JAY'S POV — LUNCH ARRIVAL
The bell rang, but the usual chaos didn't follow.
Section E didn't move.
Not a single boy packed their lunch. Not a single one headed to the cafeteria. Sir Alvin's rule was clear: Section E stayed isolated until further notice. That meant everyone was trapped, simmering, watching, waiting.
I slung my bag over my shoulder and stepped out of the classroom. Boots clacked against the floor, echoing in the quiet corridor. Whispers followed me—fifteen pairs of eyes burning into my back.
Then I saw him.
Damian Herfgood.
A familiar face. My partner in mischief, my chaos counterpart. Ruthless for everyone else, but soft when it came to me. He leaned casually against the wall, holding a box like it was a trophy.
"Hey, troublemaker," he said with that crooked smile I knew too well.
I grinned back. "You always show up at the worst possible moment."
He shrugged, walking toward me. "Or the best."
We met in the middle of the hallway. The box in his hands went unnoticed for a second because I wrapped him in a hug, one arm tight around his shoulder.
"Lunch delivery?" I teased.
"Maybe," he said, tapping the box. "Depends if you're hungry for trouble or just food."
I laughed, pulling back slightly to look at him. "Both, obviously."
He handed me the box, and I opened it. Enough food for two, all packed perfectly, just how we liked it. Not the cafeteria slop. Not some half-hearted attempt at nutrition. This was good.
And all around us… the boys of Section E were watching. Cin, Rory, Edrix, Josh, Eman, Drew, Denzel, Blaster, Eren, Calix, Felix, Mayo, Kit, Yuri… every last one. Their eyes tracking our every move.
I didn't care.
Damian leaned close, whispering with a grin, "Looks like you've got quite the audience today."
I smirked, slipping an arm around his waist as we found a spot near the windows. "Let them watch. We'll have our fun anyway."
Section E might have rules. Section E might have chaos.
But we?
We wrote our own.
And lunch was just the beginning.
Damian and I had barely unpacked when a shadow fell across the table.
"Outsiders aren't allowed in this building," a low, calm voice said.
I didn't need to turn to know who it was.
Keifer.
He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes dark and unreadable. Every boy in Section E immediately went still, sensing the tension spike.
I arched an eyebrow. "Outsider?" I said evenly. "You mean the guy who actually brings good food?"
Damian smirked behind me, but I ignored him.
Keifer's jaw tightened. "This isn't a social hour. You know the rules. You shouldn't be here."
I tilted my head, leaning back slightly. "And you are… what? The fun police?"
"You know I don't make jokes," he said flatly.
"Neither do I," I replied, matching his calm. "But I make exceptions for friends."
The tension snapped into a quiet standoff. Damian chuckled softly and gave me a wink before starting to pack up the box.
"Lunch is over," he said, sliding the box shut. "Don't get used to me being generous."
I laughed lightly and gave him a small nod. "Message received."
Damian leaned in, whispering as he passed me the box. "You survived the president's glare. That's progress."
Before I could respond, he was gone—grinning, slinging the empty backpack over his shoulder, weaving through the corridor like he owned it.
I watched him go, feeling the weight of fifteen pairs of eyes still on me all of them staring as if they'd just witnessed some unspoken challenge.
By the time classes ended, I was walking toward my car. Boots echoing against the corridor, hands in my pockets, the box of lunch long gone.
The school lot opened up, and I slid into my McLaren. Sleek, low, and dangerous in its own right.
Every single boy from Section E saw me leave.
Every single one of them remembered it.
And I didn't bother hiding the smirk that tugged at my lips as I drove off.
Because in Section E… rules were made to be challenged. And I was only getting started....
JAY'S POV — A WEEK LATER
A week had passed.
Section E had tried everything.
Cin glued my chair to the floor. I lifted it, ripped the skirt just enough to get a grip, and slid it aside. Rory set up a "surprise" on my desk. I had a backup notebook ready—everything intact, pristine. Blaster cornered me in the hallway. I shifted, just enough, and he stumbled into the wall.
Every attempt to scare me, to humiliate me, to make me leave, failed.
By midweek, their tactics shifted. Instead of pranks, they ignored me. Silent treatment. Whispers behind hands. Sidestepping me in the hall. Section E had decided that if they couldn't break me, they could at least pretend I didn't exist.
