Broken Glasses [Ongoing]

Chapter Four: I Love It When I'm Right

"Fighting it is hopeless, sinking in your ocean, Just like He designed me to do, Fall into your blue."

[Song: "Blu" (Acoustic) - Jon Bellion

RECAP:

Naomi met with the three transfer students Bennett, Jordan, and Declan at Starbu- I mean Starbooks. Jordan, living in his own world, writes a friendship contract called The Contract of Starbooks for the four of them which he probably got the idea from a TV show. Now they have to go to school the next day to see what's in store for the four of them.

Note: Everything in this chapter is important as is all chapters. There are a lot of hidden details. Even if it sounds boring and you want to skim it, it'll be important in the future from a name to a minor action. Even the songs in the beginning of each chapter! You'll be learning a lot in this book so do your best to understand the concepts and work together in the comment sections to better understand them. You guys are great and I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

~

"You're right on time," I commented as I took a seat at the front. And you actually showed up.

"Of course," Bennett told me as he started up his car. "I'm not one to go back on my word."

We sat in silence without even the radio playing between us. If I thought about it, out of the three of them, I have interacted with Bennett the least with Jordan being the most. I glanced at Bennett who was focused on driving when I saw something caught my eye. For a moment, I thought Bennett had a mole on his earlobe, but it was actually a small black stud earring. He didn't seem like someone who would wear earrings, but here he was proving me wrong. I decided not to bring it up or else I would be admitting I stared at him long enough to notice them.

"Do you need something?" He asked, his eyes still on the road.

I spoke too soon. I should have known better. It's like he has a sixth sense.

"No, nothing," I gracefully stammered out. "Don't mind me. Just being a passenger princess."

Bennett's eyebrows furrowed together. "A passenger what?"

"Please don't let me repeat that," I asked, feeling the heat rising up from my neck to all over my face. "If anything, keep driving and I'll jump out of the car."

He slowly nodded, mostly to himself, trying to understand it. "I won't ask you to repeat yourself."

I let out a sigh of relief.

"... passenger princess," he finished smoothly, his face expressionless despite what he just said.

I put my face in my hands.

As we drove, I began to recognize the area we were driving through. I used to live around this part of the city. It was a decent area but it had its fair share of suspicious activity in its streets and alleys both during the day and the night. After my father's promotion, his request to transfer to the bank's main branch was accepted and my parents couldn't move out of our old place faster and into our current neighborhood where the urban city slowly transformed into the suburbs. The car slowed down a particular block of worn down apartments. Two figures left one particular apartment. After a short exchange and both kissing the other cheek, they parted ways.

"I'm glad that this is how I'm going to start my mornings," Jordan said with a grin as he opened the car door and took the back seat. "No offense Bent but you're not exactly a sight for sore eyes."

"There's always the option of walking to school, Jordan," Bennett informed him as he started up his car.

"Naomi, do you know how amazing Bennett is?" Jordan said eagerly. "He already wakes up early, makes himself breakfast, and picks the both of us up. Just imagine he's now doing that and picking up the three of us. He isn't even a morning person." Jordan snickered. "Trust me when I tell you this but you should never wake him up. He gets grumpy after his naps and-"

"That's enough," Bennett told him curtly. "Naomi, please don't believe in everything Jordan says."

"Don't worry," I assured him. "I don't already."

We were now driving through a nicer part of the city in the actual suburbs with pleasant homes and neatly manicured lawns. I know the area all too well since my father would often take me here for Halloween trick or treating since most of these houses would give out king-size candy bars rather than "fun size" ones. There isn't anything fun about a chocolate bar small enough you can scarf it down in one bite.

"Mornin'," Declan said with a yawn as he entered the backseat with Jordan. "Glad to see that Jordan hasn't driven you out of the car already, Naomi."

I couldn't help but chuckle at that and glanced back with a smile. "Not yet," I told him.

Jordan frowned at the two of us. "Last but least we have Declan and his bed hair gracing us with his presence," Jordan announced dramatically which instantly earned himself a punch on the shoulder.

"This isn't bed hair," Declan snapped. "You wouldn't know the difference anyway since-"

But Jordan has already moved on from the bed hair topic. "Mom," Jordan whined, dragging out the word. "Declan hit me." Declan then proceeded to tell Jordan off in Spanish.

"Is Jordan referring to you or me?" Bennett asked.

"He called you mom yesterday back in Starbooks," I told him. "I'm not here to be a homewrecker." Both Declan and Jordan snickered at my line.

There was a pause as if he was considering it. "I was hoping you could take that title."

"Nice try," I said with a scoff. "You're just trying to push the burden to me."

"I'm not a burden," Jordan argued. "I'm more of a... great responsibility."

"Of my headaches?" Declan asked. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

"You're just admitting you think about me all the time," Jordan said with a grin.

Declan sighed. "One of these days I really will push you out of this car. You just better hope it's not moving when I do."

"As if you would with Naomi around. She's my protection from you," Jordan said before quickly adding, "I'm just kidding, Naomi. Don't hate me."

"That would be difficult," was all I said.

"And don't pretend you wouldn't miss me, Bent," Jordan said, returning back to the original conversation with Bennett. "Fight against the tears. Although I know it won't be a problem since you wouldn't want to ruin the upholstery." Jordan stopped then let out a snort. "Benny here probably has a rain car or something," Jordan said mockingly.

Bennett didn't reply.

"This is the part where you deny it, Ben," Jordan told him.

Bennett still didn't reply.

"Ben?" Jordan repeated.

Bennett still didn't- Oh, spoke too soon.

"We're almost at school," Bennett told us.

Jordan slumped in his seat and crossed his arms. He was frowning at first, but it turned to a smirk. "Fine be like that... Richard." Bennett narrowed his eyes at the rearview mirror perhaps in Jordan's direction.

From what I have witnessed so far, Jordan had several nicknames for Bennett but this one was completely different. Although I had to give him credit for that one.

"Is that nickname both a pun and an insult?"

Suddenly, both Jordan and Declan burst out laughing while Bennett frowned from what I had just asked.

"Is that a nickname?" Declan repeated between laughs. "Dios mio. He only wishes it's a nickname."

Jordan pressed his head against the window, unable to control his laughter. "I still can't believe your parents gave you that middle name on purpose."

"Your middle name?" I asked him.

Bennett sighed. "Not exactly."

He glanced at me before looking back at the road as our school came into view. Students walking to school stared at the car and eyes widened when they saw me inside.

"As I said before, don't believe in everything Jordan says."

-

News spread fast especially within the walls of a high school.

This was already expected since there were some students from our school when the four of us met up in Starbooks, but that didn't make things any easier. From the moment we left Bennett's car, everyone stopped and watched us. Who can blame them when the school's pity case was walking with the three mysterious transfer students after being seen together in a coffee shop the day before? It was obvious that a paper was passed around during our meeting at Starbooks, but they believed it to either be some sort of project report or I was going back to my bullying program from sophomore year. It was better if people still believed the transfer students were my bullies rather than my... friends, acquaintances, random strangers?

It was interesting to see how each of us faced the scrutiny from this sea of attention: Bennett looked forward ignoring everyone, Declan glared at anyone who was unlucky enough to meet his eye, Jordan greeted everyone with a charming smile, and I stared at the ground because it was too early in the morning to deal with this. We decided that we should limit how much we're seen together at school given all the attention we were getting and parted ways once we entered the main building.

Bennett and I walked into our first class, Independent Research. Walking into class together was one thing, sitting next to each other was another. We didn't have assigned seats but being a month into school, it was our unofficial assigned seats. All eyes were on Bennett when he took the desk next to me just as the person who usually sat there was walking up to it. I had to give it to the guy on how smooth his U-turn was when he turned on his heel and wandered around the classroom to find an empty seat for himself.

Some say he still walks the aisles looking for a seat.

