Revenge

Miss Caramel's office was a stark contrast to the vibrant chaos outside its doors—quiet, orderly, and laced with the scent of freshly brewed coffee. Patricia's eyes narrowed as they landed on the desk, and she folded her arms across her chest.

"I thought you said we're going to the principal's office. What the heck are we doing here?" Patricia asked, her tone dripping with entitlement. Her perfectly sculpted nails tapped impatiently against her arm, the irritation evident in her every movement.

Miss Caramel didn't bother to sit down, instead opting to lean against her desk, arms crossed, gaze sharp. She raised a brow and sent Patricia a cold glare. "I see you'd rather face the principal—your UNCLE." She let out a derisive scoff. "Too bad he isn't here."

Camella bit the inside of her cheek, holding back the urge to roll her eyes. Of course, Patricia thought her uncle, the principal, would save her again. It was always the same—she'd try to twist situations in her favor, paint herself as the victim. But not this time. Miss Caramel wasn't one to be easily fooled, and that gave Camella a small spark of satisfaction.

Patricia's lips tightened, but she said nothing. Her face flushed with annoyance, her perfectly polished exterior starting to crack.

Miss Caramel straightened, folding her hands in front of her, eyes flitting between the two girls. "Now, do any of you ladies care to share why you were fighting?" Her voice was calm but carried a dangerous edge. She waited, brows raised, tapping her fingers lightly on the desk.

Camella stole a glance at Patricia, who was already glaring back at her, eyes burning with silent threats. There was no way she was going to speak first.

Neither girl uttered a word.

"Nothing?" Miss Caramel asked, her patience clearly wearing thin. When silence answered her once again, she sighed deeply, shaking her head in disbelief. "Alright then, that leaves me to punish both of you."

Camella's heart pounded. She wanted to speak up, to tell the truth—that Patricia had started the fight, that she had merely retaliated. But she couldn't. If Miss Caramel dug too deep, she'd find out about the attempted attack on Kamsi, and Xavier's intervention would only make things worse. Her stomach twisted with anxiety.

"Detention," Miss Caramel said flatly, her eyes cold and unyielding. "For a week."

Both girls gasped in disbelief.

"What?!" Patricia's voice was sharp, her face twisted in outrage. Her fingers clenched into fists at her sides, her carefully manicured nails digging into her palms.

"And in addition to detention," Miss Caramel continued, unfazed by Patricia's outburst, "community service. You are both to be in attendance for the upcoming empowerment talks."

Camella winced. The empowerment talks? That was the last thing she wanted to sit through, especially with Patricia.

Patricia scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder in defiance. "I was in attendance last year, and it bored the hell out of me!" Her eyes flashed with indignation, her voice rising.

Miss Caramel arched a brow, unimpressed. "Either that, or a month of detention."

"You CAN'T do that!" Patricia fired back, her voice trembling with anger, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"Watch me," Miss Caramel replied coolly, not breaking eye contact. Her lips curled into the faintest hint of a smirk, knowing she had the upper hand. "Your choice, Patricia."

Patricia's jaw clenched so tightly that Camella could almost hear her grinding her teeth. Her chest heaved with barely contained fury, but she knew she couldn't push this any further without making things worse for herself.

"Now, both of you, out of my office," Miss Caramel ordered, her voice leaving no room for argument.

Camella shot one last glare at Patricia, whose face was twisted with barely concealed rage. For a brief moment, Camella could see the cracks in Patricia's flawless mask—the frustration, the humiliation. But then, Patricia's lips pressed into a thin, defiant line, her eyes hardening once more as she spun on her heel and stormed out, Camella following closely behind.

As they left the office, Patricia's shoulders were tense, her fists clenched. Camella could feel the heat of Patricia's glare burning into her, but she kept her own expression neutral. She'd already seen enough of Patricia's temper for one day. But behind her calm facade, Camella's mind raced.

This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

"Hey," Camella's voice cut through the air, her arms crossed under her chest as she approached Kamsi and Zendaya. Both girls exchanged wary glances. Suspicion hung between them like a thick fog.

"Hey," they responded awkwardly, each word cautious and unsure.

"I have an offer for both of you," Camella's next words caught them off guard. Kamsi blinked in surprise while Zendaya's brows furrowed in doubt. "Follow me," Camella added, already turning on her heel.

But Zendaya wasn't one to be easily swayed. "Hey, Camella, if Patricia or whatever queen bee sent you here, you can turn right back around. We're not falling for your tricks," Zendaya snapped, her voice dripping with skepticism.

Camella halted, her lips curling in a bitter scoff. "First of all, she's not my leader," she spat, rolling her eyes. "And second of all, Patricia can go fuck herself. I've had enough of that bitch telling me what to do." There was real venom in her voice, surprising both Kamsi and Zendaya.

Kamsi felt her stomach flip at the raw emotion behind Camella's words. She exchanged another glance with Zendaya, this time filled with uncertainty. Could Camella actually be serious?

"So, are you coming or not?" Camella asked impatiently, turning her sharp gaze back to them.

Kamsi hesitated, her feet frozen in place. Zendaya looked equally unsure but followed Kamsi's lead as they trailed behind Camella. Once they were in a quieter corner, Zendaya was the first to voice what they were both thinking.

"So, what? You want us to join in on your little revenge plan?" Zendaya scoffed, folding her arms. "You think we're pawns in this game of yours?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Camella sneered. "We've got a common enemy—Patricia Newman. I think it's better if you guys join in. You can get your revenge for what she did to you." She shot Kamsi a meaningful look, her voice dropping with persuasion. "What do you say? You just gonna let her get away with it, or will you take her down?"

Kamsi felt the weight of Camella's words sink into her chest. The offer was tempting, she had to admit. Patricia had tormented her, humiliated her. A small part of her relished the thought of seeing Patricia squirm. But something didn't sit right.

**Camella wasn't a saint.**

In fact, she was a mini-Patricia, another puppet from that same twisted clique. And now, just because of their feud, she wanted to play the role of rebel? Kamsi could see it clearly: Camella was only doing this for herself. And what if they made up? Patricia and Camella would be back to their usual games, with Kamsi caught in the middle of their toxic web. No, she didn't want to get entangled in their mess. She'd fight her own battles—on her own terms.

"No," Kamsi said firmly, her voice surprising even herself.

"What?" Camella blinked, as if she'd misheard.

"I'm sorry, but I don't want to be involved in whatever you have against her," Kamsi said, her tone unwavering as she turned away.

Zendaya, standing beside her, grinned with pride. "Way to go, girl," she whispered, her voice filled with admiration. "For a sec, I thought you'd fall for her trap."

"Certainly not," Kamsi replied, her voice steady. She threw one last glance at Camella. "If at all, all three of them should go down. They're the same."

Zendaya nodded, her grin widening. "Fact. But this doesn't change our plans, right? We're still gonna give Patricia a taste of her own medicine, aren't we?"

"Definitely," Kamsi confirmed, and they both shared a laugh, the tension melting away.

As they walked off, Kamsi knew that revenge might come—but it would be on her own terms, not through someone like Camella, who was as twisted as the person she wanted to bring down.

"Hey D i think I found something." Xavier said staring intensively at his computer with his phone hanging in his ear.