Elena pushed the door open and stepped into the classroom, her heart thudding in a way that felt both ridiculous and annoyingly dramatic. It was just a class. A regular, boring class in a school full of overly dressed rich kids and boys who thought cologne could hide arrogance.
But her nerves didn't get the memo.
Eyes turned her way like magnets. Whispers followed. She heard them—barely—like the hum of bees in a garden. Some girls exchanged glances. One boy nudged another and whispered too loudly, "That's her. The scholarship girl."
Scholarship girl.
Like it was a disease.
Elena straightened her back and scanned the room. Most of the good seats—close to the windows and not too close to the board—were already taken. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag as she spotted an empty seat in the second row.
And then she saw him.
Julius.
Of course.
He sat two rows behind the empty seat, arms folded, a lazy grin on his face like he was already bored but still somehow amused. His white shirt was perfectly pressed, sleeves rolled just enough to show off toned arms without looking like he cared. His blazer rested on the back of his chair, and his tie—loosened, of course—gave him that effortlessly put-together look that probably made half the school swoon.
Elena rolled her eyes before she could stop herself.
She made her way toward the empty seat, ignoring the murmurs. But just as she reached for the chair, a voice rang out.
"I wouldn't sit there if I were you."
She paused. Slowly, she turned. Julius was looking straight at her.
"Excuse me?" she asked, arching a brow.
He leaned back in his chair, stretching like he had all the time in the world. "That's Veronica's seat. Queen Bee of the Future Owners. She'll skin you alive and turn your bones into jewelry."
The guy beside him snorted. Elena didn't look at him.
"Really?" she said, folding her arms.
Julius nodded solemnly, mock-serious. "She once made a Classy student cry for breathing near her chair."
Elena glanced at the seat, then back at him. "And you're warning me because…?"
"Because I like you with skin on," he replied without missing a beat.
A few giggles floated from the back of the class. Elena blinked. "Is this how you flirt with girls? By scaring them off chairs?"
"No," Julius said with a grin. "I usually let my money do the talking. But you don't seem the type."
She didn't reply. Instead, she walked around the row and sat—deliberately—in the chair next to the one he warned her about.
"Bold move," he murmured.
"Do me a favor and don't talk to me," she said sweetly.
He placed a hand over his heart. "Ouch."
The teacher walked in just then, saving her from whatever comeback he had locked and loaded. The class straightened. Professor Okoye, the stern-looking literature teacher with a hawk's stare, wasted no time.
"Open your novels to chapter two," she instructed. "We're starting with a character analysis today."
As students reached for their books, Elena dug into her bag, relieved for something to do. She tried to focus, but she could feel his eyes. Julius wasn't staring exactly. But she felt him—his presence like the hum of a warm summer day. Distracting. Irritating. Kind of… weirdly addictive.
Professor Okoye began talking about classic archetypes—heroes, anti-heroes, tragic flaws. Julius raised his hand and gave an answer so well-worded and sharp that even the teacher paused.
Elena frowned.
He was smart?
That wasn't in the brochure.
Maybe it was dumb of her to assume, but she hadn't expected that. She glanced at him before she could stop herself, and—of course—he caught her.
One brow lifted. His lips curved, just a little. Caught you staring, his face said.
She scowled and looked away.
The class continued. She tried to ignore him. Really, she did. But halfway through, Professor Okoye announced pair work.
"You'll analyze the protagonist's moral conflict with a partner," she said, already scribbling names on the board. "No complaints."
Elena looked up just in time to see her name… next to his.
Julius Kane.
Seriously?
As if on cue, Julius stood and walked over, dragging his chair beside hers with an exaggerated sigh.
"Well, well," he said, sitting too comfortably close. "Fate just loves me today."
Elena stared at him. "Do you ever shut up?"
"Only when someone interesting makes me," he said, resting his chin in his hand. "So, moral conflict. What do you think of the main character?"
"I think he's full of himself," she replied flatly. "Delusional. Always trying to prove something to people who don't care."
Julius raised a brow. "Sounds familiar."
Elena narrowed her eyes. "Are you comparing yourself to a fictional egomaniac?"
He grinned. "No. You just described me too accurately for it to be a coincidence."
Despite herself, she laughed. Just a little.
He leaned in like he'd won something. "Was that a laugh?"
"No," she said, deadpan. "I choked on your arrogance."
He smirked. "Cute."
They worked in a kind of bickering rhythm. He teased. She threw sarcasm like knives. But somewhere in between, they managed to write a halfway-decent analysis.
When the teacher collected their papers, Julius turned to her again.
"You're smart," he said, and for once, there was no playfulness in his voice.
Elena blinked. "Thank you…?"
"And you're not scared of me. Or my name."
"Should I be?"
He shrugged. "Most people are. Or they pretend to like me."
"I don't pretend," she said. "And I definitely don't like you."
He smiled. "Yet you keep talking to me."
"That's because I'm stuck with you, remember?"
"Well," he said, rising from his seat as the bell rang. "I hope you keep getting stuck with me."
She should've been annoyed.
But her heart did that annoying flutter thing again.
Damn it.
As students filed out of the class, Elena remained seated a little longer, watching Julius walk away with that confident, careless stride. The whispers followed him—admiration, curiosity, envy.
And somewhere in that whirlwind of school hierarchy and golden boys, she sat, wondering when things had gotten this complicated.