HIGHSCHOOL MYSTERY

Olivia Tran's rule #1: stay invisible, invisible people don't get hurt. The unwritten rules of Franklin High weren't posted on bulletin board or printed in the students handbook. they were passed down like sacred texts, whispered in hallway and reinforced with every lunch table setting arrangement. freshman learned them fast. Sophomores memorize them. Juniors upheld them. And seniors? seniors rule by them I have spent the past Three years following these rules to the letter. Never sit in the first role unless you want to be called on. Never cut through the senior Courtyard unless you want your backpack mysteriously filled with ketchup packet. And never, ever draw attention to yourself unless you're ready for war which is why I was fully prepared to murder Mr Callahan "Olivia Tran and Wes Carter " he announced reading from a clipboard. "you'll be partners for the senior Capstone project " I froze in my seat There had to be a mistake. A glitch in the universe. some cruel trick of fate Because Wes Carter wasn't just anyone he was the Wes Carter - Franklin High golden boy, the guy who threw the best parties, won every football games and could probably get away with setting the cafeteria on fire if he smiled about it afterwards And me? I was the girl no one noticed. The one who sat in the back of the class and whose biggest accomplishment was avoiding direct eye contact with anyone remotely popular. I dared to sneak a glance at him, he was slouched in his chair, spinning a pen between his fingers like he couldn't care less. But when he looked up and caught me staring, he raised an eyebrow smirked. Panic coiled in my stomach No. Nope. Not happening "Um Mr Callahan?" I raised my hand, my voice careful, polite " could I maybe switch partners Mr Callahan peered at me over his glasses "no" "but_" " you'll be working with Wes and that's final. the goal of this project is to push you out from your comfort zones " he gestured around the room" I paired everyone based on strength and weaknesses " I glance at Wes again. what strength was he supposed to bring? Party planning? Wes, on the other hand, didn't seem bothered in the slightest. he leaned back in his chair, arms folded, like he was amused by my obvious distress "don't worry, Tran " he said flashing a grin that had probably melted the hearts of half and cheer squad "I don't bite" I clenched my jaw I was doomed Chapter 2: The Art of disappearing (and failing miserably ) Wes Carter was a problem A big problem. and if there was one thing I avoided at all costs, It was problems After class I practically sprinted to my locker hoping -praying- that Wes would forget all about the project. maybe he'd decide he was too cool to work with me and tell Mr Callahan he was dropping the class. Maybe a freak tornado would hit Franklin High and spare me from this nightmare. I was half way through shoving my books into my backpack when a voice interrupted my wishfull thinking. " so, what's the plan, partner?" I jumped and slammed my locker shut Wes was leaning against the row of lockers, hands in his pocket, watching me like I was some sort of fascinating experiment. I grip my back strap like it was a lifeline "Uh...plan?" " for the capstone" he titled his head. "you do have a plan don't you?" of course I had a plan, I had Three different plans, color-coded and cross-reference with potential research sources. But I wasn't about to tell him that instead, I cleared my throat. " I was thinking we could just... split the work. you do your half, I do mine, and we don't actually have to meet up" Wes grinned like he'd expected that answer " yeah , see, that's not really my style " I exhaled slowly. of course it's not. " I don't do the whole, 'silent partner' thing"he continued " so how about we actually talk about it ?" I glance down the hallway, calculating the best escape route. Maybe if I pretend I have a club meeting. he'd leave me alone. but before I could lie my way out of this, someone called Wes's name "Yo, Carter!" A group of guys in Franklin high football jacket sauntered towards us. Great, as if this situation wasn't already painful, now I have an audience. One of them_luke, if I remember correctly_ grinned at Wes, then turned his attention to me, his expression flickered between surprise and confusion, like he couldn't comprehend why Wes was standing here talking to me, of all people. " didn't think nerds and jocks did group project together," Luke said smirking " what's next? are you two gonna start sitting together at lunch?" The other guy laughed, I felt my face heat up Wes however didn't even flinch. He just shrugged "maybe" I stiffened " no " The laughter doubled. one of the guy clapped Wes on his back " Man, I can't wait to see how this turns out And just like that, they walked off, leaving me standing there, glaring at Wes like he'd just set my backpack on fire He smiled, completely unfazed " that went well" I exhaled sharply " look i don't know what your deal is but I just want to get this project done, with as little interaction as possible" Wes pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense " wow. and here I thought we were bonding" I