Two packed lanes of traffic delayed me on my way to school that morning. Despite the loud music in my car, raucous laughter pierced through, causing discomfort. I tilted my head to the right to appease them. Strangely, Brennan and Jennifer were in the adjacent car, which struck me as ironic.

"Good morning, Emily," Brennan cooed from his car, gripping the steering wheel. I clenched my teeth and silently hoped for the noise to stop.

Jennifer's fingers traced Brennan's skin as she held onto his biceps. I restrained myself from commenting further. I had a fitting four-letter word in mind for both of them.

Jennifer cooed, "See you around, Emily." It felt like an empty gesture, lacking any real impact.

"Sure, see you," I retorted with a sneer. Eventually, the traffic started moving, but just as I was about to merge into the last lane, Brennan abruptly cut me off, flashing a rude hand gesture and changing lanes with a mischievous grin. I ended up behind them again, uttering another four-letter curse.

✽✽✽

His gaze fixated on me like a predator observing its prey as I quickened my pace, tempted to give him a piece of my mind. His left arm draped casually over one girl's shoulder while his lips locked onto another's. Although I was urged to warn them to escape, I refrained, recognizing it as their choice.

"Dear Emily Hart," Jeremy sneered, pausing his attention from the girls to run a hand through his jet-black hair. By this time, those poor girls should have fled the scene.

He clicked his tongue and inquired, "How's your mother?"

"That's my locker, Jeremy," I growled. Jeremy was prone to dramatics, likely due to his involvement in theater and athletics.

He playfully ruffled the bun on my head and remarked, "Of course it is, Emily." My annoyance was evident as I debated whether to slap him.

"Me and my girls," he emphasized 'girls' with a sly grin, "have a class to attend. Don't you have somewhere to be, Emily?" He added the last part in a low murmur as the warning bell chimed. I sighed and opened my locker.

"What an insufferable jerk," I muttered, attracting a few glances. "Yes, I said it," I admitted, slamming my locker and accidentally hurting my finger. It was too late to take it back.

✽✽✽

"Oh goodie, the whole gang's here," I muttered as I entered the classroom. Cece and her group passed by as I dropped my backpack at the nearest desk near the teacher's podium. Mr. Bellingham seemed unperturbed by Cece's dominating presence and her clique's antics.

A new student named Aaron sat three seats behind me. I'll be honest. My initial impression of him was odd, though he seemed better than Jackson Bennett, who had ambitions of becoming the next James Patterson. Lost in thought, I absentmindedly twirled my pencil. Mr. Bellingham rose from his desk as the final bell rang.

"Good morning, everyone. Please take your seats. That includes you, Mr. Hawke," Mr. Bellingham stated. Jeremy's reaction resembled a giggling nine-year-old girl getting over her first crush as he plopped down in the back row with Cece Greenwood's clique, suppressing his laughter by chewing and biting his lip.

"Before I release you to your respective classes, I have a few announcements to make. First, we have a new student, Aaron Chanson. Would you please come up front?" Mr. Bellingham continued, and the new student stood up, bowed, and then resumed his seat with pride.

"He'll likely be in your homeroom. It is now moving on. Today's lunch will feature pizza. For those who are lactose intolerant, the nurse will provide an alternative. Arthur that includes you."

Arthur's face turned orange and puffy as he held his breath. Suppressing laughter, I bit my tongue and pinched my nose, managing only a soft chuckle.

"It's not a laughing matter, Ms. Hart when someone has a severe condition," Mr. Bellingham's monotone voice was a bit louder than expected, but he swiftly moved on from his reprimand, and I took a deep breath.

"On Saturday, October 27th, just a few weeks away, there will be a Halloween prom night. We'll be seeking this year's prom king and queen. Your behavior will be a determining factor. The principal will post the sign-up sheet on the hallway bulletin board." With the sound of the first bell, he concluded his announcements.

My day had turned for the worse, starting with Aleena Smalls. Her small hand tapped my shoulder, treating me like a piece of wood. As I turned around, her piercing, high-pitched voice assaulted my ears.

"Aleena," I admonished, watching her retreat behind her stack of books. "I've told you countless times I'm not interested in joining a book club." She seemed impervious to my words, persistently asking until I reluctantly gave in. But my response would always remain the same.

"I just thought—" Her words were accompanied by saliva, and I desperately searched for an escape route or a nearby trash can.

