Chapter 4: Lunch Money and Late Drawings
The school tuck shop buzzed with chatter and the clatter of trays, but Theo wasn't hungry—not really. He patted his pockets, heart sinking as he realized the harsh truth: no lunch money. In his mad dash this morning, he'd left it on the kitchen counter back at his cramped apartment.
"Wow," he muttered to himself, voice dripping with sarcasm. "This is turning out to be a great day."
The brightly colored snacks and overpriced sodas blurred past him as he pushed through the crowd of students. No one glanced his way, no one cared. He was just another face in the sea of designer bags and flawless uniforms.
With no appetite for judgment or processed food, Theo slipped away and ducked into an empty classroom down the hall.
The stale smell of chalk dust and forgotten lessons wrapped around him like an old blanket, oddly comforting in a world that felt otherwise cold and sharp.
From his bag, he pulled out a battered notebook and a stubby pencil, flipping it open to a blank page. The lines started to take shape—dark, twisted strokes that formed a creepy figure lurking in shadow. The creature seemed almost alive, its eyes hollow but watching.
He chuckled, a low, amused sound that echoed softly in the empty room. "Hahaha… what is that?"
Satisfied, he snapped a photo and quickly sent it to Lily, along with a text: "Look, I was drawing while thinking of you and made this."
No reply.
Probably buried in her own school chaos.
Theo shrugged and returned to his sketch, lost in the scratch of pencil on paper.
The tension in his shoulders eased for a moment as his fingers danced across the page.
Just then, the door creaked open. A boy stepped inside, eyes widening slightly when he saw Theo.
"Oh, sorry," the newcomer said, voice casual but curious. "I thought this room was empty."
Theo looked up, flashing a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Nah, you can stay."
The boy relaxed and crossed the room, offering a hand. "Simon. Business class."
Theo shook it, returning the gesture with a nod. "Theo. Art class."
Simon glanced down at the notebook, tilting his head. "Cool drawing. Dark stuff."
Theo grinned. "Yeah, it's my kind of vibe."
They shared a moment of quiet camaraderie, an unexpected pause in the storm of their first days.
For a few minutes, the empty classroom felt like a safe space—a brief shelter from the chaos outside.
---
But peace never lasted long.
The door slammed open again, this time with a swaggering confidence that filled the room.
A group of boys burst in—designer jackets, expensive watches, and smirks carved from entitlement. They were the kind of rich kids who walked like they owned every inch of the school, and they clearly thought Theo was beneath their notice.
One of them, tall with a sharp jaw and a sneer that could curdle milk, sniffed the air and spat, "Damn, it smells like broke in here."
Theo didn't look up. He kept drawing, the pencil gliding over the page with steady strokes.
The tall boy—Ash, Theo would learn—stepped closer and snatched the notebook from Theo's hands.
"What's this? Some sad little doodles?" Ash mocked, flipping through the pages carelessly.
Theo's eyes narrowed into slits. "Give it back."
Ash laughed, a low, cruel sound, before ripping a page out with a satisfying tear.
Theo smiled coldly, teeth clenched. "You're an idiot."
Before anyone could blink, Theo's fist shot out—a sharp, clean jab straight to Ash's face.
The room froze.
The ripped page fluttered to the floor, forgotten for the moment.
"Yo, Ash, you good?" one of the boys called out, eyes wide as they watched their leader stumble, rubbing his jaw.
Ash growled, the sting evident. "This bitch punched me."
Theo didn't flinch. His chest rose and fell with slow, controlled breaths.
Before the tension could explode, the door slammed open again, this time revealing Ms. Carmichael.
Her gaze was sharp and unyielding as she took in the scene: the ripped page, the hurt boy, the defiant newcomer.
"What's going on here?" she demanded, voice cold but controlled.
The rich boys straightened up, masking their surprise with forced innocence.
Theo met her eyes, unflinching.
Ms. Carmichael's gaze flicked between Theo and Ash.
"Is this how you behave?" she asked Ash sharply.
Ash opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by a sharp glance from Ms. Carmichael.
She turned to Theo. "And you, Mr. Valtez, this isn't the way to handle conflicts."
Theo's jaw tightened but he stayed silent.
The classroom's murmurs grew louder, eyes shifting between the teacher and the two boys.
Ms. Carmichael sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Everyone back to class. Ash, see me after school."
The group muttered but left without another word.
Simon clapped Theo on the shoulder, a small grin breaking through the tension.
"Nice punch."
Theo smirked. "Thanks. Might need to work on my aim."
The room settled back into its quiet hum, but Theo knew the storm was far from over.