"I know you've all been working hard on your projects, but I want to introduce this opportunity to help you better understand your topics," our teacher, Ms. Kaito began. "I'm creating an extra credit assignment to make a research paper and presentation combining two projects together. "If you wish to participate in the assignment without a partner, you can find a topic different from your own and turn in the required items. The deadline for taking this assignment is this Friday."

It was obvious I was going to be doing the optional assignment especially since it'll help me understand my research topic from a different perspective. It just brought to question what the second topic should be. When I get back home, I can look over my work on my laptop to see if there are any topics I can do for this individual assignment.

"I think we should partner up for this assignment, Bennett," one classmate, Lada, said brightly.

Another classmate, Jonathan, rolled his eyes. "Yes, your research on feminism is perfect for his business one."

"It isn't about feminism," Lada snapped. "I'm researching the concepts of toxic femininity and toxic masculinity and their relationship with each other. I've also started looking into the double standard of toxic masculinity in women and toxic femininity in men." She looked at Bennett. "With your research topic, we can focus on their influence in a working environment."

"Well, my research topic is on EPR, or extended producer responsibility, specifically on plastic waste," Jonathan explained. "It's always consumers who are blamed when we should actually be holding the companies who produce them accountable. We're only buying the product, not the plastic packaging. With my research, I can show we can become a circular economy where we're more efficient by reusing or recycling our waste to recreate these products."

Bennett didn't say anything, not even acknowledge he heard them. I figured his silence answered them, turning down their offers. But he suddenly broke the same silence he made.

He tapped the pen in his hand against the table with a steady beat. "Both of your assignments are too specific. They will benefit you more than me," Bennett stated, looking at his pen and not at them.

Lada scoffed. "What do you mean?"

Bennett let out a short sigh at her question, hinting a note of irritation. She stiffened and quickly glanced away, the red splashed across her face.

He stared straight ahead. "Think about it yourself."

Harsh. I grimaced to myself. I couldn't help but feel bad for her.

But it made me consider what he meant. For Lada's assignment, it would be too specific. There are many different types of connections that factor into business. They wouldn't be explored if the focus was only on connections based on gender.

Jonathan frowned but didn't say anything. He must have figured it out himself or wanted to save himself from the embarrassment. The only thing I can think of on how his project wouldn't work is if Bennett didn't want to focus on businesses that only created physical products, but also services.

I was about to look through my notes to see if anything I had written down would inspire an idea when Bennett suddenly asked, "Naomi, I heard your research topic is about mental health?"

I looked at Bennett in confusion for his question. "Yes, I'm researching America's mental health legislation," I told him. "I believe they're currently out of date and/or ineffective. I want to show the country's future if it were or were to not invest in reforming these laws through historic and current trends." I frowned. "But I don't believe we can make a research project with our topics."

"My research has been on the relation of efficiency and effectiveness in the different levels of a business," Bennett explained. "However, I have only been focusing on systematic processes like technological advancement and management structures." He looked at me expectantly.

I took in what he said and it dawned on me. "If companies had better mental health programs and looked after the mental health of their workers, these businesses can be more productive. A research project would help prove that." The potential of this idea made me excited about the results the research could take us.

Bennett nodded. "Both of our topics are broad, but it would be helpful if we look at them at a smaller scale. Do you believe we can make a research project now?"

I was about to respond when I caught the glares from both Lada and Jonathan. I then became conscious of the other eyes on me from my classmates. They were all silently daring me to accept Bennett's offer to work on this assignment. If they can't partner with him on this project, no one should. I knew it was better if I just did the project by myself.

To always be by myself.

I looked back at Bennett and was going to turn down his offer, but just as everyone was looking at me with their own expectations, Bennett was as well. If I was going to turn down every opportunity just because of my pessimistic expectations, I would never do anything.

-

"What do you mean you'll be doing a project together?" Jordan asked in disbelief. "I want to do a project with you, Naomi."

I looked up from my notebook and told him, "Jordan, we sit together in Physics. We have lab experiments and lab reports every week."

The four of us were in our second period AP Language class. The four-seat table the three transfer students always sat at had the last seat occupied me. I'm starting to see how they're able to ignore everyone's stares because of how often they appear. I mean, I'm used to the glares or looks of disgust, but the looks of envy are new.

"Hey, you should work on your project at Bent's place," Jordan recommended. "It's so nice, I always get jealous when I visit. He has an indoor and outdoor pool. Also, what chapter is the reading on?"

"We're on chapter four," I reminded Jordan. "It's an informative essay about the different ways to study."

"And we're in September," Declan added as he took out his notebook. "They're there to work on a project, not to take a dip in the pool."

"Well you should still go then that'll give us a reason to hang out there." Jordan stopped then groaned, putting his face in his hands. "I forgot, I was planning on finishing up my art project afterschool. I'll drop by once I'm done. Don't have too much fun without me."

"If we're hanging out at Bennett's place, I'll come in late too," Declan told us. "For basketball, there's a practice game with a rival team afterschool. I heard they have a good lineup this year."

"It's strange how I never agreed to anything and yet you both already made plans," Bennett said deadpanned.

"You'd never do anything if it weren't for us, Ben," Jordan told him. "Honestly, you should be thanking us." Bennett shook his head at Jordan's words.

"Since I don't have a say in anything, would you like to work on the project at my place?" Bennett asked me.

I considered it. I was the type to work on an assignment as soon as it was announced. Then I'll have more time to work on it. If I do finish it early, I would have time to work on other assignments or relax as a reward for myself.

Plus, there's an indoor and outdoor pool.

"I'm okay with it, but may we swing by my house so I can grab my laptop? All my research work is in there."

Bennett nodded in agreement just as our teacher Mr. Wilkens began today's lecture.

-

I may be a nerd, but I'm first and foremost a human being. That means that I'm happy whenever there's no work to do and that's always the case with substitute teachers.

"Mrs. Merryfield had a family matter and will be away for a few days," the man standing in front of my third period AP Calculus class told us. "You may call me Mr. Gasparyan and I'll be your substitute teacher until she returns. Before we start, I'll be taking your attendance."

As the substitute teacher began droning out names, everyone began to praise the brilliance of Sir Isaac Newton for inventing calculus. Of course not. Everyone was either debating if they should skip the school's lunch today rather than take their chances or about the latest gossip surrounding four unlikely characters being seen together. Although one kid was just telling his friend that Isaac Newton probably died a virgin and deserved it for inventing calculus- a pretty harsh punishment in my opinion.

Mr. Gasparyan paid no mind to the classroom chatter and continued with the attendance. "Lada Ivankov... Martin Jean Baptiste... Samir Khoury..."

"Naomi Lorraine?" The substitute teacher called out.

"Present," I called out, slightly raising my hand to show where I was sitting.

"Rafael Ly-"

"There's a list of preferred names," Declan abruptly stated with his voice tense.

Everyone stopped talking and all eyes were on him. I knew the feeling and I didn't want to be another pair of eyes, but my curiosity betrayed me as I glanced at Declan who was glaring at his textbook. The poor textbook.

"Ah yes, of course," Mr. Gasparyan said before reading the paper again. "Declan Lynch?"

"Here," Declan grumbled.

With that the substitute teacher continued, "Cesar Martinez... Parker O'Neil... Talia Palepoi... "

When the substitute teacher finished up with the attendance list, he allowed for the rest of the period to be a study hall. So, of course, the entire class pulled out their electronic devices or began talking amongst each other now with a newfound conversation topic about a certain classmate. For one pair of classmates talking slightly louder than the rest, Declan silenced them by just shooting a glare. He then pulled out his notebook and began going through this week's chapter. I did the same as I started going over the practice problems at the end of the chapter. When I glanced back at Declan once more, our eyes met and we quickly looked back at our textbooks.

So much for not doing any work when there was a substitute teacher today.