shot him a withering look " library tomorrow. after school. be there or don't, I don't care" then before he could flash that infuriating grin again, I turned my heels and walked away. Chapter 3: unavailable disaster The next day, I arrived at the library fifteen minutes early. Not because I was eager to work with Wes Carter—God, no—but because I needed a solid strategy for handling this disaster. I took a seat at my usual table near the back, away from the louder study groups. I pulled out my laptop, opened a fresh Google Doc, and typed the title of our project: " social structure in modern high schools" It was the perfect topic. Simple, straightforward, and completely within my comfort zone. I had just started outlining our research plan when a chair scraped against the floor. “Wow, you weren’t kidding,” Wes said as he sat down across from me. “You really don’t waste time, huh?” I looked up, surprised he actually showed. I had half expected him to ditch. Instead, he had a coffee in one hand, a lazy smirk on his face, and not a single notebook in sight. I resisted the urge to sigh. “We have a deadline, and I don’t like wasting time.” “Noted.” He leaned back in his chair, stretching out like he had all the time in the world. “So, what’s the plan, boss?” I pushed my laptop toward him. “I already outlined the research. If we divide the work evenly, we won’t even have to meet that often.” Wes scanned the document, his expression unreadable. Then, to my absolute horror, he grinned. “Yeah, no,” he said, leaning forward. “We’re gonna need a new topic.” I blinked. “What?” “This is boring.” He gestured at the screen. “Social structures? You mean, like, cliques and lunch tables? No one cares about that.” I clenched my jaw. “Actually, a lot of people care. It’s sociology. Human behavior.” “Exactly,” Wes said. “So why don’t we do something actually interesting?” I folded my arms. “Like what?” His eyes gleamed. “Like breaking the system.” I stared. “Breaking what?” “The rules. The social structure.” He leaned in, lowering his voice like he was letting me in on a secret. “What if, instead of just studying it, we mess with it? Do things no one expects? Test what happens when we break the unwritten rules?” I blinked. “That’s not how research works.” “Sure it is. It’s experimental research.” I wanted to argue. I really did. But the way he said it—like it was the most obvious thing in the world—made me hesitate. He must have noticed, because his grin widened. “Come on, Tran. You can’t tell me you don’t want to see what happens when we shake things up.” I absolutely did not want to see what happened. That sounded like chaos. But before I could tell him no, Wes leaned back with a casual shrug. “Or, we can just write another boring paper that no one will remember.” My fingers twitched against the table. I hated him. Hated how he made it sound like I was afraid. Like I was some dull, predictable robot. I wasn’t afraid. I just liked order. Control. But the worst part? Somewhere, deep down, a small part of me did wonder what would happen if we broke the rules. And that was dangerous. Chapter 4 : The first rule we break By the time I left the library, I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. Wes Carter was a walking disaster, and I had just agreed—however reluctantly—to let him drag me into one. I spent the rest of the night convincing myself that he wouldn’t actually follow through. He’d get bored, forget about it, and we’d end up writing the paper like normal, and this whole “breaking the rules” thing would never happen. Then the next morning, he proved me completely wrong. I was at my locker, switching out my books for first period, when I felt a presence behind me. “Morning, partner.” I sighed before even turning around. “What do you want, Carter?” “I came to make good on our experiment.” He leaned against the locker next to mine, looking far too pleased with himself. “We’re breaking our first rule today.” I closed my locker and gave him a flat look. “What rule?” He grinned. “You’re sitting at my lunch table.” I stared at him. Blinked. “No.” “Yes.” “Absolutely not.” “Come on, Tran.” He crossed his arms. “You said you were in.” “No, you said I was in. I was considering it.” “And now you’re doing it.” He pushed off the locker. “It’s a perfect first test. You, a nerd, sitting with me, a jock, at the popular table? People will lose their minds.” “Exactly,” I said. “Which is why it’s a terrible idea.” “It’s harmless,” he argued. “No laws broken, no crimes committed. Just lunch. What’s the worst that could happen?” I opened my mouth to list at least five things that could go horribly wrong, but before I could, Wes took a step closer. “Look, you want to study social structures? Let’s actually test them,” he said, his voice almost… persuasive. “One lunch. That’s it. Then we observe the fallout.” I hesitated. This was stupid. So stupid. But at the same time… if we were actually going to do this project the way he wanted, we had to start somewhere. And maybe, maybe, it wouldn’t be as bad as I imagined. “…Fine,” I muttered. “One lunch. That’s it.” His grin was infuriating. “That’s the spirit.” I had no idea what I’d just