Summer Jennings stepped through the gates of Eastwood High like a silent shadow. Dressed in a black hoodie, forest-green cargo pants, a worn black backpack, and matching black headphones that hugged her ears tightly, she moved with quiet purpose. Her straight hair framed her face as she dragged her feet in a pair of dark grey Crocs unapologetic and indifferent. Heads turned. Whispers fluttered through the air like wind in leaves. Students watched her, eyes tracing every step. But Summer hated attention. She turned up the volume in her headphones and kept her gaze locked forward, carefully avoiding eye contact. She kept walking, shoulders slightly hunched, shielding herself from the spotlight she never asked for.
Yet... something felt strange.
Students began stepping aside, parting the hallway like she was royalty. Confusion settled into her chest. Why were they doing that?
She glanced around subtly. The stares, the murmurs they couldn't be about her... could they?
Unbeknownst to her, the true cause of the reaction strutted behind her with lethal elegance;Madison Carrington. The queen bee of Eastwood. Her presence was magnetic, powerful, and terrifying. No one dared to cross her.
Madison wasn't alone. Her two loyal satellites, Bianca and Vanessa, flanked her sides like fashionable bodyguards.
Madison's outfit was a direct threat to every fashion code in the school: glossy black high loafers clicked against the polished floors, paired with a pink, dangerously short suit skirt that flaunted her flawless, fair legs. A matching pink blazer hugged her waist, adorned with pearl necklaces, gold bracelets, and a designer wristwatch. Her jet-black tote bag swung at her side like a weapon. Her hair? Straight, shiny, parted with precision a living ad campaign.
She walked like a storm beautiful, destructive, and impossible to ignore.
Summer was still unaware. She thought the students were reacting to her, and her stomach twisted at the thought. She didn't want the spotlight.
Then it happened.
As the two forces collided in the hallway, Madison brushed past Summer—but not gently. With an icy smirk, she shoved her hard to the ground, as if Summer were nothing but a piece of lint on her pristine path.
Gasps echoed around them. But no one moved to help. They just stared... then walked away, pretending nothing happened. Madison and her girls didn't look back—they just sashayed forward like models on a runway, their heels clicking in perfect sync, their aura untouchable.
Summer blinked, stunned on the cold floor. Her palms scraped, heart pounding. She sat up slowly, still dazed, still invisible.
Then, a shadow blocked the light.
"Hey, dude. Get up," a deep voice said.
She looked up. A brown-skinned guy with calm, magnetic eyes stood before her. He wore a black tee, black pants, and fresh Nike sneakers. Earpods hung from his ears, and silver earrings glinted under the hallway lights. His braids were clean and neat. He looked cool effortlessly cool.
Without hesitation, he reached out a hand.
Summer hesitated, then grabbed it. He pulled her up gently.
"What class you headed to now?" he asked, a slight smirk on his face.
"English," Summer replied, her face blank, her tone flat.
"No way—same here, bro."
She flinched inwardly. Bro.
She hated it. He thought she was a guy. Just like everyone else. But she kept her expression cold, unreadable.
"I'm Zayden Walker, by the way," he said, walking beside her.
Summer didn't respond. She simply slipped her headphones back on and turned away coolly.
Zayden blinked, surprised, then chuckled softly. "Yo! Do you even know where you're going, new kid?" he called out, jogging after her.
She didn't answer.
Summer kept walking, her steps steady and calm, headphones still blasting in her ears. Suddenly, Zayden caught up to her, a teasing grin spreading across his face.
"Yo, bro, chillax. You don't even know where the class is," he said, laughing.
But Summer remained indifferent, eyes fixed ahead, lost in her music.
"We're almost there. Take off your headphones," Zayden urged, pulling one earpod out and holding it in front of her.
She didn't hear him.
With a swift, playful smirk, Zayden snatched the other earpod right out of her ear and darted away, his laughter echoing down the hallway.
Summer didn't chase him. Instead, she narrowed her eyes and traced the classroom he disappeared into.
That must be the English classroom, she thought, her expression unreadable.
Without hesitation, she headed straight there.
As Summer stepped into the classroom, her eyes scanned quickly, hoping to catch a glimpse of Zayden—but he was nowhere to be seen. Without hesitation, she found an empty seat and sat down quietly, waiting patiently for the English teacher to arrive.
At the front of the room, Madison, Bianca, and Vanessa huddled together, whispering with the kind of glee only high school queens could master.
"Did you hear about the new girl?" Bianca asked, eyes sparkling with mischief.
"More like the new boy," Vanessa sneered, and the three burst into laughter.
Doesn't she know first impressions matter?" Bianca added, rolling her eyes.
"Maybe that's all her parents could afford," Vanessa chimed in, smirking.
"Yeah, so no personal savings either," Bianca interrupted, looking down her nose.
Madison, growing bored with the lack of drama lately, stood up and sauntered toward Summer, her two followers trailing behind like loyal shadows.
"Hello, new girl," Madison said smoothly, stopping just inches from Summer's face.
Summer met her gaze, expression cold and unreadable, wishing her headphones were still in place. She didn't recognize the girl who had shoved her earlier.
"How much money do your parents make?" Madison asked, voice dripping with condescension.
"Six figures," Summer replied, her tone icy.
"Six figures? How cute," Madison smirked. "Mine make seven. We own a country club, a private jet, and a yacht. This school is for the elite, sweetheart. Six figures? That's a bit of a stretch. Honestly, I'd never be caught dead in those fake Dolce and Gabbana." Bianca and Vanessa chuckled behind her.
Madison was about to continue her verbal attack when Ms. Taylor entered the classroom.
"Attention, everyone," Ms. Taylor said kindly but firmly.
"Get seated," Chloe, the class rep, ordered, and Madison and her clique glided back to their seats, hips swaying with practiced ease.
The room fell silent, but Summer couldn't resist.
"I'm sure your bank account is as inflated as your ego, insect-minded moron," she shot back coolly.
A ripple of quiet giggles spread through the class, even Ms. Taylor smiled slightly, but Zayden laughed out loud—his laugh fearless, confident, and honestly kind of cute.
"What did you just say?" Madison hissed, her voice barely controlled.
Before Summer could answer, Chloe cut in sharply, "Ms. Taylor's waiting…"
The room snapped back to silence.
Ms. Taylor was easygoing she didn't care about bad habits, especially when it came to Madison. She was here to teach and collect her paycheck.
The lesson began, and everyone focused except Madison, whose mind raced with ways to ruin Summer's senior year.
Time passed, the bell finally rang, and class was dismissed.
Summer wasted no time rushing to her next class. For the rest of the day, she carefully avoided any class that involved Madison, her clique, or even Zayden not because she was scared but because she don't want further drama in her first day of highschool
As soon as school was dismissed, Summer stepped outside and spotted her Harley. She walked over, climbed on, put on her helmet, and sped off like a maniac. After riding for a while, she decided to stop by the grocery store to grab some snacks.
As soon as she entered the store...