Just like the news that we had all met in Starbooks, the gossip about what had happened in my third-period Calculus class spread like wildfire. Declan and I were going to meet up with the others in the cafeteria for lunch when we overheard one particularly loud conversation.

"You wouldn't believe what happened in Calc today," some guy from our previous class, his name was I think Samir, said excitedly from earshot. "We had a sub and he called Declan, Rafael instead. I told you, his name doesn't make any sense since he's Mexican or something. He probably had to change it when he did underground fights and killed-"

Samir was interrupted when Declan suddenly grabbed the front of his shirt. Declan then forced Samir to walk backward until he was practically slammed against the lockers. He tried to fight against Declan's hold but the attempt was useless. Everyone in the hallway stopped as if any sudden movement would escalate this scene even more.

"Hey pendejo, since you like to talk so much let me tell you something that should spread across the school by the time I get to my next class," Declan threatened menacingly at him.

"I don't care about the stupid rumors you spread about me, but get this straight: my name's Declan. If I ever hear that name directed at me, it'll be the last thing they'll ever say. Do you understand?" Samir nodded weakly at Declan's question.

Watching this scene unfold, I realized it wasn't Samir struggling against Declan's grip because he was frozen in fear. Instead, it was Declan's arm that was trembling, but I didn't know if it was out of anger or something else.

"Declan."

He whipped around and glared at the person who said his name- me. I met his eyes and didn't waver from it. I didn't know where that confidence came from, the confidence in me and my confidence in him, but I knew he wouldn't do anything to me. When he saw it was me, his gaze softened before flickering with a flash of regret that he did all of this in front of me.

"Let's walk away," I told him quietly.

I didn't believe Declan was going to listen to me, but without another word, he let go of the guy and walked alongside me. The sea of bystanders who watched the scene parted for the two of us as we made our way to the cafeteria.

The silence hanging over our lunch table was in sharp contrast to the bustling cafeteria that had our attention directed at us. Jordan and Bennett had figured out by now that all of this attention increased after Declan's scuffle with a gossiper earlier.

I didn't blame Erinma for sitting at the other end of the table practically teetering on her seat. We tried to invite her to sit closer to us, but we couldn't expect too much of the quiet junior. If we pressed any further, it would be like we were coaxing a child into a van with the promise of candy. At least she was sitting at the same table as us in the first place.

Despite everything, Jordan attempted to lighten the mood. "Man, those rumors sure are something else. It's amazing how accurate and inaccurate they are." He nudged my side with his elbow. "Have you heard of my flagpole one? That one's my favorite." Jordan chuckled to himself as he shook his head. "It wasn't a flagpole."

What was it then? "I'm glad to see someone can find some positivity in this," I said dryly.

"That's just my role as the sole optimist amongst all of you pessimists." Jordan suddenly winced and his arm reached out to nurse his back as he wore a pained look on his face. "Ugh, damn."

"Are you ok?" I asked, placing my hand on his shoulder. I was worried some bullies shoved him around after seeing him with me so much.

"No, it's just..." Jordan stopped and flinched when he moved his arm. His hand gripped the table as he tried to withstand the pain. "My back hurts from carrying all of you guys."

"Naomi?" Declan asked as he quirked an eyebrow.

"Already on it," I replied.

Since Jordan was at the seat end of the bench table, it only took a slight shove for Jordan to fall off with a yelp. Jordan sat up cross-legged on the ground and peeked over the table to look at all of us.

"Ok, I deserved that," Jordan admitted, "but can I just say I love how you guys are bonding already? I just have this natural aura that brings people together."

"Hey, Jordan?" I began. "How about you sit back up here so I can push you off the seat again?"

"Nah I'm good," Jordan said with a grin. "I'll just sit here on the ground for the rest of lunch." I offered a hand and helped him back on his seat. Despite how tempting it was, I didn't push him off the bench again.

"I mean c'mon," Jordan told us as he opened his milk carton. "Even though the rumors are really off, they're also kinda close. They decided I'm some kind of player prankster which I don't mind since it's obviously true."

"They labeled Benny over here Mr. Millionaire although they can't agree exactly how he is." Bennett poked the pizza bagel on his tray with a spork, not paying much attention to Jordan's recap of his rumors.

"What's unfair is how badass they made Declan as some sort of underground street fighter who-"

Jordan stopped when I abruptly tugged the fabric of the back of his jacket. When our eyes met, I looked at him, then at the direction of Declan, and back at him.

"I mean... a super talented athlete who's great at every sport," Jordan finished.

Declan looked at both Jordan and me but didn't respond as well.

"We should have realized some rumors would still follow us even to a small school like Dartwell," Bennett said.

"Hopefully those will be the only ones," Declan grumbled.

"So the three of you really did know each other before coming to Dartwell," I commented. "But what made you transfer from your old school?"

"We actually came from different schools," Bennett explained. "We met each other through... certain circumstances."

"But we were able to deal with the situation," Declan told me. "Then we decided to attend a school together for our senior year."

"Just imagine in an alternate dimension when we still had to suffer through it? You can write a book about it. No, a series!" Jordan said with a laugh before faltering, "Not funny? Okay, nevermind..."

"I thought it was pretty funny," Carmen said as she set down her tray on the table and sat next to me.

Carmen González is a senior just like the rest of us and has been one of my bullies since freshman year. It was unusual to see her by herself when she is usually joined to the hip with her clique of friends. She and her friends were the types of bullies who do their work in the locker room or restroom for their dirty work and depended on snide comments outside of it. The memory made me lose my appetite for the already unappetizing school lunch.

But why is she sitting at our table? I looked at the table she usually sits at and saw the group of girls she usually hangs out either glaring daggers or longing looks at our table. When the three transfer students first came to school, they took a table in the cafeteria and were always bombarded with other students who wanted to get closer to them. It only took a week for them to start having lunch outside of the cafeteria when usually you weren't supposed to because it would be more trouble for the custodial staff. I would do the same but sometimes it was better to eat at a table trapped in a room with people who bullied you instead of being caught by school staff by the stairs or in the restroom. Desperate times.

"Sorry for coming to your table," Carmen apologized, specifically directing it to the guys. "But I figured everyone can sit here especially since Naomi and Erinma are."

Carmen looked at Erinma with a concerned look. "Why are you sitting all the way over there, Erinma? You should be sitting with all of us instead."

"It's ok," Erinma stammered out. "I'm fine sitting here. Actually, I can leave if you want. I have something to do for my next class anyway."

"You don't have to do that," Carmen told her with a slight frown. "Sit here closer with us."

"I really should just-"

"Sit. Here." Carmen gave her a smile despite how sharp of a contrast her words are.

Erinma awkwardly got up from her seat and slid her tray down the table as she walked to our end. She let out a shaky sigh and sat next to Declan who had taken his backpack off the table and set it on the floor to give her space. When Erinma accidentally had her elbow bumped against his, she squeaked out a sorry, then scooted a few inches away from him and was left staring at her tray.

Carmen glanced at the guys before looking at me. "I wanted to ask for your help since we have Gov together, Naomi."

We have fourth period AP Government together which will be after lunch. What was so important she had to ask me at lunch instead of before our class? I just gave her the latest short response paper last week and she hasn't asked for anything else.

"What did you need help with?" I asked, trying to hide the suspicion in my voice.

My question snapped Carmen's attention back to me when she was just ogling at the three transfer students instead. "Well we have a chapter vocabulary quiz coming up this Friday and I wanted to know what you do to study," Carmen said with a smile.

This was definitely a first since she either makes me do some of her papers or have me give her an opening to look at some of my answers during quizzes. The latter only worked for multiple choice questions when we used a bubble sheet. They were at least smart enough to know that copying written responses was too much of a risk and had to hope any work they do through cheating will make up for their scores.

"I use Quizlet for vocabulary tests," I told her. "You can turn your sets into games or tests depending on if you're memorizing the meaning or the spelling of the word."