"It's not happening, Aleena. Why not ask Arnold?" I pointed toward the couple kissing in the corner as her head turned.

"Arr-Arnold Hemm?"

"Yeah, now go ask Arnold, Aleena," I muttered, giving her a gentle nudge in his direction. I let out a sigh of relief.

"At last, some peace—" I spoke too soon. Aaron Chanson's blue eyes locked onto mine as I adjusted my sneakers. I inadvertently breathed the same air as him due to our proximity, our noses almost touching.

"What do you want?" I hissed.

He stammered, "Uh, I-I'm..."

"I'm not interested."

"I know," he conceded, "but could I, um—"

"No," I firmly stated, walking away down the hall. I swayed my hips, indicating my disinterest. In truth, I couldn't care less. I placed my backpack on the back of a chair and shifted my gaze to the group of laughing fools in the corner. Cecelia and her entourage were inviting disaster.

Cece shot me an irritated look, but I continued to observe them. Brennan whispered into her ear, and she inched closer, encroaching on my personal space. My eyes widened, but I brushed it off, sitting down only to find myself sticking to something on the chair.

"Well, damn." Cece and her friends laughed like a pack of hyenas on the hunt. A frustrated growl rumbled from my throat as I exhaled sharply, gnawing on my lower lip.

"What did you do?" I demanded. Jennifer smirked near the doorway, amused by my predicament.

"Maybe you should be more careful."

"You're not even in this class," I retorted, struggling to stand but failing miserably. "Did you seriously superglue my ass to the chair?" I yelled, tugging at the loose fabric. Their laughter grew louder.

"Perhaps," Jeremy taunted, a smug grin forming. I was tempted to wipe it off.

"Maybe," Jeremy teased. His lips curled into a smug smile, and I wanted to smack it away.

"What's wrong with you?" My pants tore uncomfortably at the seams as I pulled again, trying to free myself from the chaos.

"What? Did you rip your pants?" Cece cooed. With an exasperated scream, I leaped from my seat, inadvertently displaying my dark blue lace panties as the fabric gave way. Storming out of the classroom, I avoided stares while inadvertently showing everyone my "London's finest."

✽✽✽

When I entered his office, Mr. Davis was engrossed in a phone call, revealing my irritated and exposed backside. He quickly diverted his gaze to his desk and adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Ms. Hart, you know the dress code at Payton High, right?"

"But..." I muttered something, only to be silenced by his raised hand.

"I believe that calls for detention, Ms. Hart. You'll need a new pair of pants. Please get in touch with the lost and found." I muttered under my breath while rolling my eyes in frustration.

"Mr. Davis, I extend my heartfelt congratulations. My behind is now a fixture on the chair. I had nothing to do with it."

"Who," he debated with me, interrupting my explanation. "The school fairies? Please leave now before I'm forced to put you on probation."

Since arriving at this school, Mr. Davis seemed to have a personal vendetta against me. My mother had always told him, 'It will never happen, Mr. Davis,' because he harbored an infatuation for her. "You're the head of the school my child attends. We must maintain a professional relationship." We never managed to get along, as the memory resurfaced.

As I stormed through the doorway, I noticed the new boy standing there, evidently enjoying an unobstructed view of my unfortunate situation. I swung my fist, connecting solidly with his nose, causing him to recoil and collide with the wall.

"What's your deal, you pervert?" I muttered something under my breath. Aaron staggered from the wall, his nose bloodied, as he defensively wiped it with his palm.

He began to explain, his back against the wall, "I-I just wanted to see Mr. Davis." A laugh escaped me as I gazed into Aaron's eyes, making him flinch. "Listen, I witnessed Cece's bullying in the classroom. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

I grumbled a curse softly as Aaron winced, recovering from the impact against the wall but refusing to back down. I could feel his breath close by, so I turned on my heels and walked away.

"What?" I exclaimed in frustration. Aaron bit his lip nervously, fiddling with the zipper of his hoodie.

"Could you at least take my hoodie?" he asked, peeling the sweater off his body by its sleeves. A noticeable scent of perfume and laundry detergent wafted from it. Well, at least he showers, I reasoned. He handed it over, insisting, "Just take it." I clutched the hoodie, weighing it in my hands, attempting to decipher the intent behind his wide blue eyes. The hoodie was cozy and warm. He cleared his throat, observing as I tied his hoodie around my waist.

"A simple 'thank you' will do."

"You wish," I muttered as I left him behind.