gotten myself. Chapter 5 : The lunch table take over Lunch at Franklin High was more than just a meal. It was a battlefield. There were unspoken rules about who sat where, who talked to whom, and who never crossed certain lines. It had been this way forever. And now, thanks to Wes Carter and his terrible ideas, I was about to break one of the biggest rules of all. I stood at the edge of the cafeteria, gripping my lunch tray like a lifeline. My usual table—the one tucked near the library hallway, safely out of sight—was right there. I could just walk over, sit down, and pretend none of this was happening. But Wes was already heading toward the popular table, where Franklin High’s social elite were gathered. Athletes, cheerleaders, people with thousands of i********: followers. People who had never once acknowledged my existence. He glanced back at me, flashing that signature smirk. “You coming, Tran?” I took a deep breath. One lunch. That’s it. I forced my feet forward, feeling the weight of a hundred curious stares as I followed Wes through the cafeteria. Conversations quieted. Heads turned. By the time we reached the table, I could practically hear the collective What the hell? radiating from every corner of the room. Luke—the same football player who had mocked me the other day—looked up from his tray, frowning. “Dude, what’s this?” Wes dropped his tray onto the table and sat down like it was nothing. “This,” he said, gesturing to me, “is Olivia. She’s sitting with us today.” Silence. Then, a blonde girl—Brielle Summers, cheer captain, and possibly the scariest person at Franklin High—arched an eyebrow. “Is this a joke?” I stiffened, my grip tightening on my tray. Wes just shrugged. “No joke. Just shaking things up.” Luke let out a laugh. “Since when do nerds sit with us?” My stomach twisted. I knew this was a bad idea. I should have walked away the second Wes suggested it. But then he did something I didn’t expect. He turned to Luke and raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you decide who sits here?” Luke faltered. “I—” “That’s what I thought.” Wes kicked out the chair next to him, nodding at me. “Sit.” I hesitated. Then, before I could talk myself out of it, I slid into the seat. For a few seconds, no one spoke. Then, slowly, conversations resumed. People still stole glances at me, but the initial shock was fading. I exhaled, trying to ignore the way my heart was pounding. Wes leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “See? Not so bad.” I shot him a glare. “I hate you.” He grinned. “You’re welcome.” I had no idea what kind of chaos this would unleash. But one thing was clear—Wes Carter didn’t just break the rules. He rewrote them. Chapter 6: the fallout By the time lunch was over, I had made three shocking discoveries. one: The popular table ate insanely expensive food. While I had my usual turkey sandwich, Brielle had sushi, Luke had some kind of gourmet burger, and Wes? Wes had an entire plate of fries that he had somehow not paid for. Two: Sitting with the cool kids didn’t mean they’d suddenly accept me. Brielle ignored me entirely, Luke made sure to direct every joke at me, and the others just seemed confused by my presence. Wes was the only one acting like this was normal, which, for him, it probably was. Three: This was officially the worst decision I had ever made. The moment the lunch bell rang, I shot out of my seat, eager to escape. But before I could disappear into the hall, I heard Brielle’s voice behind me. “So, Wes, what’s the deal? Charity work?” I froze. Wes, who had been finishing off the last of his fries, looked up lazily. “What?” Brielle gestured toward me. “This. Is this, like, a bet or something?” I turned around, pulse spiking. A few people at the table chuckled. Luke smirked. I had been expecting reactions, but hearing it said out loud—like I was some kind of joke—still stung. Wes, however, just rolled his eyes. “Nah, just shaking things up.” Brielle scoffed. “Well, shake somewhere else.” She looked at me for the first time all lunch, her expression unreadable. “No offense, but this table isn’t really… your vibe.” I clenched my fists, heat rising to my face. No offense? That was peak offensive. I turned on my heel and walked away before I could say something I’d regret. I expected Wes to stay behind, to keep playing the part of Franklin High royalty. But to my surprise, a few seconds later, I heard his footsteps fall into step beside mine. “Hey,” he said. I kept walking. “Save it, Carter.” He let out a low chuckle. “Brielle’s just—” “Brielle’s just saying what everyone else is thinking,” I snapped, rounding on him. “This was a bad idea. I knew it was a bad idea, and I did it anyway.” His smirk faded. I took a breath, forcing my voice to steady. “Experiment over. We tried, we saw the results, now we move on.” Wes studied me for a moment. “You sure?” “Yes.” He nodded slowly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Alright.” I didn’t wait for him to say anything else. I turned and walked away, determined to erase this entire day from my memory. But the damage was already done. By the time I reached my next class, my phone buzzed. I pulled it out, heart sinking. New notification: @franklin Tea tagged you in a post. I clicked on it. And there it was—a blurry, zoomed-in photo of me at the popular table, captioned: "Olivia Tran at the cool kids table ??? what's the tea?! 