She lit up at that. "Oh, that's great! Give me your- I mean, can you please share with me your set?"

"I haven't made it yet," I lied, giving her an apologetic look. "But if you download the app right now, you can work on it for the rest of lunch."

Carmen glared at me. "I-" Then she stopped and glanced at the guys who were watching the entire scene wordlessly. "You're right, I can do it myself, but can I double-check with your set afterward? I bet your sets will be more thorough than mine."

I hesitated and my eyes shifted at the guys who looked just as confused as I am. So far, Carmen hasn't explicitly flirted much less talked to them, she has only really talked to me and Erinma. I reluctantly agreed. The worst she can do is have me share my set. I usually make my sets public anyway so anyone can use my sets to study with. All I do is make then use the vocabulary sets, if someone finds mine is more helpful than what they created, I'm fine with that.

The table was quiet for the rest of our lunch period. I lent Carmen my textbook as she went through the chapter and made her Quizlet vocabulary set on her phone. Carmen would ask me questions when she was making her definitions and I answered them not because I wanted to help her but because I enjoy answering questions for school.

"Let's walk together to our class, Naomi," Carmen said when the bell rang marking the end of lunch. "Do you want to walk with us, Erinma?"

"I have APUSH with Mr. Rasheed and the classroom is at the other side of the school," Ermina explained.

"Wouldn't his class be in the same building as the rest of the history department?" Carmen asked.

Erinma stiffened then said as she slowly backed away, "I just like taking a longer route to his class. You know, stop and smell the flowers. Ok bye!" I held back the urge to cry out for Erinma to take me with her.

Carmen handed me back my textbook as she told me, "I wanted to test my understanding of the structures and functions of each house of Congress."

She's willingly wanting to talk about a topic outside of the classroom? Now I know something is wrong. My first thought was having one of the guys walk with me but then I realized it wasn't their job to. It was only day one of this "friendship" and I unconsciously already started to depend on them. It was clear from how we spent our lunch that Carmen was going to put up this act with the three of them present, so it was better if the two of us were alone so I can really know what her true intentions were. It's not like it's the first time being alone with her.

"Alright then," I agreed before glancing back at the guys and giving them a quick nod. They mirrored the same emotions I was hiding: confusion and worry. Well, except Bennett. He just gave me a blank stare. You can never really read the guy.

Carmen waved to the guys cheerfully before she began walking away with me. Carmen then asked me, "Do you think Mrs. Davis will want us to talk about the inefficiency in enacting laws in Congress due to partisanship and their unwillingness to compromise- Ok, enough with the act. You need to explain this to me, Naomi."

"Explain how we can solve this centuries-long political war that is bringing this country to ruin?" I asked. "Because I don't know if I can come up with a solution by the time we reach the classroom."

Carmen sighed. "No, of course not. We had a two-party political system since the beginning of our government despite it not being the Founding Fathers' original intention. There will always be political factions with its rollercoaster of clashes and collaborations and the country has no choice but to enjoy the ride."

Ok, wow.

"The three transfer students have always been on their own even though everyone has tried to get closer to them," Carmen told me. "Then one day, the four of you are suddenly hanging out together."

"I've been wondering where your true intentions were," I mused. "Glad to finally meet them."

"Why were you seen at Starbooks together? Did you bring back your bullying business and they have you exclusively or something? Or are you guys friends?" She scoffed, shaking her head as she looked at me in disbelief. "You're not dating one of them, are you?"

"You should join track and field, Carmen."

She looked at me in confusion. "What? Why?"

"You're jumping to so many conclusions that I think you would be great at hurdles. I heard they have spots open."

Carmen glared at me. "I will find out. I was just giving you the chance to tell me yourself. I'm not the only one who doesn't like to see the four of you together." She started walking away when she paused and looked back at me. "And you better not lie to me again. Send me your stupid Quizlet set during class."

-

Jordan clutched the fabric of the front of his shirt and looked dramatically into the distance. "Maybe 'random strangers' will be our 'always',"

"If you keep this up, we can actually be random strangers, Jordan," I said deadpanned.

When we arrived at the front of the nurse's office, Jordan took out his phone and held it up to his mouth. "Breaker, breaker. The eagle has landed in the nest. Repeat. The eagle has landed in the nest. Over."

I laughed and lightly smacked his arm. "Stop being an idiot."

Jordan frowned. "At least give me an order actually possible for me." We both shared a grin at that.

"Um, Jordan...?" A quiet voice asked.

We both turned to see the voice came from a girl, perhaps a freshman or sophomore. She stopped but her friend pushed her forward towards Jordan.

"Oh hey. You're... Oana Dumitru, right?" Jordan asked before scratching his head. "Sorry for that pause there but I remembered thinking you have a really cool name. You're in my art class, aren't you?"

Oana lit up at his words. "Yes! You complimented me on one of my pieces. The watercolor one."

Jordan nodded. "Yeah, I remember. Everyone loved the color scheme you chose. So what's up?" He asked with a smile.

Oana hesitated and glanced back at her friend who gave her "the look". "I wanted to ask you something... privately." She blushed then stammered out, "If that's alright. If you're done talking. And aren't busy. Um, I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry," Jordan assured her as he put both of his hands in his jeans pockets. "We can walk and talk since we have our next class together." He looked at me then gave me a casual two-fingered salute. "I'll see you later, random stranger."

I rolled my eyes and returned the salute. "Goodbye, random stranger," I told him.

As the two of them, well three if you counted Oana's cheerleader, began walking away, Oana glanced back at me. I mouthed to her 'good luck' which made her blush more than I thought was possible.

I entered the nurse's office to find the main nurse, Mrs. Matthews, not there. Walking up to the counter I saw a note from Mrs. Matthews explaining that she had to go to the main office to talk to the principal with some parents about a better program on diabetes management for students in school. Since that might take a while, I decided to do my usual duties of organizing and cleaning the office before doing some of my homework. I was nearly done with restocking the first-aid kits from the supply closet when the door opened.

"If you're Mrs. Matthews, you can tell me I'm your best student worker," I said as I began to put away the last first-aid kit. "If you're a student, you can say the same thing."

"Why would I ever want to compliment you?"

I whipped around and held up the box and threatened, "I have a first-aid kit. I can hit you with this in self-defense and maybe I'll give you a band-aid after. Maybe."

Raymond, with his arms folded across his chest, raised an eyebrow. "Cute."

Raymond Myers is both the school's star quarterback and my childhood bully. We've been attending the same schools since elementary and thankfully the only person who's known me for that long. Up until my freshman year of high school, he was a stark advocate for gender equality and didn't mind bullying me both verbally and physically being the source of several of my bruises. However, since he joined the football team, he had to "clean up" his act and not be so obvious with my bullying save for the occasional shoves and trips. Of course, that didn't stop him from being the leader of guys on or off his team that didn't mind getting their hands a little dirty when bullying me or anyone else.

"What do you want, Raymond?" I demanded.

Raymond put his hands in the pockets of his signature letterman varsity jacket that had our school colors of green and gold. "I pretended that the school lunch wasn't sitting well with me, which is pretty believable, so I could head to the nurse's office. I saw the nurse going to the main office when I was on my way to the locker room, so I took the chance you were stationed here." He smirked. "Guess today's my lucky day."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You still haven't answered my question."

"Give me my Bio homework," he said blankly. "I have to turn it in at the beginning of my first-period class and I don't want to find you first thing in the morning tomorrow since you're not something I want to see so early in the morning."

"I can say the same thing for you. Give your mirror my sympathies," I told him sincerely.

Raymond rolled his eyes and leaned against the counter. "Just hurry it up. Coach Morales told me to not take too long."

"Then I'll take my sweet time just for you," I said as I gave him an award-winning smile. "We only present the best customer service here at Naomi's Doing-Work-Against-Her-Will Services."

