longing After You

Zita’s POV The sound of my alarm felt sharper that morning — louder, more important, like it knew today wasn’t just any Monday. It was my first day at Elite Private School, one of the biggest and expensive schools in town. The school of the rich, the kind of place that had marble floors, swimming pools, and students who probably had drivers. I sat up slowly, rubbing my eyes and staring at the uniform neatly laid out on the chair beside my bed. It looked too crisp, too perfect, like it belonged to someone else. Maybe it did. Someone born into wealth, someone whose last name opened doors. Not me — Zita Miller, the scholarship girl from Primrose Street. “Zita! Breakfast!” my mom called from the kitchen. I glanced at the clock — 6:45 a.m. I had thirty minutes before the bus would pick me up. My heart thumped. It wasn’t fear exactly… more like the feeling you get when standing on a high diving board, looking down. You know you’re supposed to jump, but your legs keep asking why. Downstairs, the scent of toasted bread filled the air. Dad was sipping coffee, reading the morning paper, while Mom packed Debbie’s lunchbox for school. “You look beautiful, sweetheart,” Mom said, smiling proudly. “Our big girl going to Elite!” Debbie, my ten-year-old sister, grinned up at me with her usual mischief. “Don’t let those rich kids boss you around, okay? You’re smarter than all of them.” I chuckled. “I’ll try not to start a revolution on my first day.” Dad lowered his paper and looked at me over his glasses. “Remember, Zita. You earned this. Don’t let anyone make you feel like you don’t belong there.” His voice was calm but firm, and it sank deep into me like a promise. I nodded, clutching my bag — my old, sturdy black bag with worn out straps and a frayed zipper. It had seen me through every exam and late-night study session. It was my good luck charm, even if it looked out of place in a school where “old” probably meant “vintage limited edition.” “I honestly don't care!!” The bus arrived at 7:30 sharp. I hesitated before climbing in, instantly feeling the difference. The air smelled faintly of perfume and designer cologne. The students wore the same uniform as me, but somehow theirs looked more expensive. I found an empty seat near the window and sat down. Two girls in front of me were talking about their weekend trip to Miami. Someone else was showing off a new iPhone. I looked down at my plain notebook and took a deep breath. Zita Miller…It’s just school, I told myself. You’ve done this before. The bus stopped suddenly, and a tall boy with gray eyes that looked almost silver in the sunlight, and a charming, easy smile slid into the seat beside me. He flashed a grin — easy and confident. “Hey. I’m Trenton Baker,” he said. “New here?” I nodded. “Is it that obvious?” He chuckled. “Only because you’re not staring at your phone like everyone else.” I smiled nervously and he grinned wider. “Don’t worry,we only eat new students on Thursdays.” I couldn’t help laughing. “You’ll get used to it. Just... don’t let Vanessa see you trip or breathe wrong.” “Vanessa?” “You’ll find out soon enough,” he said with a knowing grin. The bus came a stop and we all got down. “Nice meeting you…Zita Miller,”he said, reading the name from the ID around my neck. “You too, Trenton,”I replied with a small smile. *.*.*.* Elite Private School was more like a university campus than a high school. The buildings gleamed, the lawns were impossibly green, and even the air seemed scented. Inside, the hallways buzzed with laughter and chatter. Everyone seemed to know where to go except me. I checked my schedule again — Physics, Room 204. As I rounded a corner, distracted by the map on my phone, I collided with something solid. My books flew everywhere, and something cold splashed across my uniform. I gasped. The smell of coffee filled the air. “Oh no, I’m so sorry…” I began, crouching to pick up my books, but the person I’d bumped into just stood there, silent. When I looked up, my breath caught. He was tall — maybe six feet, with dark hair that fell slightly over his forehead, and eyes as blue as the ocean right before a storm. Those blue eyes locked on me with a mix of irritation and… something unreadable. His white designer shirt was stained with coffee, but he didn’t even flinch. He just looked at me, cold and still. “I—I didn’t see you,” I stuttered. “Clearly,” he said, his tone smooth but sharp. I scrambled to hand him a tissue. He shook his head once, already turning away. “Forget it.” And just like that, he walked off, leaving me crouched on the floor with my heart pounding. “Nice going,” a female voice sneered behind me. I turned to see a girl with perfect blonde curls and hazel eyes, her lips curved into a smirk. Two other girls stood on either side of her, both