Chapter 5
1575 Words
LORETTA
Morristown School.
One of the best private schools—with only 564 students.
And I’m one of them.
I didn’t know the kind of people I was going to meet, but I was sure of one thing—there would be both nice and mean people.
And being the most unfortunate person on earth, I bumped into someone on my very first day.
“Ow!” I gasped, looking down at my white shirt.
“Are you okay?” Max asked quickly.
“Don’t you watch where you’re going?” a pitchy voice snapped.
That’s when I looked up.
“I’m so sorry.”
Three girls stood in front of me.
The one I had bumped into stood in the middle. She didn’t say anything—just stared at me, one brow slightly raised.
She had wavy brown hair, full lips, a small pointed nose, and striking blue eyes. Her makeup was flawless, and her acrylic nails were perfectly done.
“Where were your eyes when you were walking?” Max stepped in front of me.
“Nobody was talking to you,” the pitchy-voiced girl snapped again. She stood on the left, her straight hair slick and shiny.
The girl on the right had the same hairstyle.
They all wore short skirts without blazers. Their bags looked expensive—and their shoes?
To die for.
“Neither were we,” Max said, nudging the fallen milkshake cup with her foot.
“I didn’t mean to bump into you,” I said, pulling Max back slightly.
“You ruined her shirt! Do you even know how much that cost!?” the girl on the right snapped.
“What about her own shirt? It’s covered in your stupid milkshake too,” Max shot back.
“Oh, shut up! We can buy her an ex—”
“Enough, girls.”
The one in the middle finally spoke.
“Let’s go. They’re newbies,” she smirked, snapping her fingers as she turned away.
Max and I watched them leave.
“What the hell!?” Max turned to me. “You were just going to let them walk all over you?”
“Forget it, Max,” I muttered, looking down at my milkshake-stained shoes. “Oh no…”
“Sorry,” she sighed. “What are we going to do about… this?” She gestured at me.
“How about checking the lost and found?”
We both turned.
A guy stood behind us, smiling.
“Hi,” he waved, his bag slung over his shoulder.
“Hey,” I smiled back.
Max rolled her eyes.
“Tough first day, huh?” he said, signaling to someone. Moments later, the spilled milkshake was being cleaned up.
He had full, curly black hair, dimples, slightly purplish lips—and he was tall.
Cute.
“Why are you talking to us?” Max asked flatly.
“Be nice,” I whispered.
“I’m not,” she whispered back. “Forget what I said earlier. None of them are nice. They’re all trash.”
“Figured you might need a tour,” he said with a grin. “I’m not officially a tour guide—just a gentleman.”
“Don’t let that premature mustache fool you into thinking you’re a man,” Max said, already walking off.
“Max!” I hurried after her.
“What!?”
“Max?” he laughed, his dimples showing. “Your name is Max? Isn’t that a guy’s name?”
“Shut your chauvinistic ass.”
Max stepped aside, placing me between them.
“I’m actually more of a feminist,” he said quickly. “Please, don’t be offended.”
“Tsk,” Max hissed.
I could tell when she was irritated.
Which was… often.
“Her full name is—”
“Don’t you dare,” Max glared at me.
I laughed.
“You hate your name. Why doesn’t that surprise me?” he chuckled. “This way, ladies.”
He showed us around the school, explaining things as we walked.
At least now, I wouldn’t get lost.
“Finally—lost and found.” He stopped in front of a door labeled Lost & Found.
“Can I really get something here?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Thanks.”
I stepped inside and, thankfully, found a clean T-shirt.
“Go change,” Max said, and he directed us to the restroom.
When I came out—
“Perfect fit,” he said.
I had also cleaned my shoes. I looked… almost brand new.
“Thank you so much!” I hugged him.
“At least someone appreciates me,” he laughed, opening his arms toward Max.
She didn’t move.
“Don’t push it,” she warned.
“You really shouldn’t,” I added. “She only hugs me and her mom. Be grateful she’s not being rude right now.”
“Too much information,” Max muttered.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, adjusting his bag. “I’ll see you guys around.”
“Wait—we didn’t get your name,” I said.
“Ricky Hart.”
“I’m Loretta Bennett, and this is my best friend, Max.” I shook his hand.
“Nice to meet you, Loretta… and Max,” he said, smiling at her.
She gave him a fake smile.
“Don’t forget your blazer, Max,” he added before walking off.
“Wait!” Max called, suddenly following him. I hurried after her.
“You saw those girls earlier?” she asked.
“Yeah. Pearl and her minions,” he said casually. “Let me show you your lockers. What’s your number?”
“22,” I said.
“What can you tell us about them?” Max pressed.
“Pearl’s basically a celebrity here. Fashion icon. Very rich. The other two are Daisy and Bloom—they want to be models like her. They claim to be her best friends, but her real best friend is Jasper. They grew up in New York and moved here five years ago. Jasper also has another best friend he met here—he’s actually nice. Unlike Pearl.”
“Big deal. They’re rich,” Max shrugged.
“Everyone here is rich,” he replied.
“What about scholarship students?” I asked.
“I know about three—and they’re all rich too,” he said. “We’ve got super-intelligent, rich kids here.”
“Well, we’re on scholarship—and we’re not rich,” Max said.
“Oh,” he blinked. “Well… see? I didn’t even notice. Don’t worry—nobody cares.”
“I’m not worried,” Max replied.
“Of course,” he smiled, then stopped. “That’s Jasper.”
He pointed.
I followed his gaze—and my breath caught.
It was him.
The guy from earlier.
He stood with two guys and a girl near the lockers, leaning back casually, hands in his pockets. He looked uninterested—but still present.
Tall. Broad. His hair fell to his shoulders, and he ran his fingers through it.
My stomach flipped.
That’s him. Maybe? I don't know, there's something different about him.
Does he look younger?
“Bottom line,” Ricky continued, “don’t mess with Pearl. She can be nice—if she likes you. If she doesn’t… she’ll make your life miserable.”
“Thanks, Ricky,” I said quietly.
“Anytime.” His curls bounced as he nodded. “And just so you know—Jasper’s locker is right next to yours.”
“What!?” I checked my number. “Oh my God…”
“What about mine?” Max asked.
“What’s your number?”
“46.”
“This way.”
He led us across the hallway.
“At least we’re close,” I said.
“Not close enough,” Max muttered.
The bell rang.
“That’s my cue.” Ricky waved and walked off.
“We mostly have the same schedule,” I said, trying to cheer her up.
“Why does mister long hair get the locker next to you?” she snapped, opening hers.
“Not my fault!” I rushed to mine, dropping my bag inside.
Max finally put on her blazer, and we grabbed the same textbook.
“Let’s go.”
Sociology wasn’t bad for a first class.
I thought I’d spend the whole day with Max, but we separated sooner than I expected.
“I’ll see you later,” she said.
“This school is huge,” I complained.
“You’ll find your way,” she said. “I don’t want to be late.”
“I should change this course,” I muttered.
“Oh please. Bye—have fun.” She walked into her class.
I stood alone in the hallway.
Now what?
The only class we didn’t share—our electives.
She chose fashion design.
I chose fine arts.
Out of all the options, fine arts felt easiest for me.
Max was naturally talented in fashion—but she didn’t even like it that much.
Right now, we just needed A’s.
And fine arts would get me one.
I wasn’t perfect.
But I was good.
After wandering for five minutes, I finally found my classroom.
It was beautiful—filled with paintings, sculptures, flowers, and framed by tall French windows.
But it was empty.
“New girl.”
A deep voice broke the silence.
- Writer