"Name needs work," Raymond criticized, resting his head on his hand propped up by his elbow against the counter. "Try making it shorter and catchy."

I scoffed. "Yeah, and your self-proclaimed nickname 'Ray' is any better?" I asked as I dug into my backpack for my folder.

Raymond decided to ignore that. "Why have you been hanging out with those three transfers? I heard you even met up at Starbooks yesterday. Is little Naomi trying to be popular? Or are they making you do their work too?" He mused.

"Why does it seem that it doesn't matter if I answer that or not?" I questioned.

Out of boredom or sadism, take your pick, Raymond knocked over the cup of pens on the counter. "For once, you're wrong. It would matter because it'll mean that the transfers are either with us or with you. And I think we both know what's the better side."

I shoved his homework onto his chest that felt more like a wall. I instantly regretted the thought. Stupid jocks being athletic and muscular. It'll be nerds who will rule the world in the end.

Before Raymond could get a hold of the paper, someone suddenly grabbed it.

"You're still doing other people's homework, Naomi?" Declan asked me.

"Well, it's not like I'm still doing it but more that I already did it," I explained matter-of-factly.

After processing what had just happened, Raymond glared at Declan. "Who the hell are you? Give that back!"

Declan ignored him and continued to look at me. "You don't have to put up with this anymore."

"She doesn't have a say in that. Never has," Raymond snapped before smirking. "You know, she deserves it anyway. She knows it herself." I shot Raymond a glare at those words.

Finally, Declan turned his attention to Raymond and they were left squaring up to each other. The two of them had similar physiques as both of them were active athletes with fit builds. However, that's where the resemblance stops. Raymond has short dark blonde hair, fair skin, and light brown eyes, although he claims his eye color is hazel, but I wouldn't stare at him long enough to confirm it. Raymond has always been proud of his German-Austrian descent especially because Oktoberfest gives him a reason to drown himself in beer with his friends.

"You should know your place, transfer," Raymond told him menacingly. "Do you know who you're dealing with here? You still got a chance to change sides before it's too late."

"You're right," Declan said as he held up Raymond's homework before tearing it in half. "But I don't think I want to be on the side you're in."

I couldn't decide if having a fight in the nurse's office was the best place to have a fight. Sure there are all the medical supplies you need, but I don't want to clean it up after.

To my surprise, Raymond started chuckling. "Verdammt, you've got guts, transfer." He stopped laughing and matched Declan's glare. "I'd start counting your days if I were you."

With that, Raymond left the office. I didn't notice I was holding my breath. That isn't the Raymond I know. He would never just leave especially after being disrespected like that. I knew that this wasn't going to be the end.

"Sorry about ripping up the homework," Declan muttered as he picked up the papers off the ground.

"No, it's alright. I already took the class and the homework was only on the chapter vocabulary," I explained before shaking my head. "But that's not important. You shouldn't have done that, Declan. Out of all the people to have as an enemy, Raymond's the last person you'd want."

"Doesn't matter," was all Declan said.

I let out a sigh. "Seeing that you're here at the nurse's office, let me give you the usual pitch." I cleared my throat before giving him a bright smile. "Welcome to Naomi's medical corner. We only have bandaids and ice packs because we're not allowed to administer any actual medicine. But let's not forget our state-of-the-art ratty old recovery beds to nap in before your parents can pick you up. If you're here just so you can skip class, I'll be more than happy to call your parents to tell them you got lice so you can skip more than just a class."

Declan chuckled. "Do you always say that whenever someone comes in?"

"Not really, but maybe I should," I mused. "So what seems to be the problem?"

Declan held up his left arm which showed a bad scrape from his elbow up to his bicep, I mean upper arm. I held back wincing at the sight of the injury. He suddenly dropped his arm.

"Mierda. Sorry, I didn't give you a warning," Declan apologized. "And um, sorry for cursing in front of you too."

"No, it's alright on both accounts," I assured him with a chuckle. "As for that nasty scrape, it's part of my job anyway. I've seen worse. Please let me see it again." When he did, I took a closer look and frowned. "Looks like a friction burn," I muttered. "Run some cold water on your arm at the sink," I told him as I waved a hand at the direction of the sink. "I'll put some antibiotic and a bandage over it."

Normally, the student worker shouldn't do this, but after working under Mrs. Matthews for so long, she has turned a blind eye and let me fix up minor injuries like this when she's busy or not in the office. I undid the hair tie that I use to tie up my oversized shirt and instead used it to put my hair into a ponytail. As I heard the sound of water running, I went to get the same first-aid kit I threatened to hit Raymond with. Then I slid two chairs next to the desk and set the kit on the table. I put on some gloves and began taking out the necessary items from the kit.

"How did you get it?" I asked him.

"We were doing a three-on-three and I scraped my arm when I tried to keep the ball in the court."

"Did you?" I asked him.

I could hear the smile in his voice. "Course I did."

When Declan took the empty seat next to mine, he asked, "Do you want to go into nursing?"

I let out a snort. "Why? Because I'm part Filipino?" I asked jokingly.

Filipinos have been known to have a large presence in the medical field as nurses. Back when the Philippines was a colony, the United States justified its colonization as a means of bringing education and public health into the country. After creating several nursing schools, the US was able to create a stable supply of a healthcare workforce as they brought Filipinos into the States despite the Philippines itself having a nurse shortage. Presently, Filipinos see nursing as a secure career that will be your ticket to getting a better life when you move to America.

"No, I didn't mean that," Declan defended. "You just seem a real... natural at it." He winced. "That was stupid. Sorry."

I couldn't help but laugh at that. "Maybe that's my genes and the fact my mom's a nurse," I explained as I put the antibiotic ointment onto a cotton ball I held with a medical clamp. "Surprisingly enough, she never pressed me to become a nurse although she has mentioned it a couple of times since I have cousins who are."

"How come?" Declan asked me.

"I asked her about that. She told me that she didn't want me to be a nurse. Wait, hold still," I told him, placing my hand on his arm as I gently put the ointment on his scrape. I then continued, "If I were to go into the medical field, she wanted me to do the extreme and be a neurosurgeon or something. You need a lot of drive and dedication to work in medicine and I've seen my mom work the graveyard shift. You know, she even worked during that global pandemic several years ago."

"Damn," Declan muttered. "I'm glad she went through it just fine."

I smiled at his words. "Yeah, me too. I'm glad our country was prepared and responded well in the beginning or else things would have been way worse. Anyway, I respect the medical field but I can't work in it." Declan nodded and agreed with me.

Once I finished, I set the tool down and was about to grab the bandage when I stopped. "Hey, I think you got more hurt up your shoulder," I told Declan.

Sometimes the pain of one area obscures other areas you've been hurt. Declan was wearing a basketball tank and from where he had originally shown me there were red lines peeking out of his shirt as if it was scrawled from his left shoulder blade onto the back of his shoulder. After a closer look, I realized that they were actually old scars, faint and red.

Declan jerked his arm away and used his right hand to pull his shirt to hide what I have just seen. "No, it was just my elbow," he grumbled.

"Yeah, you're right. Sorry about that. I should probably get my glasses fixed." I would burst my eardrums from how loud I just screamed at myself in my head.

Neither of us said anything as I wrapped the bandage around his arm. "There, all done," I told him with a forced smile.

"Thank you." When Declan turned to look at me, I realized three things. One, this was probably the closest I have ever looked face to face to him. Two, by being this close, I was able to notice his left eyebrow was chipped as if there was a faded scar that broke the line at the near end of his eyebrow. And finally, he still had a faint bruise under his left eye from the time he fought against Marco and Adrian.

"Do you need an icepack or bandage for your um... you know?" I asked when I pointed my own eye.

"No, I deserve it anyway." Declan suddenly cursed to himself in Spanish then apologized for cursing in front of me again.

I would have assured him it was alright to curse in front of me but instead, I asked him, "What do you mean that you deserved it?"

