Red green and hazel black

The JEEP’S engine gave one final, wheezing rattle before dying in the center of the Ridgewood Academy lot. It sounded like a gunshot in a library. ​The driver, a guy named Miller who’d picked me up at the station with a smirk already plastered on his face, didn't kill his own engine. He just leaned over the center console, adjusted his Ray-Bans, and looked at my scuffed duffel bag like it was a biohazard. ​"So," Miller drawled, his tone dripping with a mockery that made my skin itch. "Pity scholarship? Or did your dad sell a kidney to get you past the gates?" ​I grabbed my bag, the weight of it familiar and solid. I didn't look at him until my hand was on the door handle. ​"Neither," I said, my voice flat. "But if I were you, I’d worry more about the board of directors." ​Miller snickered. "Why’s that, sweetheart? You going to report me for being mean?" ​"No," I said, finally meeting his gaze. "I’d worry about the judgment of whoever gave a merit scholarship to someone who's about to wreck your curve. Good luck with the remedial classes." ​I slammed the door before he could find a comeback. ​The walk to the dorms was a gauntlet of blazers and judgment. Ivy clung to the brick walls like a suffocating blanket. ​Bloom where you're planted. "I'm a weed, Mom," I muttered. "Weeds don't bloom. They take over." ​Room 302 ​Maddie Hayes was a whirlwind of blonde hair and expensive perfume. She was halfway through hanging a fairy-light canopy when I walked in. ​"Oh my god! You’re the girl from the Jeep!" she squealed. "Is it true? Are you from, like, a farm?" ​"Small town," I said, dropping my bag on the empty bed. "Lawyers and soldiers. No tractors." ​Maddie’s face fell for a fraction of a second before brightening again. "Edgy! I love it. You’re going to be a project. Jake’s hosting a thing tonight—a party.' You’re coming." ​"I'm unpacking." ​"You're coming," she insisted. "Unless you're scared of a little social climbing?" ​I realeased a breath I was holding as I looked at the pile of books in my bag. "I prefer hiking. But lead the way." ​ The common room was a gold-plated fishbowl, and I was the only one without gills. ​Maddie pulled me onto a velvet sofa that felt like it cost more than my Jeep. Around us, the "Elite" of Ridgewood were scattered like a catalog shoot. Boys with sweaters tied over their shoulders; girls with manicures that looked like weapons. ​Jake was the sun they all orbited. He sat center-stage, tossing a stress ball against the stone hearth. Thump. Thump. Thump. New face," Jake announced, his grin predatory. "Maddie, did you find this one in the wild?" ​"She’s my roommate, Aeliza," Maddie chirped. ​"Aeliza," Jake mused. "Welcome to the top of the food chain. We don't bite unless you ask." ​"I’ll pass on the rabies shot," I said, leaning against the stone hearth. ​A low, dry chuckle came from the corner. ​He was leaning against the mantel, a shadow in a room full of bright lights. Black hair, hazel eyes that looked like they’d seen everything and hated most of it. He didn't move. He just watched. ​"Lost much?" he asked. The voice was a jagged blade. ​I didn't turn my head. I just shifted my gaze to meet his. "Attendance much?" ​The room went silent. Jake’s grin faltered. ​"Intro to Decent Humans started ten minutes ago," I added, my voice cold. "You’re late." ​The guy—Noah, I’d heard someone whisper—finally stood up straight. He moved with a heavy, dangerous grace, stopping just inches from my space. ​"Careful, Scholarship," he murmured, his eyes tracking the pulse in my neck. "The air is thinner up here. You might find it hard to breathe." ​"I’ve got plenty of oxygen," I said, stepping closer instead of back. "Maybe you’re just taking up too much space." ​Noah’s eyes darkened, a flash of something that wasn't quite anger—it was curiosity. ​"Maddie," Noah said, his gaze still locked on mine. "Your roommate’s got a mouth." ​"I use it for more than just looking pretty," I said, turning my back on him. "You should try it sometime. The 'brooding shadow' look is getting a bit dusty." ​"So, Aeliza," Jake said, his eyes scanning my boots. "Maddie says you’re from a town of 'lawyers and soldiers.' Sounds... rigid. Did you come here to loosen up, or are you here to keep us in line?" ​"I'm here for the degree," I said, leaning back. "The line-keeping is just a hobby." ​A few girls exchanged looks. The "Who does she think she is?" telepathy was loud enough to give me a headache. ​"Scholarship grit," noah's voice rasped from the shadows near the window. ​I didn't have to look to know it was the one with the hazel eyes. Noah. He was sitting on the windowsill, one leg pulled up, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else but couldn't bear to miss the show. ​"Is that what they call it now?" I asked, finally turning my head. "Back home, we just call it 'working.'" ​Noah tilted his head. The firelight caught the sharp edge of his jawline. "Working is for people who don't have a choice. You look like you’re trying too hard to prove you belong here." ​"And you look like you’re trying too hard to pretend you don't," I retorted. ​The thump-thump of Jake’s ball stopped. ​"Ouch," Jake laughed, though his eyes remained calculating. "He’s got you there, Noah. She’s observant." ​"She’s loud," Noah corrected. He stood up, the movement fluid and arrogant. He walked toward the center of the room, stopping just close enough for me to smell cedar and cold air. "Loud usually masks a lack of depth." ​I looked him up and down—slowly. "And silence usually masks a lack of original thought." ​The girl next to Jake—Chloe, according to her monogrammed bag—gasped. "Noah is literally the top of the Dean’s List. He doesn't need to 'mask' anything." ​"Good for him," I said, standing up. I was done with the interrogation. "I hope the Dean gives him a gold star. Maybe he can pin it to that attitude." ​Noah stepped into my path as I moved toward the exit. He didn't touch me, but the air between us felt charged, like the seconds before a lightning strike. ​"You’re a long way from the 'soldiers,' Aeliza," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. "This isn't a battlefield. It’s an ecosystem. Don't get eaten." ​"I’m not on the menu," I said, stepping around him. ​As I hit the stairs, I heard Jake whistle low. "Damn, Noah. I think she actually likes you." ​"She’s a headache," Noah’s voice drifted up after me. "And she’s going to learn that Ridgewood doesn't bend for 'grit.'" ​I reached the landing and looked down over the railing one last time. He was looking up, his hazel eyes fixed on mine. He didn't look annoyed anymore. He looked like he’d finally found something worth breaking. ​I didn't blink. I just went to my room and locked the door. ​The war hadn't even started, but I’d already drawn the first line in the dirt.well,it was gonna get boring anyway,might as well crack some backs.