first glance but clearly wasn't. She was smaller than me—petite, even—but there was no mistaking the way she carried herself. Confident, bold, hands on her hips like she owned the place. Fighter Class, no doubt.

"And you're... who again?" I fired back, arching an eyebrow.

She grinned, all teeth, unfazed by my bluntness. "Sienna. Fighter Class, first year." She jabbed her thumb at her chest, like she was announcing something to be proud of. "You?"

"Collin, beauty class."

Sienna's eyes widened, and she actually laughed—a loud, carefree laugh that turned heads. "No way! You? Beauty Class?" She looked me up and down, then smirked. "Well, damn. They're letting anyone in, huh?"

I shrugged. "Guess they needed to balance out all the glitter and fake smiles."

Her laugh came again, a short burst. "I like you already." She leaned in, lowering her voice. "So... the rumors true? You really took down Tasha?"

I gave her a sideways glance. "She took herself down. I just made sure she fell harder."

"Ouch. Cold." Sienna's grin widened, eyes gleaming with mischief. "You don't play, huh?"

I didn't bother responding. If she was in Fighter Class, she'd get it. Winning ain't just about fists and kicks. Sometimes, the mind's the sharpest weapon. And I used mine just fine.

"You're interesting, Collin." She crossed her arms, studying me like she was trying to figure me out. "Most girls in Beauty Class are scared of us. But you're... different."

I scoffed. "I'm not 'most girls'."

She grinned again. "No kidding. Wanna spar sometime?"

My eyes narrowed. So that's what this was about. I couldn't help but smirk. "You sure? I don't go easy, even on the 'small' ones."

Her eyes flashed, that competitive glint showing through. "Bring it, Beauty Class. Let's see what you got."

I liked her spirit. She was bold, loud, and didn't back down. Yeah, she was gonna be fun.

"Deal." I turned back to the line as it finally moved forward. "But don't cry when you lose, shorty." Sienna laughed, loud and carefree. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."

I watched Sienna move up in line, that cocky spring in her step. She was tiny but carried herself like she was ten feet tall. Fighter Class... I'd misjudged her. Not that I'd ever admit it.

But then the words echoed back—"throwin' hands... a rep for fightin'..."

My jaw clenched, fingers digging into my arms. Damn it. Even here... even when I was trying to do something different, that was all they saw. Just another thug looking for a fight. I could practically hear my mom's voice, soft but firm: "Promise me, Collin... No more fights. Not here."

The promise felt heavy, like weights tied around my ankles. I made it to her because I meant it. Because I wanted to change.

But that was the thing, wasn't it? No matter what I did, I couldn't shake it. Couldn't escape the shadow of who I used to be.

I forced a breath, letting my arms drop to my sides. No. I wouldn't let that get to me. I wasn't that person anymore.

I glanced at Sienna. She was still smirking, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside my head. Maybe she was just running her mouth, but it hit too close. Way too close.

The line moved, and I stepped forward, my shoulders stiff. I made a promise. I wasn't gonna break it. Not for anyone. I just had to keep my cool... and prove them all wrong.

Finally made it to the front of the line. About damn time. I could feel eyes on me, the whispers never too far behind. But I ignored them, zeroing in on the stack of uniforms.

The student council girl behind the table glanced up, all proper and neat. Her hair was pulled back so tight it looked like it hurt. She gave me that once-over, eyes narrowing just a bit before she plastered on a fake smile. "Name?"

"Collin Kiryuu."

She scanned her list, finger trailing down the page before she found me. "Here." She reached under the table, pulling out a neatly folded uniform, the Nexus emblem stitched right on the chest. She was about to hand it over when I cut in, "Got a size up?"

She blinked, glancing between me and the uniform. "A size up? Are you sure? This one should fit—"

"I said a size up." My tone left no room for arguing.

She hesitated, looking me over again. I could see the wheels turning. She was trying to figure me out, probably wondering why I wanted to drown myself in extra fabric. But she didn't push it. Smart girl. She just turned and dug out the next size, holding it out with both hands.

I snatched it, feeling the weight of it in my hands. Yeah, this would do.

"...That's gonna be pretty loose on you," she said, sounding more curious than anything. "Most girls don't like their uniforms baggy."

I shrugged, stuffing it under my arm. "I'm not 'most girls'."

She blinked again, obviously not expecting that. "But... won't it get in the way? I mean, during activities?"

I huffed, the faintest smirk on my lips. "Nah. Easier to move in loose clothes. Not my style to be all... tied up." I shot her a pointed look. "Besides, tight stuff's uncomfortable."

She opened her mouth, maybe to argue, but then thought better of it. "...Right. Well... as long as you're sure."

I was already turning away, the conversation over as far as I was concerned. I could feel her watching me as I walked off, probably still trying to figure out who the hell I was.

Good luck with that.