From what I remember, and I have a fairly good memory, Declan set up a fight against Marco to put his arrogant self in his place while he fought Adrian after he harassed me.

Declan looked at me, his eyebrows furrowed together. "I... I suddenly grabbed your wrist," he muttered, now looking away and staring at his hands. At first, they were opened but then he closed both into fists. "I was no better than that guy Adrian. So I gave them that chance to punch me because I deserved it."

I took that in and let out a shaky breath. I turned my bracelet then hung on my left wrist, the same wrist that Declan was talking about. "You shouldn't have to do that. The fact you even bothered to fight Adrian in the first place was enough. So please... don't do that again."

"I'll think about it."

I didn't like that response, but it wasn't like we were close enough for me to make him promise me that. It was already a lot for me to ask him that in the first place.

I stood up from my seat and began cleaning up the table. "Well, good luck with your afterschool game. Go dragons!" I exclaimed with as much school spirit as I had which was absolutely none.

Declan stood up and managed a small smile. "Thanks. And good luck with your research project with Bennett. I'll see you later at his place."

He began walking towards the exit when he suddenly stopped and looked back at me. "Oh, and let me give you a heads up," Declan told me. "When you get to Bennett's place... try not to feel too intimidated."

-

Bennett was waiting for me at the front of the school. He leaned against his car, his arms folded across his chest. He seemed to be staring off into the crowd, whether he was trying to find me or being lost in his thoughts. If he noticed the long stares on him from passing students, he did not show it. One poor kid even ran into a sign when he didn't watch where he was going.

I didn't want to be under the same scrutiny and considered texting Bennett to meet me farther away from school. But I realized it was unfair that he had to be the center of attention because he was waiting for me. The faster I get into his car, the faster we can leave.

Bennett gave me a slight nod when he saw me. I gave a shy smile back. He stood up from leaning against his car and moved his hand to open the car door for me.

"Oh," I said. "You don't have to-"

My sentence was interrupted when I was suddenly shoved from behind. With my balance thrown off, I knew the fate I would have with the floor. I didn't know if I should have braced myself or embraced it with open arms.

But my fate ended up not being sealed.

Bennett stopped me from falling, having caught my left hand with his just as my right hand grasped his shoulder in balance. He easily helped me stand up onto steady feet with the strength of one hand. I was too surprised to be embarrassed, but after that thought I felt the back of my neck feel hot. Looking at me, I was once again the focus of his analyzing blue stare as he wordlessly checked if I was alright.

I was relieved when his eyes left me when he turned to stare down the guy who pushed me. The student himself had his hands up, frozen in the position mid push.

The kid forced out a chuckle. "Uh... hi. Y-you have a nice car..."

Bennett narrowed his eyes then flitted his gaze to the side and back to the guy, silently ordering him to leave, not wanting to waste any of his words.

"Right," the kid said before quickly running away.

"Thank you," I told him. Then I looked down and realized my hand still held his. "Oh um, sorry I-"

Bennett immediately let go, the awkwardness instantly dissipating between us. Without another word, which was usual for him, he opened the car door for me. I didn't know if he did that as a favor for me or if he was efficient with his time. I nodded and quickly got into the passenger seat, waiting for him to get to the driver's seat of the car.

The silence was present as always in the car. It was embarrassing that he saw in a front row seat someone bullying me and that he had to step in to help me. I debated between bringing it up or avoiding the topic altogether. I let out a soft sigh, knowing I should address it. But just when I was even going to open my mouth to speak-

"You don't have to talk about it," Bennett said.

I stared at him, my mouth agape both in disbelief and being interrupted before even speaking.

"How did you know what I was thinking?"

"Your sigh," he explained, his eyes flitting to look at me before focusing back on the road. "It said everything."

"You're... very observant."

There was a beat. "Thank you."

I hesitated but I wanted to fill the silence. "Declan said I shouldn't be intimidated when I see your place."

"Did he?" Bennett asked.

I nodded. "Do you know what he meant by it?"

Bennett paused, considering it, then shook his head. "No, I don't."

I nodded slowly. Declan probably said it to scare me, although it was very out of character for him to. It was more of something Jordan would do.

The silence fell between us again but this time I welcomed it. I watched the window as the streets transitioned between neighborhoods until I recognized we were close to the city's downtown at the edge of the business sector given the tall buildings. Confused, I was about to ask Bennett where he was taking me when the car pulled into a covered driveway in front of a tall building that was too tall to be a hotel but too fancy to be an apartment. There was a stand with uniformed valet waiting outside of the building's double door entrance.

"Welcome back, Signore," the valet greeted as he opened the car door.

Bennett stepped out of his car and gave the valet a short nod. I began unbuckling my seatbelt when I heard the valet say, "Scusi, I didn't know you had someone with you."

I jumped in my seat when my car door was abruptly opened by another valet who motioned with his hand for me to step out. I was escorted by the valet around the car until I reached the curb. Without another word, the first valet went into Bennett's Mercedes Benz and drove the car away. I'm just saying that if it was that easy to steal a car I would have already owned one.

I glanced at Bennett who had taken his backpack off his shoulders and instead held it by a side handle as a briefcase having me realize it was a hybrid backpack briefcase. He has a nice backpack but it was incomparable to my backpack-shield that defended me well two chapters ago. We stood in front of a tall building that nearly glistened from the amount of glass it was covered with. I couldn't help but hate myself for allowing those rumors at school to make me believe I was going to enter a palace or at least a mansion. Of course, I would be lying if I said I didn't want to.

"Welcome back, Signore," the doorman greeted with a kind smile as he opened the door for the both of us, before adding, "And you as well, Signorina."

"Send a car to pick up the usual two," Bennett told the doorman. "Allow them up when they arrive."

The man gave him a curt nod. "Of course, Signore."

Bennett gave him a nod while I quietly thanked him as we passed through the glass double doors that had the building's name displayed above it: Riposante Residences.

How does the lobby seem wealthier than my own home? I knew this was true given the extravagant chandelier that hung in the middle of the room. Everything just seemed to sparkle- the floors, the walls, even the trash cans. How does trash look better than me?

Bennett was greeted left and right by the building's staff, from the receptionist at the front desk to the janitor mopping the floor to make the building shine even more. I had half a mind to compliment him on his work. That barista from Starbooks can learn a thing or two from the customer service in this building.

"Bennett," I began. "Are you sure you don't know what Declan was talking about?"

Bennett gave me a confused look. "No. Do I need to?"

"Um... probably not."

Without even pressing a button, the elevator doors opened just as we almost reached it. Bennett and I stepped inside to be greeted by an elevator operator. "Welcome back, Signore... and Signorina," the man greeted us before pressing the button for the top floor.

Bennett checked his watch that hung on his left wrist, It was metal with the face holding an intricate design of silver and blue. "We can fit in about two hours of work if we're efficient with our time."

"Why give ourselves a limit?" I asked then said with a smile, "Let's aim for three hours of work in two hours."

Bennett glanced at me before he looked back in front of him. "Hm," was all he said, as if he realized a private conclusion to himself.

I arched an eyebrow, unamused by the lack of a response. "What?"

"I just find it interesting," he said.

"Find what interesting?"

"That your humor can compete with Jordan's."

I frowned at him. "I can't tell if that's a compliment or an insult."

He considered it. "Take it as you'd like."

There was a small bell and the elevator doors opened up. We walked a bit down the corridor until we were standing in front of the door of his apartment. Bennett pulled out a keycard from his wallet and was about to open the door when we suddenly heard sounds coming from inside his place.

Bennett's eyebrows furrowed together. He glanced at me then asked, "Please wait here."

When he opened the door, a woman's voice called out in greeting, "Oh, Riccardo."

I saw an older woman who had visible strands of gray hair lost in a sea of raven hair wrapped in a tight bun. Bennett glanced back at me with an unreadable look then went into the apartment with the door slightly ajar.

