His Perfect Enemy

NEW GIRL

There are many terrifying things about Eastridge High.

People say the place is full of secrets held by powerful students who come from equally powerful backgrounds that can tilt the balance of the world.

They’re not entirely wrong, I’ve done my homework.

But none of that compares to the reason I’m here, nor the terrible things I’m about to do.

Right before I can plug my earphones in, my dad’s driver hollers.

“Have a nice day, Deana!”

“I’ll try!” I replied just in time before he zoomed away.

Leaving me to the huge building that appears to be the replica of a museum but is instead a school.

Adjusting the bag on my shoulder, and plugging my earphones in, I walk the path of the car park where students are scattered in groups, whispering and assessing.

With Self by Khalid playing in my ears, I almost feel normal, settling in with my new reality in a new school.

This won’t be another school, because if everything goes according to plan with him, this will be the place everything changes.

While lost in the song, I notice the stares around me, the new girl effect, high schoolers finding a new piece of meat to prey upon.

Unfortunately for them, I’m not the predator here and will have my fun while hunting.

Suddenly, the crowd’s attention shifted, followed by their reaction like their eyes widening, and bodies stepping back.

Before I can process what’s going on, someone yanks me out of the way.

Almost immediately after, a car speeds past where I stood seconds ago, laughter spilling from inside like it’s all some kind of sick joke.

My heartbeat against my ribs as I rip my earphones out to see the owner of the grip that saved my life.

It belonged to a fairy looking girl with pink dyed hair and a dust of freckles covering her nose.

She stared at me with what looked like fear etched on her features, unnerving me.

“You should really watch where you’re going!”

“I was…” I snapped. “I just didn’t know they ran people over for entertainment here,” I blurted out, equally frightened.

The girl continued staring, taken aback by my outburst. Then she shook her head.

“Honestly you’re not at fault, only lunatics drive like that or someone who thinks he owns the asphalt in a school zone.”

Her gaze flickered to the red Ferrari car that’s now parked with a growing crowd surrounding it.

I followed her line of sight again, irritation simmering under my skin.

“Thank you for keeping me out of the way,” I exhale slowly.

“You’re welcome!” She smiled cheerily, her earlier tension melting into something bright.

“What’s your name? I haven’t seen you around.”

“Deana, I’m a junior transfer student.”

“Wow! We barely have transferees in Eastridge, unless you’re Einstein type of genius.”

“Something like that!” I said with a small shrug.

“Well, we’re definitely going to be good friends. I’m Brielle, also a junior.”

“Nice to meet you, Brielle.” I return the gesture, most of the nerves loosening.

We fell into step beside each other, heading toward the main building. The closer we got, the more the noise from the parking lot faded into the usual hum of school life.

But something about that red Ferrari car stuck with me, just before we rounded the corner, I glanced back to where my interest piqued, which ended up becoming a bad idea.

The driver had stepped out.

Even from a distance, the sight of him made something angry rile up in me.

Amongst the crowd, he stood out tall, pierced ear, with thick black hair tousled, a pair of shades which sat on his head, and a leather jacket that covered such broad shoulders.

People gathered around him, laughing, talking, but none of them stood too close, like his main role was to cause chaos while others dwell and thrive on it.

Somehow, from across the lot, his face angled in my direction like he knew someone was staring.

But before he could catch me, I averted my eyes quickly and continued on the way with Brielle by my side, ignoring the lunatic and his crew.

Yet the nape of my neck burned, similar to how I feel every time I knew someone was watching me.

No doubt, he had caught on, all the better.

“You don’t want to know him.”

“Who?”

“The red car guy…Kross Rivas.”

The name settled heavier than it should have.

“Why?” I ask simply.

“Maybe you almost became roadkill because of him. And the fact that he’s not someone you want to get involved with,” Brielle said carefully.

“People here either stay on his good side or stay out of his way.”

Interesting. “Good thing I’m not planning on doing either.”

Brielle stopped in her tracks. “What…you’re joking right?”

I only shrugged, dismissing the question before she could probe me further and continued walking.

We stepped into the main building, cool air brushing against my skin as the doors shut behind us.

The interior matched the outside, polished, expensive, and intimidating, especially with so many students crowding the hallway.

Aside from the ambience of the building, the students in the hall moved with purpose.

No loud chaos like in the parking lot, no unnecessary lingering and definitely more control.

Everything felt structured and ordered. This was his kind of place.

Brielle turned, giving me her full attention, “First thing’s first, I have AP English, but I’ll walk you to the admin’s office and your classes—”

She stopped mid sentence due to being tackled by a redhead beauty and a guy who appeared a minute later.

“Hey! You’re late,” the girl chastised, while Brielle fixed her hair.

“Now I’ll look unkempt when the love of my life sees me,” she drawled, quite offended.

“Deana meet Ronan,” she pointed to the guy who barely waved and gave the tortured poet vibe.

Then she pointed to the redhead, “and this is Samantha, his girlfriend and my bestfriend.”

“Nice to meet you, call me Sam,” she smiled, showing off her smiley piercing.

“Deana here is new and a junior transferee. Odd right?”

“Odd,” Ronan agreed, the first word he’ll say.

Not knowing what to say to that, I just smiled and faced Brielle. “You were saying?”

“Yes!” She quirked, finally letting her hair rest.

“I’ll take you to the admin’s office so you can pick up your schedule and…”

“OMG! Bri, it’s him.” Samantha shrieked, interrupting us again. I groan inwardly and turn to the direction she’s pointed at to see what has her panties in a knot.

Standing near a notice board, looking all cold and perfectly composed is Tobias Sterling.

Everything about him matched the name I’d memorized long before I stepped foot into this school.

The sole reason why I transferred to this school and the reason why my life had fallen apart.

Tobias f*****g Sterling.