I noticed it immediately. Even the smallest interactions—Yuri walking beside Keifer, Felix nudging Calix, even Mayo's dumb grin—turned into subtle avoidance. The chaos I thrived on was gone, replaced by a cold, quiet battlefield.
It would have been frustrating for anyone else.
Not for me.
I walked into the room that Friday morning, boots clicking against the floor, and felt it—the collective tension, the unspoken acknowledgment. They had given up trying to challenge me directly.
Perfect.
Section E thought ignoring me would win. But I had patience. I had preparation. I had strategy.
And they were all about to learn that survival in Section E wasn't about being loud or violent.
It was about being unstoppable.
I smirked, adjusting the edges of my blazer. Let them hide. Let them whisper. Let them underestimate me.
Because I had a week of observation, a week of memorizing patterns, a week of planning.
And when the time came, Section E would realize that their "ignored" girl had already taken control.
I was ready.
Always ready.
JAY'S POV — KEIFER CORNERS HER
The room felt smaller, tighter. Every whisper, every shuffling movement seemed amplified, echoing in the silence I created simply by standing there.
Keifer moved in front of me, slow, deliberate, a predator asserting dominance. Arms crossed over his chest, shoulders squared, his tall frame leaning slightly forward, just enough to corner me without a word of threat.
His eyes—dark, unreadable, cold as midnight—pinned me in place. Most people would have faltered under that gaze. Most people would have wilted, hearts pounding, bodies shrinking. Not me.
"Rules here are simple, Mariano," he said, his voice low, deliberate, carrying the weight of authority that made even the air seem heavy.
"Follow them. Run errands. Do what's expected. Don't make waves."
The boys around us perked up instantly. Cin leaned back, smirking like he'd already predicted the outcome.
Rory whispered under his breath, half-laughing, half-snarling.
Edrix and Blaster exchanged sleazy grins. Denzel's eyebrows rose.
Even some of the quieter ones—josh, Mayo—leaned forward, curious. They all assumed the same thing: she's a girl. She'll crack. She'll flinch. She'll play their game.
I didn't.
I let it build. Let them all believe they had me cornered. The tension was a living thing, thick and electric, humming through the classroom like a storm waiting to break.
Keifer's presence pressed against me, calculated, suffocating, trying to demand compliance without lifting a finger. Most would submit. Most would bow. I didn't.
Then I leaned in.
Slow. Confident. Predatory. My smirk was no longer playful—it was dangerous, dark, magnetic. A grin that dared him to challenge it. My eyes locked with his, steady, unblinking, unafraid, radiating quiet power and untamed control.
"You think I'll follow your rules, Watson?"
I whispered, my voice low, smooth, dripping with challenge. "Sweetheart… maybe you should learn whose rules we really obey."
The shift was immediate and palpable. The air tightened. Cin's smirk faltered.
Rory froze mid-whisper. Edrix and Blaster went still, uncertainty creeping into their faces.
Even the quietest boys held their breath, sensing the silent command I radiated.
Keifer's jaw tightened. His dark eyes flashed—not just with irritation, but with interest, the first crack in his armor.
He had expected fear.
He had expected hesitation.
What he hadn't expected was calm, precision, and the kind of confidence that could swallow him whole.
I straightened, letting the smirk linger, the kind of smirk that promised danger, control, and power.
Every movement, every tilt of my head, every inch of posture screamed:
I do not fear you. I do not yield. I am not just surviving Section E. I dominate it quietly, efficiently, without needing to shout.
The classroom had gone still. Even Sir Alvin, standing at the back, paused and observed, his calm eyes reflecting quiet acknowledgment: She's not just surviving. She's asserting.
Keifer's presence remained, but the balance had shifted. He was no longer entirely in control.
I could feel it—subtle, almost imperceptible, but there. And I let it linger. I let every boy in the room feel it.
Every glance at me now carried a warning, unspoken: this girl doesn't break. She bends nothing. She obeys no one.
And if Keifer wanted a war of dominance… he had just stepped into darkness that didn't bow, didn't flinch, didn't negotiate.
Section E had never seen anyone like me.
And Keifer… he was about to learn exactly how lethal a shadow could be when it decided to move....