I stepped away from the door and leaned against the wall at the other side of the corridor so I could only hear just a muffled conversation between the two of them. I straightened back up when the door opened up with the woman stepping out of the apartment.

I smiled at her. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Fra-"

"She isn't my mother, Naomi," Bennett said abruptly.

I froze at the words, heat rising from my neck up to my face. Since she didn't call Bennett "signore" I assumed that she was his mother.

"I'm so sorry," I told her. I'm an idiot, I wanted to finish.

Bennett introduced, "This is Eloisa, a... family friend."

He muttered something in Italian to her and I heard my name being said. The woman smiled at me then told Bennett in a light tone, "Lei è bella, Riccardo." Bennett gave her an unamused look from her words.

They spoke a bit more in Italian before she turned to give me a short nod and I returned one back to her. She then walked down the corridor towards the elevator.

"Why did she say 'pretty' in Italian?" I asked Bennett.

Bennett cleared his throat. "She complimented you." He held open the door for me and motioned his head that I can come into the apartment.

"Yes, thank you," I told him as I walked in. "I'm sorry again for mistaking her for your mother," I said sheepishly. "When will your parents come back? Hopefully, I can make a better impression," I said jokingly. Of course, I knew I wasn't going to meet them given I'll be long gone once we finished up with our work.

Bennett looked confused. "I live by myself. I thought Jordan would have told you."

"Oh, I see," I said stiffly in response.

I instantly regretted what I had just said. I should've told him I was joking. He should've known I was joking.

I suddenly became very conscious that I was alone in the home of a person I didn't know very well. I was closest to Jordan out of the three of them, but since Bennett is Jordan's friend he should be alright. I was so caught up about the group project that I let my guard down. But what can I do, just say I have something else to do and call a Lift? I blamed that guy Aiden, I mean Adrian, for making me this paranoid in the first place.

Bennett looked at me quizzically as if he was trying to read me. Then he went to the door, looking out into the hallway. "Eloisa, scusami," he called out.

He left the room, giving me the chance to silently scream at myself while putting my face into my hands for being a complete idiot. Then I abruptly composed myself once he returned with Eloisa. They spoke a bit more in Italian before he escorted her into a separate room.

"Grazie, Riccardo," she said and after giving me another short nod, she went into the other room.

"I asked Eloisa to rest in the guest room before she returns home," Bennett informed me.

Before I could apologize once more, he slightly held up his hand to stop me. "I should've been more considerate. You can set up in the living room. I'll go get us some drinks. Would you like anything? Coffee, tea, water?" Bennett asked.

I perked up at the question. "Tea please," I replied without hesitation.

"I have black tea," Bennett told me. "I have English Breakfast and Yorkshire."

I hesitated at that. I grew up drinking green or herbal tea used more for calming or medicinal effects than just to keep me awake. Even if I needed to stay awake, I would choose tea over coffee any day. "Do you have any green tea?"

"I have jasmine tea," he offered.

"That would be great. Thank you."

With Bennett at the kitchen, I had the chance to actually take in his place as I took my laptop and notebook out of my backpack. It was what you'd expect from a penthouse apartment with an open living room space, a kitchen, and even a balcony. It would've been a bachelor pad if it didn't have at least two bedrooms from Bennett mentioning a guest room. His place was so tidy, it seemed like no one lived in it.

As I organized my files on my computer, I heard the distinct sound of a kettle whistle announcing it had finished boiling water. Bennett came in with a tray that held two cups of tea and two ceramic containers that I assumed were for milk and sugar as well as a bottle of honey. There was also a plate of a random assortment of cookies.

"So I created a folder," I told Bennett as I typed away into my laptop. "I uploaded into it my individual folder of all of the work I have for my project that you-"

I stopped as I watched Bennett make his tea. He had finished pouring some milk into the cup and was in the process of inserting a spoonful of sugar.

"Is something wrong?" Bennett asked me without looking up.

"No, I just have never really seen someone make their tea like that," I said as I grabbed a cookie from the plate and took a small bite of it, cupping my hand underneath to catch any crumbs that would dare to fall.

He paused and looked up at me then said slowly, "Making their tea... normally?"

"Depends on your perspective," I said with a chuckle. "Ok, let me rephrase that. I usually see people make their tea like that in the movies, but usually, it's the butler." I looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Does that make you my butler?"

"I would have to rethink my life plan if I'm currently a butler," Bennett said as he resumed stirring his tea with the spoon.

He continued. "Usually the host makes a cup for the guest. And this is just how I grew up making tea. It's still quite unbelievable how most people in America microwave water for their tea."

"Yes, because that's obviously bad practice and isn't done because they're too lazy to pull out a kettle," I managed to spill out, averting my eyes from his gaze because I wasn't guilty of ever doing that every time I drank tea at home.

He then set the spoon down and moved his cup of tea to the side before sliding my cup in front of him. "Would you like anything for your tea?" He asked me.

"Just some honey would be great," I said, eyeing the honey bottle shaped like a bear. "Are you sure I can't add it myself? You've already done enough making this cup for me." However, Bennett assured me it was alright.

I took another cookie from a tray. This was getting dangerous and I knew I could finish the plate if I had no self-control. And I know for a fact I have no self-control. "These cookies are great."

"Biscuits," Bennett said as he stirred my cup of tea after giving it a generous helping of honey.

"Sorry?"

He set the spoon down and slid my cup of tea in front of me. "They're called biscuits."

I smiled at him. "For you, I'll call them biscuits. But anywhere else, I'll still call them cookies."

"I'll take it."

I set my laptop on the coffee table, which is ironic in and of itself, and picked up my cup of tea. I took a tentative sip and was warmed by the familiar taste. It's been a while since I had jasmine tea since I currently have lemon ginger, oolong, and genmaicha back in my house which reminds me that I should restock soon.

Bennett took a sip of his tea and exhaled afterward, looking pleased with it. "Have you shared with me the folder of your research files yet?"

"I will after one more sip," I said just as I did so. "So I was thinking that after we go through each other's papers we had to first turn in for Ms. Kaito, we can look into any mental health policies of different companies to get a general understanding..."

The main goal for the first meeting of our group project was to get to know each other's individual research projects and brainstorm on the main plan of our project. It was a lot of independent work between the two of us so there wasn't much of a point to talk to each other unless we needed any clarifications or traded ideas around.

I stretched my arms and sat up from the couch. "At this rate, we really will be doing more than two hours of work." I let out a satisfied sigh and smiled. "I love it when I'm right."

I lifted up the second cup of tea Bennett had made. "This calls for a victory sip. Wait, it's still hot. I regret this victory sip. It's always the ones that you love that hurt you the most," I grumbled as I set down the cup on the table. To my embarrassment, I heard a light chuckle from Bennett.

"Oh, that reminds me," I said. "I was thinking of having some counterexamples by showing companies that either don't have or have poor mental health policies. I started with local companies like W&M Law Firm and AG Financial."

The last one hits close to home since it's where my father works as a financial analyst. It was disappointing to find out that there wasn't a formally stated mental health policy at his work. At least the hospital where my mother works at shares their mental health policy through great detail on their main website.

"W&M and AG?" Bennett muttered to himself, his eyebrows furrowed together as he held a frown. "Are you sure about that?" He asked me.

I felt the heat rise up from my neck and rush over my face. Bennett was clearly intelligent and I've been doing my best to match up with him so he wouldn't regret this group project with me. I made sure that everything I was doing was correct, double-checking, even triple-checking my work.

"Companies aren't required to state their mental health policy and release it to the general public," I said quickly that I was practically stumbling my words out. "My plan was to compare some companies that did state their policies with others that haven't."

"No, I understand your reasoning and it would be great for the project," he assured me which instantly had me slump back against my seat in relief. "It's just that I'm disappointed our companies never officially stated such policies."

