AURORA’S POV:
Monday mornings are already cursed, but this one takes the cake.
The front office is abuzz when I pass by on my way to homeroom. Whispers ripple through the air like wildfire, students practically bouncing on their toes for a glimpse of something or someone new. The energy is almost frantic.
I know something’s off before I even round the corner.
There’s a girl standing by the front desk. Not just any girl. She’s stunning in the way models pretend to be unaware during a photoshoot with icy platinum hair cascading down her back like a silk curtain, silver hoops glinting in her ears, and a smirk that screams trouble.
“Is that the new student?” I hear someone ask.
“She’s hot. What’s her name again?”
“Ariel. Transfer from South ridge”
I pause, my heart hitching.
South ri
