The Scholarship Girl

CHAPTER 4

“Girlllll, what the f**k was that? What’s wrong with you? You embarrassed me!”

Belle continued to rant the moment we stepped out of the hall, and I knew for a fact—Belle was trouble.

She doesn't even wait until we're fully out of the hall. The words are already flying before the door swings shut behind us, loud enough that a few people turn to look. I keep walking, eyes forward, jaw tight, like I'm not the reason a girl is having a full breakdown in the middle of a hallway that smells like expensive cologne and floor wax.

“I embarrassed you?” I turned to look at her. “Didn’t know you were me. I thought I embarrassed myself only,” I shot back sarcastically.

Guess Belle’s attitude is beginning to rub off on me.

That was quick.

“Now’s not the time to be witty, lost puppy. It’s time to apologize.” Belle rolled her eyes. I was starting to notice—it’s something she does often. Very often.

“You’re not trying to turn that into a nickname, are you?” I could feel my irritation rising.

“Well, not until you stop acting lost and start acting like you belong here.”

I feel the words land somewhere soft. I don't let it show.

“What? Am I that obvious?”

She looks at me. Really looks at me — head to toe, one slow sweep — and says, "Girl, yes," like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well… thanks.” I continued walking forward, like her words didn't hit a nerve.

“For speaking the truth? My pleasure.” She rolled her eyes again. Yep. Definitely a habit.

We start walking again. Around us, the hallway buzzes — lockers slamming, heels clicking on polished tile, someone blasting music from a phone two feet away like headphones are a foreign concept. A group of girls in matching scrunchies glance at me as I pass. I look straight ahead.

“That was one hell of an introduction, scholarship girl.” I heard a male voice behind me. Warm, unhurried, with just enough amusement in it that I already know who it is before I turn around.

Josh.

I turned to see him jogging slightly to catch up with us.

“Well, thanks for calling me to order scholarship boy.”

We both couldn’t help but laugh, and I felt something loosen in my chest. My guard.

“How rude of you to walk into a conversation uninvited—and most definitely without permission.” Belle’s voice cut in, sharp and cold. I turn to find her stopped in the middle of the hallway, arms folded, looking at Josh like he's personally come to ruin her day. The irritation on her face was impossible to miss.

“Oh! My apologies, ladies,” Josh said with a smile, winking at Belle.

I liked his confidence.

The apology hangs in the air for half a second. Josh starts to turn, already stepping back, retreating gracefully, and then Belle opens her mouth.

“Get out of my face, you manner less countryside animal. Y’all never beat the allegations.”

Josh pauses. There was a change in his countenance and, just like speed lightning, it's gone.

Turns back slowly, with a smile on his face — that same easy, unbothered smile — and somehow that seemed to make it worse, he replied,

“That’s not a very nice thing to say. Well, as you can see, I'm on my way out of your hair.” He raised both hands in a mock surrender. Then he looked Belle in the eye and said, “See you around, Bella.”

With a wink, he was gone, swallowed into the crowd.

The silence he leaves behind lasts approximately one second.

“It’s Belle, not Bella, you illiterate!” she yelled, stomping her foot in annoyance.

She said it loud enough for nearby students to turn and stare.

The hallway stutters — conversations pause, heads turn, someone lets out a low oooh from somewhere behind me.

Josh doesn't turn back. But I had a feeling, a very strong feeling, he was smiling.

He’s always smiling.

The foot traffic slowly picks back up around us. I wait a beat before I speak.

“That was unnecessarily rude, you know?”

“Well, who the f**k does he think he is? Interrupting women's conversation uninvited is rude. He started it." She falls back into step beside me, her heels striking the floor with more force than necessary.

“Girl, chill. He just wanted to say hi.”

“Well, I don’t give a f**k. I dislike him already.”

“Awn,” I press my lips together to keep from smiling. “Sad thing is, I like him. He has to be my best friend. Just so I can see you all riled up over a ‘hi'.”

I laughed, so hard.

“I’m not riled up. He’s not worth it. Stop laughing!” She rolled her eyes again.

At this point, I was convinced Belle could roll her eyes sixty times in a minute.

“You do realize you’re overreacting, yeah? It’s not that deep. Let it go already.”

“How are you not pissed? His attitude was unacceptable.”

“I agree—but he’s a cool guy.”

“You’re starting to talk too much. You could barely speak five minutes ago.”

I smiled.

“Well, guess what? Two minutes ago, someone told me to act like I belong. So here I am!”

She rolled her eyes and started toward the class. I laughed and hurried after her.

“So, according to the timetable, we have Math first. Ugh, I hate Math,” Belle said as we walked down the hallway.

“Girl, what?” I sounded genuinely surprised.

“Tell me you hate Math too, Elora.”

“Well… sorry to burst your bubble, Bella.”

“Don’t do that.” I could practically feel her eyes roll.

I smirked.

Suddenly, Belle stopped. Her expression shifted—eyes lighting up, lips curling into a suspicious smirk.

I grew curious. “What’s amusing you?”

Excitement spilled into her voice. “So there’s this thing Greg does, yeah…”

“Greg???”

