I was just lazily standing by my locker, casually pulling out books and trying to look invisible—like a pro at blending into the background. Suddenly, I heard footsteps approaching, and my stomach sank.
"Oh my god… No, ah..." I muttered under my breath. I knew who it was. The mean girls. I had to run, but it was already too late. They had already spotted me.
"Oh, Pauper," Regina sneered, rolling her eyes. "I'm not sure how you even got into this school, but I'm not liking you."
I rolled my eyes back and tried to brush past her. "Regina, just go and leave me alone," I said, shooing her with my hand. I thought I was in the clear as I walked away, past her, feeling a tiny bit victorious—until everything changed.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, I felt a grip on my ponytail—that's right, my AWESOME ponytail—and before I knew it, I was yanked backward and slammed onto the ground with a loud thud.
"Hey!" I shouted, trying to sit up, but the chaos had just begun.
Next thing I knew, the mean girls were giggling mischievously and pouring juice all over me—red, sticky juice splattering everywhere, drenching my clothes and soaking my hair. I looked like I'd just walked through a rainbow of fruit punch.
They laughed even harder as one of them kicked my bag, which flew open, and all my notebooks and pens spilled out onto the hallway floor. I tried to kick back at them, but they just backed away, still laughing.
Finally, they strutted off, leaving me sitting there, drenched and miserable. I looked down and saw I was all wet, my clothes sticking to me like I'd just been dunked in a pool. Great. Just what I needed.
I sighed, picking up my soggy books and trying to wipe juice off my face. Well, that was one more unforgettable school day.
So, I decided to make a beeline for the bathroom. Honestly, yesterday already felt weird enough—like, if I thought about it too much, my brain would probably start doing somersaults and refuse to come back. So, yeah, I just went straight to the bathroom, because thinking is overrated.
Once inside, I kicked off my shirt and left only my half-vest—black, of course, because I like to keep it classy even when soaked in juice. I then proceeded to let my hair down—literally—and started washing it under the tap.
"Oh, so annoying," I muttered, scrubbing my hair with all the drama of a soap opera star. "I swear, one day Regina is going to eat mud. Just you wait." I sighed dramatically as I grabbed the towel—an old, slightly frayed one that the school kept for emergencies. It's probably the same towel the school used to keep for students who needed it, you know, because they're rich and think they're fancy.
There's also shampoo, soap, and even a little shower if you're feeling extra. But no way am I taking a bath in this public toilet. Nope, not my style.
Just as I thought I was alone, I heard the door creak open. And there he was—Ethan. Coming inside the bathroom, casually running a hand through his messy hair like he just finished a workout or escaped from a shampoo commercial.
When he saw me, he froze like a deer caught in headlights. His eyes widened so much I thought they might pop out. That's when I realized I was caught in a very awkward situation.
My eyes widened too, and I clutch my chest like I'd just seen a ghost. "Hey! What are you doing in the girl's bathroom?" I shouted, pointing at him like he was some sneaky spy who infiltrated enemy territory.
He blinked at me, then looked at the sign on the door that clearly said Male's Bathroom. His face went from "I'm cool" to "Oh no, I've messed up."
"No, I must save eight seasons of my favorite show," he said, almost calmly, despite looking like he'd just been caught robbing a bank. "I mean… you're the one in the guy's bathroom," he added, waving vaguely at the sign.
My face went pale—probably because I'd just realized I'd been caught in a very awkward situation. My brain was trying to process: Did I just walk into the wrong bathroom? Or did Ethan walk into the wrong bathroom? Or maybe we both did.
Without thinking, I bolted out of there faster than a squirrel on caffeine, heart pounding like I'd just run a marathon. Ethan called after me, his tone sharp but surprisingly kind.
"Ayana," he said, sounding almost like he cared, "wear this. You'll catch a cold."
And before I could even protest, he handed me a giant sweater—seriously, it looked like it belonged to a giant. Probably he'd grabbed it because he thought I'd need something extra warm or maybe because he just wanted to see me in a big, cozy sweater.
He simply turned and walked away, leaving me standing there clutching this sweater, feeling like I'd just been part of a very weird sitcom episode.
-----------------
Back at home, I was totally not there—just busy telling everyone my epic story or whatever. Anyway, that's not everything about me. So, cut to the cafeteria.
Mark, Ethan, Liam, and my annoying brother Jake were sitting at a table. My brother had this mischievous teasing smile, Liam was rummaging through his bag like he was searching for buried treasure, Mark was lost in a book (probably about quantum physics or something equally nerdy), and Ethan? Well, Ethan was as uninterested as ever—like he was secretly bored of the whole universe.
Suddenly, Liam smacks the table so hard it makes everyone jump.
"What's up? Chill, bro," Jake said, already catching his breath from the scare.
Liam, wide-eyed, asks, "Where is my homework?" and throws his bag aside dramatically, like he's tossing a grenade.
"I didn't see it anywhere," Liam added, giving a look that said, It's not my fault!
Mark, flipping a page lazily, said, "Calm down. Remember? It's with our class captain, Ayana."
Yeah, I forgot to mention—I am the class captain. Guess who's the vice? Some dude. Probably the guy who's good at hiding.
"Oh, right... it's with Ayana," Liam said, finally relaxing a little.
Jake, crossing his arms like he's the boss of everything, snarks, "Honestly, since when do you care about assignments? You just pay ten bucks to the nerdiest kid in school to do it for you."
Everyone's eyes turn to Liam, waiting for his reaction. He just sighs, puts a hand behind his head, and casually says, "Actually... this time, I paid twenty."
Everyone nods like they've just discovered the secret to the universe.
Meanwhile, I walk by, holding my tray—empty, of course. I'm wearing my classic nerdy outfit: a cozy oversized cardigan, high-waisted jeans, suspenders, and my trusty glasses still intact, with my hair styled into a neat ponytail—yay!
I decide to go and set my tray down, but their table is close to the counter. So, I have to walk past them.
Ah...shit.
I try my best to walk casually, doing my best not to catch their attention. But surprise! Liam spots me and calls out, "Ayana! I heard your homework's with us!"
I freeze like a deer caught in headlights. Oh, Liam… why did you have to do this?
I plaster on a fake smile and turn around. "Yes, Liam. I gave it to the teacher," I say, trying to sound casual as I start to walk away.
But Jake, always with the genius plans, chimes in with a teasing grin, "Don't you think you should dress more like the other girls?"
What? Really?
Liam, ever the defender, winks and says, "What? I like the way she dresses. It's cute."
Liam, please.
Mark nods, smirking, and adds, "Yeah, all those rich girls are just pretty faces without brains. Better to date a monkey."
He's flipping through his book like he just delivered a life lesson. Ethan? Well, Ethan just nods, eyes tired and expressionless, but with a tiny smirk that says, Been there, seen that.
I snap at Jake, narrowing my eyes as if I'm about to unleash my ninja powers.
"If you'd buy me clothes, I'd wear them," I say, "but I like me this way."
They always find a way to tease me.
Jake sneers, "Okay, dimwit. Next time, say something mean back."
And everyone in the cafeteria bursts into laughter. I feel my cheeks turn hotter than a microwave.
But I don't fight or say anything. I just turn around and walk away, internally plotting my not-so-murderous revenge.