Trapped Beneath His Blue Gaze

West Cliff University wasn’t just expensive; it looked like every brick laid out was built with money. The wide, iron gates gleamed under the sun, carved with a crest that probably cost more than my family’s house. Students moved through it like they’d done it their whole lives: confident, relaxed and perfectly dressed. I didn't know how long I stood, feet rooted to the ground, stalling before someone brushed past me, muttering something about "freshmen freezing up." Blinking, it took me a minute to realize I had been blocking the pathway so I stepped aside hurriedly, clutching the strap of my old backpack even tighter. I inhaled sharply. The air smelled like freshly cut grass and new beginnings. It was my first day at West Cliff, the kind of school that made the news for its billionaire alumni and scandalous parties. The kind of school I'd only ever fantasized about till now. Getting in on a full scholarship was the biggest thing that had ever happened to me; I just hadn’t realized it would also be the most intimidating. The place was massive. Buildings sprawling as far as my eyes could reach, each with its own personality: glass, marble, manicured hedges. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a window as I walked through the premises in a large blue hoodie, loose jeans and a pair of sneakers that had seen better days. I looked like I’d accidentally wandered into the wrong movie set. "Great," I muttered, just as my phone dinged with a message. Pulling it out of my pocket, I glanced down. "Hey sweetheart, just wanted to wish you the best on your first day in school. I know you're probably feeling overwhelmed right now but you got this! I'll be working a double shift today and will be home late but I can't wait to hear all about your first day and so do the boys; they'll be home early from practice, so don't worry about Laura. I love you. Mom." My mouth curled up into a smile. Only my mom would send me a message to check up on me seconds after I stepped out of the house. She was such a worrier but I loved- "Rebecca Taylor?" My head snapped up at the sound of my name. A guy wearing the friendliest smile jogged up to me, his blue mohawk shining in the sun. "Charles Miller. Charlie," he said the moment he came to a stop. "Your student guide for the week." I returned the smile. "Oh. Right. The school mentioned I would get one. I'm Becky—" I stopped midway, muttering under my breath, "But you already know that," but he just chuckled playfully before glancing at the schedule I was holding. "Mind if I?" I handed it over. He skimmed it quickly. "Ohh. Your first class is Basic Political Theory, Professor Blake. Brutal for a first day but doable. Come on. I’ll walk you there." Brutal? I wasn't fazed. I loved a good challenge. Smiling softly, I nodded. "Thanks." "Not a problem," he replied as we began to make our way in. "Are you new to the city?" "Yeah," I answered. "Lived in the town. Moved here with my family for the scholarship." "Don’t worry," he said, smiling easily. "You’ll get used to it. The school’s basically a maze but you’ll learn your way around before you lose your mind." I laughed softly, mostly out of nerves. Charlie was easy to talk to- laid back, friendly, the kind of guy who made silence comfortable. It also helped that he didn’t look at me like I didn’t belong there, which already made him one of my favorite people on campus. "So," he said after a minute, "nervous?" "Since I got the acceptance email? Yeah." "Fair." He chuckled. "But honestly, you look like you can handle yourself." I raised an eyebrow at my outfit. "Sure. Nothing screams confidence like a large hoodie from a clearance rack," I joked with a bit of seriousness. He laughed, shaking his head. "You’ll be fine, trust me." We walked through the main quad, a wide open space surrounded by marble benches and cherry trees. Students sat in clusters, laughing, chatting and scrolling on their phones. It felt like walking through a catalog of privilege. Conversations floated past: vacations in Japan, new cars, charity galas. Some of the students waved or called out to Charlie as we walked by so I guessed he was popular. Keeping my head down, I tried not to look out of place, which was nearly impossible. "Uh, don’t look now," Charlie said under his breath suddenly, "but we’ve got company." I followed his gaze before he could stop me. Four guys stood near the small fountain at the entrance of the lecture hall, the center of attention without even trying. Everyone knew who they were, myself included. The Four Kings of Black Stone, the top four rugby players in the state, their names preceded them, always splashed over sports magazines and major covers. Cassian Steele, pale-skinned, short, stylish and impossible to miss with his designer sunglasses and confident grin. Dante Knox, olive-skinned with long dreadlocks, reckless, carefree energy, like he lived for trouble. Axel Drahven, tall with a buzz cut hair, calm, unreadable, watching everything without saying a word. An aura of deadly chaos hung off him like a scent. And then there was Raze Calloway. The leader of the Four Kings, star