laughing. “That was Xavier MacAndre,” she said slowly, as if the name should mean something to me. “He’s not exactly the forgiving type.” “I said I was sorry…” She looked up at me, eyeing me from head to toe, like I'm a dirt that refuse to go away. “Let me guess,” she said, drawing out the words like they were made of honey. “New student, huh? Scholarship?” I wanted to disappear. “Yes.” Her friends giggled. “That explains it.” Heat rushed to my face. I could feel the other students staring. She smirked. “Cute. I’m Vanessa Austin. Just try not to bump into people next time. Some of us actually care about what we wear.” Her friends giggled as they walked away, and I stood there, gripping my books. My throat tightened, but I forced myself to breathe. Before I could reply, a familiar voice broke through the crowd. “Vanessa, chill. She’s new.” Trenton stepped forward, giving me an encouraging look. “Come on, I’ll show you to class.” Vanessa’s smirk faltered, but she tossed her hair and stalked away. I followed Trenton, trying to keep my face neutral even though my insides felt like they were on fire. “Don’t mind her,” he said once we were out of earshot. “She thinks the school revolves around her and Xavier.” “Are they… together?” I asked. “Nope. She just likes him,” he replied. “She’s had a crush on him since year one.” I laughed nervously. “Great. I’ve officially made enemies before homeroom.” He grinned. “Welcome to Elite.” I nodded, though the sting of humiliation still burned. “Thanks.” “Come on,” he said, giving me a reassuring smile. “You’ve already survived your first run-in with the Queen Bee. You’ll be fine.” I forced a smile, but my stomach was still in knots. *.*.*.* By lunch, I was exhausted — too many names, too many stares. I just wanted somewhere quiet, anywhere away from the noise. I found a bench in the courtyard beneath a large maple tree. Pulling out my packed lunch, I smiled at the sight of Mom’s neat handwriting on the napkin: Have a great first day! with a little heart drawn beside it. My sandwich was simple; turkey, lettuce, and cheese, nothing like the elaborate meals around me. “Mind if I sit here?” a gentle voice asked. I looked up to see a red-haired girl with freckles and bright green eyes. Her smile was warm and genuine. “Sure,” I said. She sat beside me and opened her lunchbox. “I’m Maya. I saw what happened this morning. Vanessa can be... a handful.” I smiled awkwardly. “Yeah, I noticed.” “She’ll get bored soon,” Maya said with a shrug. “She only bullies people she feels threatened by.” “Threatened? By me?” Maya grinned. “You spilled coffee on her crush. That’s practically a declaration of war.” I laughed — a real laugh this time, and for the first time today, I felt my shoulders relax. As we ate, we discovered we both loved reading, especially mystery novels. Maya’s warmth was effortless, her laughter contagious. She didn’t care that I wasn’t from money,she just… liked me. When the bell rang, she stood and said, “You know, you might actually survive here, Zita Miller.” “Thanks. I think I’ll need all the luck I can get.” She smiled, patting my shoulder. Just as we were about to leave, an angry voice cut through the noise. “Really, Maya? You left us at our usual spot to sit here with the new girl, giving her false hope of actually surviving here at Elite after her run-in with Vanessa?” The tone dripped with sarcasm. I turned around to see a not-so-pretty blonde with sharp, glimmering eyes. She was slightly taller than me, about the same height as Maya. “Don’t be an ass, Zoey. Be nice,” Maya said in a playful tone. “Zita, meet Zoey — my bestie.” “Hi, Zoey,” I said. “Whatever.” She turned back to Maya. “Trenton’s been looking for you nonstop.” “Trenton Baker?” I questioned. “Yeah. He’s my boyfriend. I’m not surprised you already know him — he’s nice to everyone.” Maya explained. “Yh, He’s a nice guy,” I said, and Maya smiled. “Come on, guys, we’ll be late for class,” Zoey said, leading the way. We had two other classes after that one before the closing be was rung. That evening, back home, I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. The day had been chaos — new faces, accidental enemies, spilled coffee and somewhere in between, a strange, electric moment with a boy whose blue eyes I couldn’t get out of my head. I reached for my journal, the one place I could untangle my thoughts and pour out my feelings. Dear Diary, Today was my first day at Elite, and somehow, I’ve already embarrassed myself in front of the most popular boy in school. His name is Xavier MacAndre. Handsome. Impossible to read. Cold..the coldest guy I've ever met. And yet... there was something in his eyes. Like maybe he’s just pretending to be untouchable. I paused, my pen hovering above the page. Maybe he’s not the only one pretending.