Chapter 3: The Girls
1085 Words
I can tell from the very moment he passed through me. Moments later, a girl with high ponytail followed him.
She’s a furious she-wolf. Her angry aura struck me instantly.
"Are you Alina Russell?"
"Ye… yes."
She grinned, while Viper halted briefly. HIs eyes assessed me, cold and measuring, just like my uncle’s had been. I didn’t understand why people liked doing that. Wasn’t it rude?
“Alina?” He echoed.
I nodded.
He didn’t speak much but then he stepped forward and bowed at me, practically whisper at my ears.
“You didn’t smell like Alina. Was it really you? I didn’t recognize it.”
My heart fluttered.
“I … I …”
"Let’s not meet again unnecessarily," he said at last, already walking toward the hall.
A girl with a high ponytail followed him. She smirked as she slipped her hand into Viper’s arm, clinging deliberately.
"Is that really your fiancée, V?" she asked.
Viper didn’t answer.
The girl laughed softly. "How pathetic. She must’ve come straight from an orphanage…" She paused, then looked me up and down. "I mean, just look at her."
The girl’s laughter lingered long after Viper disappeared down the hall.
I swallowed and adjusted the hem of my dress, suddenly aware of how stiff the fabric felt against my skin. It wasn’t too big or too small, just wrong, like it didn’t belong to me.
I tugged it down, then smoothed it over my hips, hoping it would somehow stop screaming impostor.
The girl tilted her head, watching me with open amusement.
"Did they dress you in a hurry?" she asked. "Or did you steal it from someone better suited to wear it?"
A few nearby students slowed, curiosity lighting their eyes. I could feel them staring at my shoes, my posture, the way I stood too straight, like I was afraid of wrinkling the air around me.
I shifted my weight, forcing my shoulders to relax. Alina wouldn’t slouch. Alina wouldn’t fidget.
"Ignore her," I told myself silently, pinching the fabric at my waist and letting it fall more naturally. I copied what I remembered from the mirror, chin up, back straight, calm breaths.
The girl clicked her tongue. "You’re trying too hard," she said, stepping closer. "That dress isn’t the problem. It’s you."
My fingers curled at my sides. I resisted the urge to tug at the sleeves again. Every small movement felt wrong. Too slow, too stiff, too obvious.
Blend in. Just blend in.
I lifted my chin and met her gaze, pretending I’d worn dresses like this all my life. Even if my heart was pounding, even if the fabric still felt foreign, I forced myself to stand still.
The girl scoffed, clearly disappointed that I didn’t react.
"Come on," she muttered, turning away. "She’s not worth it."
As she walked off, laughter trailing behind her, I finally let out the breath I’d been holding.
I smoothed my dress one last time. Not because it needed fixing, but because I needed the reminder.
I was Alina now.
Clumsy or not, I had to learn how to wear her skin.
***
“Shoot, Lila. What am I supposed to do now?” I groaned inwardly. LIla only grunted.
“You should avoid confrontation.”
“I got it. I got it. But how?”
“Less meeting with Viper, I guess? His wolf is… scary.”
I couldn’t afford distractions or like LIla said, confrontation. My first priority was to blend in and survive this charade.
Alina’s life was built on appearances, and I had no choice but to play my part.
The role of the prodigy, the golden child of the Russell family, was not one I’d chosen, but it was the life I was now forced to live.
I didn’t even know what a prodigy is.
Damn!
“Alina Russell!”
The voice from behind snapped me out of my thoughts.
I turned too quickly, barely stopping myself from flinching, and found myself surrounded by a small group of students. Their eyes gleamed with open curiosity.
Mostly girls. A few boys lingered at the edges, but they didn’t speak, merely watching with quiet interest.
They wore the silver-and-blue uniforms of Yankee Academy, the school’s crest on their chests. Subtle variations in their robes signified their different houses. There was no mistaking it.
The moment I stepped onto this campus, I was no longer Callista Russell, an orphan from nowhere.
I was Alina, a healer prodigy, a legacy.
“Welcome to Yankee Academy!” one of the girls said brightly, her voice laced with excitement. She looked about my age, her eyes full of friendly warmth. “We’ve heard so much about you, Alina. You’re from the Russell family, right?”
I nodded, forcing a smile that felt more like a shield than a greeting.
Inside, my nerves tangled tight. The name Russell still felt foreign, heavy with expectations I didn’t know how to carry. But the weight didn’t matter.
Not yet.
“Yes,” I said, my voice softer than I wanted it to be, betraying a hint of the uncertainty I felt. “I’m Alina Russell.”
She smiled even wider. “You must be thrilled to be here,” she continued. “Everyone’s talking about your arrival. You’re a healer, right? A prodigy?” She tilted her head slightly and winked. “I mean, that’s what everyone says.”
I felt it then, the swirl of emotions around me. Excitement. Anticipation. Hope.
They wanted a miracle. They expected one.
But I wasn’t Alina. I wasn’t the prodigy they believed in. I wasn’t even close.
“Yes,” I said again, my smile more confident this time, though it still felt like a mask. "I’m excited."
I had practiced this smile, this persona, until it was a part of me.
Fake it till you make it.
“I’m looking forward to getting started,” I added.
The words left my mouth, and for a moment, I thought maybe I had convinced them. But then, something shifted in the air. Something subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was enough to make my pulse quicken.
The girl studying me didn’t smile this time. Instead, her brows furrowed as she took a few steps closer.
“I thought I’d seen you somewhere before,” she said slowly, her voice a little more guarded. “But today… you feel different.”
My stomach lurched. What did she mean by that? Did I give myself away somehow?
- Writer
