Different Worlds: The School For The Rich

The Confrontation Intensified

Following the events between Stellan and me, he was absent the next day. I learned about it from his classmates in the hallway, who remarked it was the first time he had missed school. Some students approached me, inquiring about his whereabouts, and I told them I had no idea. Honestly, I didn’t know—there was nothing between us.

It had been a while since my days felt so calm. With Stellan absent, I was free from his irritation, and Beatrice and her group had stopped bullying me, which was a relief. I settled back against the chair’s headboard, gazing out the window. This is the kind of peace I appreciate—no chaos.

The following day passed, and still, Stellan was nowhere to be seen. I tried to push aside my concerns as I went about my day, but I couldn’t help but wonder where he was and how he was doing. Had my words been too harsh and pushed him away? I tried to shake off that worry and focused on my routine.

By the third day, Stellan's absence continued, and anxiety spread among the students. Rumors circulated that I had broken Stellan’s heart. I was bombarded with comments urging me to take him back, which only made me feel pressured and frustrated. Who was spreading these ridiculous rumors?

Mia stepped in to clarify that Stellan and I were not together. Some listened to her, but others remained convinced that we had a relationship.

I expressed my gratitude to Mia, and we parted ways for our respective classes. As I settled back into my seat, I heard someone burst in.

“Aisha!” It was Beatrice. I turned to face her, and before I knew it, she had yanked my hair, jerking me violently back and forth. Everyone gasped at the unexpected confrontation.

I was taken aback, and although I hadn’t anticipated this, the pain made me aware of the reality of the situation.

“You witch! Where is Stellan? What did you do to him?!” she yelled. That was the breaking point for my patience. Her actions had pushed me over the edge. I scowled, clenched my teeth, and punched her in the face, sending her crashing to the ground. Gasps filled the room.

“Don’t you ever touch me like that, you freak! And why are you blaming me for Stellan’s absence when it’s not true? Do you have any evidence?!” I shouted while pinning her down. I continued to hit her face as she groaned and tried to shield herself.

“I know it’s your fault that Stellan’s been absent for three whole days!” she accused, rolling us over so she was on top. She began to punch and scratch me, and I covered my face, wincing in pain.

“It wasn’t me, you maniac! You’re so obsessed with him; calm down!” I responded, lunging at her and yanking her hair in revenge for her earlier attack.

The noise of our fight attracted onlookers from other classes, and soon several instructors arrived to separate us.

“You better find him and tell him to come back, you i***t!” she spat as she tried to lunge at me again, but the instructors held her back.

“Maybe you should do that yourself, considering how 'lovey-dovey' you are with him!” I retorted with a smirk, though internally, I was furious and felt a surge of aggression rising within me.

Miss Percy soon entered, her expression stern. She looked at us with clear disapproval. “You two, to the principal’s office. NOW.”

Consequently, we found ourselves in the office. Fortunately, his father was fair and reprimanded Beatrice for her treatment of the juniors. After our discussion, as we prepared to leave, the principal called me back, asking me to stay. I swallowed hard and nodded, taking a seat on the couch in front of him.

“There’s someone here to see you,” the principal said cryptically, leaving me questioning who it could be.

After a few minutes, the door swung open, and I heard the sound of heels approaching. Soon, I felt someone sit down next to me. Glancing to my right, I saw a woman staring intently at me. She was dressed in a formal white gown, with blonde hair and striking green eyes. Her lips were painted red with lipstick, and there was a beauty mark just below her mouth.

Her presence was so intense that I felt rather insignificant.

"You're Aisha, correct?" she asked, her voice serene yet chilling.

Despite the coldness in the principal's office, I felt beads of sweat forming on my brow.

"Yes..." I replied quietly, locking eyes with her as she continued to stare at me, until she reached out to take my hand.

"Please, you must help me, Aisha! My son, my poor son Stellan, refuses to leave his room. He’s depressed and needs you! He hasn’t eaten in three days, and my husband and I are extremely worried about his well-being!" She implored, her fierce demeanor fading away instantly.

"What? Stellan and I have no relationship..." I whispered, but she shook her head.

"I understand, but you’re the only one who can bring him out of that room. I’m begging you, Aisha." Her grip on my hands tightened just a bit. She was being completely sincere.

"Well... alright. But how do you know me? What makes you so sure I can help your son?" I asked, tilting my head slightly in confusion.

She released my hands and placed them on her thighs. Sitting up straight, she let out a deep sigh. "He mentioned your name multiple times. He told me he met a girl who knows how to climb, and he was intrigued because he had never met a woman of high status who could climb. He got genuinely excited when he found out your name was Aisha." She said this with a smile that made my heart flutter, but I quickly brushed it off.

"I see. But I don’t know how to reach you, ma’am...?" I hesitated.

"Just call me Miss Blues," she replied, smiling warmly.

"Alright, Miss Blues. But I have no idea where to find you." I sighed, and her laughter lightened the mood.

"Don’t worry, we’re going there now." Her words made my eyes widen in surprise.

"What?"

Before I realized it, I found myself standing in front of their grand manor. It was enormous, painted entirely white, with perfectly manicured trees lining the road. A number of maids and butlers bowed to greet us.

“Come in, don’t be shy,” she said with a warm smile. I nodded and followed her inside. As we entered the room, several maids hurried over to take her bag and heels, replacing them with her slippers. Another maid approached me, taking my bag as well and offering me a pair of slippers.

“Let them do their job,” she chuckled, noticing my hesitation. I nodded, allowing them to assist us.

“Please show the lady to my son’s room,” she instructed one of the maids, who bowed and gestured for me to follow her.

I waved goodbye to Stellan’s mother before heading upstairs. The place was vast, adorned with exquisite decorations, paintings, and elegant vases. The staircase was glossy and shiny, with a massive chandelier hanging in the center, reaching down to the first floor. I couldn’t quite remember the way, but it felt like we were navigating a zigzag path.

This place resembled a maze, and finally, the maid paused and bowed, excusing herself. I was now alone, standing before the black door of Stellan's room.

I was about to knock but paused, feeling a wave of guilt. I knew my past actions and words had been rude, and I hadn’t anticipated the impact they would have on him. The fact that his mother trusted me only deepened my remorse.

I needed to make things right. Without further hesitation, I knocked on the door. I heard his voice respond quickly, “Get out! I said I don’t want to eat!” He shouted, and I raised an eyebrow, realizing he was truly not in the mood. Should I attempt to speak? What if my voice made him even angrier, especially since I was the one who had pushed him away?

Choosing silence, I knocked again, only to hear him groan in frustration.

“Leave me alone. I don’t want to eat or drink. I don’t want anything. Just go, please!” His tone mixed annoyance with a hint of pleading. Lacking other options, I spoke up. “Stellan, it’s me. Please open the door. Let’s talk.” I said softly, waiting for a response, but all I received was silence.

There was no sign of movement or acknowledgment from him, leaving me puzzled.

“Stellan?” As I called out again, I heard a shuffle inside, followed by a small thud and his murmured ‘ow.’ Footsteps rushed toward the door, and when it finally opened, I found myself face to face with him. His hair was disheveled, and dark circles under his eyes suggested he hadn’t slept.

“Finally, you opened—” but my words were cut off when he grabbed my arm and pulled me inside, letting the door slam shut behind us.

My back pressed against the door as his body was against mine, his head resting on my neck, breathing steadily.

“Stella—”

“Tell me this isn’t a dream. Tell me that you’re really here,” he whispered, and my eyes widened, though I quickly calmed myself.

“It’s not a dream, Stellan,” I sighed, gently parting his hair from his back with my other hand.

“Please, come back to school.”