CHAPTER SIX
1112 Words
Adinna’s POV
“Who the f**k poured milk on me?!” I shout again, my voice cracking across the courtyard. “Show yourself, you cowards!”
My words echo, sharp and desperate, but the only answer is a ripple of laughter in the distance.
Two boys stroll past, not even bothering to hide their grins. One glances at my dripping state and smirks.
“Doesn’t really matter who did it, does it?”?The other guy leans in, his tone lazy but cruel. “Everyone’s already called dibs on you.”
I blink, milk stinging my eyes. “What the hell does that even mean?”
“It means,” the first boy says, his grin widening, “we can do whatever the f**k we want with you. All of us.”
Their words chill me more than the milk dripping down my back. I stand there, drenched and humiliated, while they walk off laughing. The crowd around me scatters, but I can still feel their stares burning into me.
I swallow the lump in my throat, straighten my shoulders, and force myself to walk back to my dorm, each step squelching with milk-soaked shoes.
By the time I reach my room, the smell is unbearable. I peeled the uniform off my skin, disgusted, and tossed it into a corner like it was contaminated.
Riley glances up from her desk the moment she sees me. Her eyes widen in shock. “Adinna… oh no.”
“Don’t.” My voice cracks. I grab a towel, scrubbing furiously at my hair. “Just… don’t say it. I already know what you’re thinking.”
Her expression softens, but her eyes are grim.
I dump my bag on the floor and head straight to the bathroom.
I strip quickly, shoving the ruined clothes into a corner, and step under the shower. The first rush of warm water hits my skin and I sag against the tiles. Milk swirls around my feet as the water rinses it from my hair and body. My throat tightens with unshed tears, but I refuse to cry. Not for them.
Not for Jace and his pack of animals.
It takes longer than usual to feel clean. I scrub myself raw, shampoo twice, and only when I am sure every last drop was gone did I step out and wrap myself in a towel.
When I walk back into the room, dressed in clean clothes and with damp hair clinging to my cheeks, Riley is waiting. She looks at me with something that resembles pity, though her mouth is pressed in a firm line.
I pull on clean clothes, my hands still shaking with leftover rage. “I just hope tomorrow won’t be like this. Maybe they’ll get bored.”
Riley sighs heavily, as if the weight of the entire school presses against her shoulders. “You haven’t seen the last of it. Trust me.”
Her words echo in my chest long after I lay down that night.
The next morning, I wake up earlier than usual, determined not to look weak. I iron my uniform until there isn’t a crease in sight, brush my hair until it shone, and tie my laces with sharp precision. I tell myself I won’t let them win. If they want to humiliate me, I’ll face it with my head high.
But the moment I reach my locker, my stomach drops.
The stench hits me first, sour, rotten, foul enough to make my eyes water. I freeze, dread curling in my gut.
Slowly, I pull open the locker door.
Slime oozes down the shelves in thick green globs, coating every single one of my books. Something brown and sticky smeared across my notes. A foul-smelling liquid drips from the top, soaking into the sweater I’d folded neatly just yesterday.
My heart thuds in my chest. For a moment, I can’t even move. Then a broken laugh escapes my lips in part disbelief and part despair.
“Unbelievable.”
The hallway is nearly empty now as everyone is already in class. I shove the ruined books into my bag, gagging at the stench, and hurry down the hall.
By the time I push into the classroom, I am late.
The professor’s head snaps up, his eyes narrowing.
“Miss Adinna.” His voice was cold, clipped. “Late on your second day?”
I open my mouth. “Sir, someone trashed my locker. I was—”
He cuts me off sharply. “Excuses.” His voice cracks like a whip, silencing the room. “Stand outside.”
“But—”
“Not another word,” he snaps. “You will write me a five-page essay of apology. Due tomorrow. Do I make myself clear?”
Heat rushes up my neck. I want to scream that it isn’t fair, that I am not late because I am careless but because this school has turned into a nightmare. But the cold fury in his eyes make my words shrivel on my tongue.
“Yes, sir,” I mutter, shame burning my face.
I stand outside for what feels like an eternity, my mind racing. When he finally waves me back in, I take a deep breath, telling myself the worst was over.
I was wrong.
The moment I lower myself into my chair, there was a loud crack. The legs of the chair give way beneath me, collapsing instantly. I hit the floor hard, my books scattering across the tiles, laughter exploding around me like fireworks.
Pain shoots up my elbow where I’d hit the ground, but the humiliation hurt worse. I scramble to my feet, cheeks burning. My desk tips forward as well, the legs clearly loosened, sending the rest of my things sliding onto the floor in a messy heap.
My heart pounds. My breath comes out in short, sharp bursts.
“This is Jace’s handiwork!” I shout, glaring at the professor. “He and his gang are behind this!”
For a second, I think and hope he may help me. His eyes flick to the broken chair, then to my furious face. But instead of stepping in, instead of saying anything, he looks away.
Just like that. He simply adjusts his glasses and continues his lecture as though I didn’t exist.
The room erupts in laughter again, cruel and unrelenting.
I freeze, my chest tightening, my hands trembling as I stand there surrounded by mockery. That was the moment it hit me.
It isn’t just the students.
The teachers look away. The system looks away.
Jace and his gang control Lunareth Academy.
And I have just declared myself his enemy.
- Writer