player of the Die-hard team and legend in and out of the field. From a distance, I could feel the shift around him. Dark hair, blue eyes that looked disturbingly lifeless- even from where I stood and the kind of posture that didn’t need words to command attention. His black bomber jacket fit perfectly over a tee, crisp and dark, every line deliberate, diamond earrings glistening in the light. The easy air of wealth clung to him like a second skin. His demeanor screamed deadly calm, dangerous, confident and untouchable; the son of West Cliff’s owner. My steps faltered, a strange curiosity tugging at me as I peeked at him from under my baseball cap. Beside me, i felt Charlie stiffen. "Let's take the long way around, Becky," he said, voice tight with tension. "Why?" I asked curiously. "Because that’s Raze Calloway," he muttered. "And it’s never good if he notices you." I almost laughed but the seriousness in his tone stopped me short. "He’s just a student." Charlie gave me a look. "Yeah. And storms are just bad weather." We began to walk around the quad, keeping to the side. For a second, I thought we’d made it but then someone called out, "Hey, boy in the oversized hoodie." The word wasn’t loud but it carried. Students turned and when I looked up, Raze Calloway was looking straight at me, like he was staring into my soul. My breath stuttered in my chest. From the look in his eyes, it was obvious he knew I was a girl but chose not to acknowledge it. Chose to make it a joke. My brows furrowed. "s**t," Charlie muttered beside me. He blew out a quiet breath, the kind that said he knew as well as I did now where this was headed and it was nowhere good. "You," Raze said, his deep voice smooth yet detached. "You lost?" Every eye in the quad seemed to swing in our direction. I swallowed hard, tempted to walk away but decided against it, knowing it would only make things worse, something I didn't need so I kept the edge out of my voice. "No. Just heading to class." He tilted his head, studying me like I was a puzzle he hadn’t decided was worth solving. "Didn’t know the maintenance staff took basic political theory." Laughter spread, quick and cruel at his words, the sound slashing the air like a whip. My throat burned. I’d been teased before about my oversized, washed-out shirts and worn-out pants. Shades have been countlessly thrown at me about the fact that I and my family were poor and my mother had to break her back to feed five children, including one with a terminal illness, since my father walked out, but this felt different. Personal. Charlie stepped forward hesitantly. "Please knock it off, Calloway. She’s new." Raze’s eyes lazily flicked to him then back to me. It was like looking at a dead pool. Goosebumps trailed down my arms. "Scholarship student." The word felt heavier than it should’ve. "I heard they were cutting back on charity this year," he said easily. My fists tightened in my pockets. "Guess they didn’t cut back enough," I bit out angrily, matching his gaze, despite my racing heart. My words were met with sudden silence, tension so thick it felt almost as intense as the look of shock on their faces. I instantly knew I messed up. "s**t," I muttered internally, shifting uneasily on my feet. Why hadn't I just kept walking? I scolded myself. First day on scholarship and I was already having issues with the owner's son. One who looked unhinged. "Damn, Becky," Charlie whispered. For a split second, something shifted in those soulless eyes- interest? amusement? However, it vanished as fast as it appeared. He smirked faintly then turned away, motioning for the others to follow. "Welcome to West Cliff Charity," he said over his shoulder. And just like that, it was over. The tension broke, and students drifted back to their conversations like nothing had happened. Beside me, Charlie sighed in relief, "You okay?" "I’m fine," I answered automatically, my voice sounding shaky to my own ear. He hesitated. "You sure? He doesn’t usually-" "I’m fine." I bit out, guilt creeping in moments later but he just nodded quietly. We walked the rest of the way without talking but I felt reassured with him by my side. At the entrance of the classroom, we exchanged numbers and he promised to check in on me after his class. In class, I sat in the back row, opened my notebook and stared at the blank page until the words blurred. The professor’s voice droned on but all I could hear was the echo of laughter from the crowd, who had followed his lead like he’d commanded it. And worse, the way his blue gaze had felt- not just cruel but sharp, a little too aware, almost hypnotic. It was just one moment; I automatically scolded myself following my thought thread. One stupid, humiliating moment that shouldn't have taken up so much space in my head, yet it did and somehow I knew it wasn’t going to be the last. I didn’t know Raze Calloway but I knew his type: people who had everything and used it to remind you that you didn’t. There’d been something in those void eyes. A flicker. A pause. Like he’d already decided what to do with me and for reasons I couldn’t explain, that scared me more than the humiliation itself.