👀☕” The comments were already flooding in. I swallowed hard. So much for staying invisible. Chapter 7: viral disaster By the time I got home that evening, the post had exploded. @franklin Tea wasn’t just any gossip account—it was the gossip account. Nobody knew who ran it, but everyone followed it. If your name showed up there, you were officially part of Franklin High’s social circus. And now, thanks to one very bad lunch decision, I was the main attraction. I sat on my bed, scrolling through the comments. @JessLuvsDrama: Wait, when did Olivia Tran get invited to the cool kids' table?! @GameOnLuke: Not invited. She just… showed up. @BrielleS: Not her thinking she belongs there lol. @WesCarter22: Chill. It’s just lunch. I blinked. Wes commented? I clicked on the thread. More replies flooded in. @LivBooks: Maybe she’s tutoring Wes? @TheRealJenna: Lmao a nerd and a jock? What is this, a rom-com? @WesCarter22: Just a social experiment, guys. Relax. A cold weight settled in my stomach. A social experiment. That was all I was to him. A test subject. I knew that. I agreed to that. But seeing him say it so casually, like I was some kind of science project, made my face burn. I threw my phone onto the bed and flopped back with a groan. This was exactly why I avoided people like Wes Carter. This was exactly why I stayed invisible. And now, thanks to one stupid lunch, everyone at Franklin High was watching me. I wasn’t sure how much worse it could get. Chapter 8: damage control By the next morning, the damage was done. Walking into school felt like stepping onto a stage where I was the punchline of a joke I hadn’t asked to be part of. People whispered. Some just stared. Others—mostly the ones who lived for Franklin High gossip—smirked as I passed by. And then there were the questions. “So… are you and Wes, like, a thing?” “Did he lose a bet?” “Are you tutoring him or dating him?” “Did you pay to sit there?” I clenched my jaw and kept walking, ignoring every single one of them. If I stayed quiet, if I just kept my head down, this whole mess would blow over. At least, that’s what I thought—until I got to my locker. Wes was already there, leaning against it like he belonged there. He grinned when he saw me. “Morning, Tran.” I stopped in my tracks. “No. Absolutely not.” His smile didn’t fade. “No what?” “No you standing here, acting like we’re friends.” I pointed around us. “Do you see what’s happening? People are watching. Talking. This is exactly what I was trying to avoid.” Wes glanced around, completely unfazed. “Relax. It’s just a little attention.” I wanted to throw my textbook at him. “That’s exactly the problem.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, look. I get it. You hate this. But maybe there’s a way to use it.” I narrowed my eyes. “Use it for what?” He grinned. “To prove our theory.” I groaned. “Oh my God, no.” “Yes,” he said, ignoring me. “Think about it. One lunch—one—and people are acting like you walked on water. This just proves how ridiculous high school social rules are. We can push it further.” I slammed my locker shut. “There is no we, Carter.” “There is if you actually want to finish this project.” I turned to face him. “We can write a paper without turning me into a social experiment.” “But where’s the fun in that?” I glared. “I don’t do fun. I do grades.” Wes crossed his arms, looking way too amused. “Okay, fine. What if I told you that if you help me with this, I’ll help you?” I frowned. “Help me with what?” He smirked. “You like control, right? Order? You want people to stop talking about you?” I stayed silent. “Well, I know how to control a narrative.” He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “We turn this into something we own. Give them a story that works for us, not against us. Then, when we’re done, we drop it. Simple.” I stared at him. “You’re insane.” “Maybe.” He shrugged. “But I’m also right.” I wanted to argue. Really, I did. But the problem was… Wes was right. This wasn’t going away on its own. People already believed something was going on between us. I could either fight it—or I could use it. I hated the idea. But I hated being the joke of Franklin High even more. I exhaled sharply. “Fine.” Wes grinned. “Fine?” “One week. We control the story, then we end it.” I jabbed a finger at his chest. “No chaos. No surprises.” He held up his hands. “Scout’s honor.” I sighed, already regretting everything. This was a mistake. Chapter 9: The fake relationship rulebook If I was going to survive this, I needed rules. By the time lunch rolled around, I had drafted a mental list of conditions for this ridiculous arrangement. No unnecessary attention. No dragging me into drama. No actual changes to my life. Unfortunately, Wes Carter had other ideas. “Alright, Tran,” he said, dropping into the seat across from me in the library. “Let’s talk strategy.” I barely looked up from my laptop. “There is no strategy.” “Of course there is.” He leaned