A Bad Boy in my life

Ten

With a stroke of luck, I step into the classroom just in the nick of time. Before settling into my seat, I sweep the room with my eyes, searching for a familiar face among the sea of students. There she is—the redhead. I make my way toward her, weaving through the cluster of people gathered at the back of the room.

"Here's your assignment," I offer, extending the paper to her. She takes it with a nonchalant expression, gum popping in her mouth as she chews.

"Thanks," she replies, a hint of satisfaction in her voice.

"Oh, by the way, how's your brother doing?" I inquire, trying to maintain a casual demeanor.

"What brother?" she retorts, catching me off guard.

Well, that was a feeble attempt to elicit sympathy and convince her to let me handle the assignment. How foolish of me.

"Never mind, must have been a mix-up," I force a smile, hoping she doesn't see through my charade.

Just as I'm about to retreat to my desk, a flicker of curiosity compels me to turn back.

"What's your name?" I inquire, trying to bridge the gap between us.

"Sasha," she replies, a touch of condescension coloring her tone.

I nod, acknowledging her response, and return to my seat, my thoughts consumed by what Maxon had divulged earlier.

The day unfolds like any other at school. There isn't much to recount in these hallowed halls; I merely exist within the confines of the classrooms. I don't seek camaraderie, nor do I engage in conversation. The faces around me are unfamiliar, and I prefer to keep it that way. Call me aloof or introverted, but in a world where everyone is a stranger, there is little allure in seeking connections that hold no significance.

As I arrive home, ten minutes pass before my mother emerges, her face adorned with a broad smile.

"Daughter, I have extraordinary news for you!" she exclaims, her excitement palpable.

"Am I going back to Seattle?" I ask, my anticipation barely contained. My mother's ironic gaze speaks volumes.

"No, but I believe you'll be thrilled nonetheless."

"Enough with the suspense, tell me already," I plead, my anxiety mounting.

"Mr. Stirling has secured a scholarship for you at one of Toronto's finest schools."

My eyes widen, a spark of hope igniting within me.

"A scholarship? How on earth did he manage that?" I blurt out, stunned by the revelation.

"The Stirlings hold considerable sway in these parts; it was an effortless task for them."

"So... I won't have to endure Jackson Park anymore?" I inquire, seeking confirmation.

"Starting next week, that chapter of your life will be closed," she responds, her words lifting a weight off my shoulders.

I exhale, releasing the breath I didn't realize I had been holding, my hand instinctively pressed against my chest. This unexpected turn of events fills my day with newfound radiance.

"Thank you, Mom. Truly. I can't believe it," I exclaim, enveloping her in a tight embrace.

"No need for gratitude," she insists. "Mr. Stirling is currently at the spa. Once he returns, you can go and express your gratitude to him. But for now, I need your help with cleaning the windows alongside Clarke."

I nod in agreement.

Slipping on my headphones, I immerse myself in the infectious melodies of Taylor Swift's "Shake It Off" as I diligently wipe the glass clean. My body sways in harmony with the music, allowing myself to be carried away by the rhythm.