“Girl, that’s not the point, Focus. It's called student hour. Greg and some of the other teachers do it. They dedicate an hour of class time to a student. The student comes up and teaches a topic. Takes questions. The whole thing." She pauses for dramatic effect, and she is very good at dramatic effect. “Guess whose turn it is today."

“Who?” I obviously sounded confused, but Belle was too excited to notice.

“Julian!” she squealed, clapping. “I can’t wait for him to disgrace himself so I can taunt him forever.”

I have never been more confused in my life.

I just stared at her, waiting for an explanation. None came.

“What?” she asked, noticing my blank expression.

“I’m very much confused.”

“What’s confusing you? It’s Julian’s turn for student hour, and he sucks at Math, so I can’t wait for him to embarrass himself,” she said casually, like this was already a scheduled event.

“For God’s sake, Belle—what the f**k is student hour? And who the f**k is Julian? Why are you calling your Math teacher by his first name? And how do I even access the timetable and course outlines?”

“Girl, you’re slow. Way too slow for my liking.” She sighed, and held up a finger. "First, your iPad. Everything is on it. Timetables, course outlines, reading materials, notes. Use it."

She paused, studied me for a second, then continued.

“Now, Julian is the mean-a*s guy I absolutely detest. Remember the seat I told you to avoid?”

She didn’t wait for my reply.

“Yeah, that’s his customized chair. He’s rude, uncultured, and arrogant. His family runs the school—in fact, they practically run the town. So you can already tell where that attitude comes from.”

She leaned in slightly, her eyes gleaming.

“He hates school, and he’s doing student hour today. I'm not explaining what student hour is again. I'm sure you got that. If you didn't, that's on you.”

Her grin widened.

“His embarrassment is going to be fun. Did I mention that Math, English and Science classes are always combined with other Grade 12 classes? That would be a different level of embarrassment, Girl,” she squealed.

I wondered what Julian had done to deserve this level of hatred. But rude and arrogant?

Yeah… he probably earned it.

I study her for a second. “What did he do to you though?"

The smile flickers. Just barely. "That's not the point."

"It kind of is—"

"It's not." She turns and pushes open the classroom door. "Come on."

I file it away. Whatever history lives between Belle and Julian Anderson, it has roots. Deep ones.

We walked into the classroom and headed for our seats. Students filter in around us, loud and easy, dropping into seats like they own them. Which, I suppose, most of them feel like they do.

I'm barely settled, when a shadow falls over my desk.

I recognized her immediately—Dina.

The mean girl.

She stands with her weight on one hip, her uniform sitting on her like it was tailored twice, a small deliberate smile on her face that does not reach her eyes.

“Hi, lost puppy,” Every word is soaked in a particular brand of cruelty that hides behind a pleasant tone and dares you to call it out.

I open my mouth—

“You don’t get to call her that” Belle is beside me before I even register her moving. She doesn't raise her voice. She just stands there, shoulders square, expression pleasant in the way that a closed door is pleasant.

“Let's stick to the first name basis, and in case you've forgotten, it's Elora."

Dina tilts her head, smile widening. “But you called her that. In front of everyone, Bella."

A beat.

Belle maintained her smile, but there was a shift in her aura.

“Well, what are friends for? They give each other cute nicknames that are bound to be exclusive.”

Dina looked me up and down, then turned to leave.

“One more thing, Dina,” Belle added.

She paused.

“You will not be caught dead calling me Bella again. It’s Belle.”

A beat of silence.

“You can leave now.”

Dina scoffed and walked back to her seat, spine straight, like the whole thing was beneath her anyway.

“A nickname, huh?” I muttered, staring at Belle.

“Well, yes. Got a better one for yourself?” She sits down beside me, smoothing her skirt like nothing happened.

“Maybe Bella will do.”

“Don’t you dare.”

I smiled.

“Thanks for helping me out just now.”

“She’s a bully. You need to learn to stand up to her. Sometimes she comes with her minions.

"I know, I just—"

I'm mid-sentence, reaching for my own iPad, half paying attention — and then something shifts in the room. Not loud, not dramatic. Just a subtle change in the air, the way a room adjusts when someone walks in who expects it to.

I looked up, and saw him.

Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed sharply even in school uniform — blazer open, tie is loosened just enough to be deliberate.

I turned to Belle.

She looked up, saw him, scoffed, stood up and headed for her seat.

Yeah… there was definitely history there. Whatever lives between them doesn't need words.

I stared at him.

Our eyes met.

Blue eyes.

He paused and recovered almost immediately.

Breaking eye contact and continuing to his seat like I didn’t exist.

I felt my anger rise and just then...

Everything clicked.

The rude, arrogant, rich, stubborn student Belle hated…

Is the same asshole I helped in the Math lab this morning.

This mini devil walked in, took his seat, and ignored me completely, which only added to my anger and irritation.

Now, everything came rushing down to me.

The way he embarrassed me in the lab.

The smirk on his face when I made a fool of myself at the assembly.

The way he ignored me just now.

My anger kept rising, and rising, and rising...

Fun fact?

There was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

At least not yet.