back, propping his feet up on the chair beside me. “If we’re going to sell this, we need to make it look real.” I set my hands on the keyboard and gave him a deadpan stare. “We don’t need to ‘sell’ anything, because there is nothing.” Wes smirked. “Try telling that to the entire school.” I scowled but said nothing. He had a point. “Alright,” he said, tapping his fingers on the table. “First things first—establishing the narrative. We need a believable backstory.” I crossed my arms. “Why?” “Because people are going to ask, and if we don’t have answers, they’ll make up their own.” I hated how logical that sounded. I sighed. “Fine. What’s our story?” He grinned like he had been waiting for this moment. “Simple. We started talking because of our project, we realized we actually get along, and now we’re seeing where things go.” I narrowed my eyes. “That sounds like the plot of a bad romance movie.” “Exactly.” He winked. “People eat that stuff up.” I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue. “Now, next question—how public are we going with this?” “We’re not.” Wes laughed. “See, that’s the thing. If we completely ignore it, people will just speculate harder. We need to give them just enough to satisfy the curiosity, then let it die.” I exhaled sharply, pressing my fingers against my temples. This was exhausting. “Fine,” I muttered. “Minimal public interaction. No grand gestures. No drama. Just… subtle reinforcement.” Wes nodded, looking surprisingly serious. “Deal.” I hesitated before adding, “And we stop if it gets out of control.” He held out a pinky. “Swear it.” I blinked. “Are you seriously pinky promising me right now?” “Do you want a legally binding contract?” he asked, smirking. “Because I can draft one, but this is faster.” I rolled my eyes but reluctantly linked my pinky with his. Chapter 10: The first test By the next morning, the rumors had evolved. What started as "Did you see Olivia at the popular table?" had morphed into full-blown conspiracy theories. @FranklinTea: So is it official? Wes Carter and Olivia Tran—Franklin High’s most unexpected couple?! 👀🔥 #NerdMeetJocks #UnexpectedShips The comments were a mess. @JessLuvsDrama: I KNEW IT!!! @GameOnLuke: Nah, Wes is definitely messing with her. @BrielleS: Girl, be fr. @LivBooks: …how long do we think this lasts? @WesCarter22: Stay tuned. ;) I nearly threw my phone. That i***t. That absolute menace. I stormed into school, finding Wes at his locker like he had no idea he had just set the internet on fire. “What is wrong with you?” I hissed, shoving my phone in his face. He glanced at the post and smirked. “Nice engagement. We should start charging for interviews.” I groaned. “This isn’t a joke!” “Relax, Tran.” He closed his locker, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. “We said we’d sell it. I’m just playing my part.” I wanted to argue, but he wasn’t wrong. We did agree to this. Still, the way he handled it—with that stupid, cocky attitude—made me want to strangle him. “This better not escalate,” I muttered. But, of course, Wes Carter couldn’t resist pushing things further. And I found that out the hard way—when we walked into the cafeteria together. The shift in energy was instant. Heads turned. Conversations hushed. People stared. And then, as if I wasn’t already regretting my life choices, Wes did the unthinkable. He slung an arm around my shoulders. I froze. I could feel everyone’s eyes burning into me. My entire brain short-circuited. “See?” he murmured, low enough for only me to hear. “Believable.” I elbowed him so hard he actually winced. But it was too late. Because across the cafeteria, Brielle Summers was glaring. And that? That was not a good sign. Chapter 11: Brielle's warning If there was one universal truth at Franklin High, it was this: you did not piss off Brielle Summers. Unfortunately, Wes had just done exactly that. By the time we sat down at the lunch table, Brielle was already watching me like a lion stalking its prey. She took a slow sip of her iced coffee, eyes locked on me over the rim of her cup. I swallowed hard, pretending I didn’t notice. Luke smirked, glancing between us. “Damn, Summers. You look like you’re about to kill someone.” Brielle set down her drink with a pointed clink. “Just observing.” “Observing what?” Wes asked lazily, stealing a fry from Luke’s tray. Brielle didn’t look at him. She looked at me. I stiffened. “Something wrong?” She tilted her head, fake-sweet. “Just wondering… how long you think you can keep up this act?” My stomach clenched. “Excuse me?” “Oh, come on.” She let out a little laugh, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. “This whole ‘nerd and jock’ thing? It’s cute, really. But we both know it’s not real.” I felt my face burn. “I—” Wes cut in before I could answer. “Brielle,” he said, voice light but firm. “Let it go.” She turned to him, arching a perfect brow. “Why? Am I wrong?” He held her gaze, his usual smirk nowhere in sight. “Yeah. You are.” Something unreadable flashed across Brielle’s face. Then she smiled. “If you say so.” But the way she said it made my skin crawl. She wasn’t convinced. She was waiting. And that terrified me more than anything else