"Our?" I asked. "Did I miss something? Do you have a list of companies you wanted to focus on for your individual project?"

Bennett looked at me in confusion. "You don't know?"

I mirrored him as I looked at him back in confusion. "Don't know what?" I asked slowly.

Bennett frowned then leaned back against his chair. "I realized you never have asked anything about me."

"Why should I ask? It's better if you want to tell me yourself. I might learn something about you, but all you'll know about me is that I'm nosy."

He considered it, holding a curious glint in his eyes. "That's true."

Bennett paused, thinking to himself before saying, "You may be confused about several things. If you couldn't already tell, my name is clearly not Italian, it's English. I'm Italian-British, the former from my mother's side and the latter from my father's."

I've never met anyone who was Italian or British and my knowledge about either country and its culture was sourced either from history class and movies whether it was historic or fiction. However, that did explain Bennett's unique appearance of his black hair, blue eyes, and olive skin tone.

Bennett admitted, "I figured you'd know something through a simple internet search."

I quirked an eyebrow at that. "Did you want me to look you up on the internet?" Then I said jokingly as I held up my phone, "I can right now if that's what you want although I never saw you as the egotistical one. Jordan on the other hand..."

"No, of course not. If the PR team has been thorough you shouldn't find anything."

"PR as in public relations?" I asked. "I'm sorry Bennett but if you're trying to be obscure you're doing a terrible job at it."

Bennett straightened himself up in his seat. "I'm just used to people believing they know me when I have never met nor talked to them before. Especially with those rumors going around about me, I expected you to have asked about them by now."

"I think we both know rumors don't mean anything, so unless you want to tell me about yourself, we can continue with our work." I was about to look back at my laptop when Bennett's next words stopped me.

"I just believe that with Jordan's contract I have to tell you about myself."

I let out a sigh and put my face in my hands mostly because of Jordan. Looking back up, I said, "Bennett, that contract is just a formality and I think Jordan got the idea of the contract from a TV show that has this roommate agreement."

"You shouldn't be forced to tell me anything," I explained to Bennett. "It's like a metaphor- there are rules that we're expected to follow, but they're guidelines at best. If you want to tell me something about yourself, it should be your own choice. The same goes for me."

Bennett looked at me as if he was studying me in an attempt of figuring me out. Eventually, he asked me, "Have you heard of Frazier Corp?"

His last name with the shortened word "corporations" at the end? I didn't understand the point of the question but I answered anyway. "No, I haven't."

Bennet nodded to himself. "That's good. The PR team has been doing their job." He paused then asked, "Do you know the city's main hospital, bank, and shopping mall?"

Now I'm confused about the quiz he's giving me. "Yes of course," I told him. "KEBR General Hospital, ZA Financial." It was an easy question since my parents worked there and Cloyne Crossroads is the place everyone goes to either shop or hang out. All three of these places have branches across the country.

Bennett Frazier leaned back against his seat, having crossed one leg over the other. He looked at me radiating some sort of intimidating aura I didn't believe he was conscious of before he explained, "Frazier Corp owns all of them as well as several other organizations in a range of industries, and I'm the son of its founder and CEO."

The brain is our most important organ that takes up only two percent of a human's body weight. Containing billions of neurons, the brain can process and store information in a matter of seconds. So it brings to question how my brain can simply shut down once Bennett Frazier has told me this piece of information.

I've been interacting with the son of the founder and CEO of a business conglomerate to which my parents work for and have the entire city, and maybe other parts of the country, in the palm of its hand. I now understand three things: why Bennett's rumors had the same theme, why Bennett expected me to know something, and why he wanted to tell me all of this himself.

Before I could respond with accurate reactions such as shock and amazement to name a few, I stopped myself. Bennett didn't tell me this to get a reaction that would boost his ego as he never portrayed himself as someone who valued it especially since he never flaunted his wealth to anyone in school. He decided that he will be the one to tell this part of himself, just as I had decided to tell the three of them of my bullying experience. When I realized it, it made me question if Bennett chose to tell me this because I had shared something personal as well.

"I appreciate that you trusted me enough to tell me this," I told Bennett with a sincere small smile.

There was a flash in Bennett's blue eyes. "Is that... all?"

"What do you mean?"

"I just never had someone react like that before," Bennett admitted quietly. "Declan thought it was a joke and Jordan asked if he can get a percentage of my savings."

Despite knowing Jordan for a short amount of time, I had the urge to smack him at the back of his head and apologize to Bennett for him.

"Well, unless you want your family's company to be the only defining thing about you, then nothing has changed from how I currently see you."

He looked at me curiously. "How do you currently see me then?"

"Well, let's see here..." I said before counting off the list off my fingers. "My chauffeur, my butler, and my research partner."

I shared a smile with him. "Now then, I think this has been long enough of a break. Let's get back to work, research partner."

-

"What's this?" Jordan demanded when he came into the apartment. "You guys were supposed to be working on your project!" He exclaimed.

What Jordan was referring to was me and Bennett working on our research project. I sat on the couch with my laptop placed on my lap while Bennett sat in an armchair on the other side of the coffee table. Schoolwork and papers were scattered on the coffee table and couch as we had printed out a few diagrams so we can draw over them to better understand different management structures.

"This is what studying looks like," I informed Jordan.

"Hey Jordan," Declan said, "there's an indoor and outdoor pool you can use after she just roasted you."

Jordan sniffled. "Maybe I will go and you're not invited."

"You need keycard access for both pools," Bennett told Jordan when he suddenly stopped typing on his laptop. "Wait, how did you open my door?"

"A magician never tells his secrets."

"He picked the lock to show off," Declan explained as he handed the smug Jordan a five-dollar bill. "Can I refill my water bottle, Bennett?" Declan asked which Bennett nodded in allowance.

"I would've used the keypad but you change it every two weeks," Jordan told him as he plopped down on the couch beside me.

Bennett stared at him. "How do you know I change it biweekly?"

"A magician never tells his secrets," Jordan said offhandedly before picking up one of the papers. I noticed that his fingertips were stained with paint.

"Were you able to finish your art project?" I asked Jordan.

"Huh?" Jordan looked at his hands. "Yeah, I was able to. We had to do this abstract art. I hate abstract. Honestly, I just splashed random colors. Hope I get an A," he said with a grin.

"And how was... Oana's work?" I slid in, trying to fight back a smile.

"Who's that?" Declan asked as he came back to the living room drinking from his water bottle.

Jordan rolled his eyes. "She's a freshman classmate and I wasn't able to see her work." He looked at me who was now fully smiling. "Alright, she confessed to me. Honestly, I thought those only happened in anime. I turned her down but she took it well."

"What's this?" I mused before saying dramatically, "Jordan Wallace. Artiste. Lockpicker. Heartbreaker."

"Jack of all trades," Jordan said with a wink. "And that's only the start."

I decided not to inflate his ego any bigger. "How was your practice game, Declan?"

"Great actually," Declan said, leaning against the arm of a couch. "They were pretty good, but we won 54 to 42."

"Have you decided what team you'll be joining- soccer or basketball?" I asked him

"Nah, I might wait until a few more scrimmages from either team before deciding," Declan explained. "The guys in fútbol are talented but they're all jerks. The guys in basketball are nice, but their coordination needs work."

"Tough break. Well, I hope you end up choosing a team, Declan," Jordan said sincerely.

I was surprised. "Wow, that's really nice of you to say, Jordan."

"Let him finish," Declan told me.

"Because either way, then you can trip and break your face," Jordan finished before childishly sticking out his tongue to mock Declan.

"Let this be my lesson," I said with a sigh. I looked at Bennett. "I think this marks the end of our productivity."

"I agree," Bennett said as he closed his laptop. "Do you guys want anything?"

"I'm good since we have these cookies." Jordan gasped. "Oh, bloody hell. I apologize, my good sir. I meant to say biscuits," he said in a British accent, or what the British would call it, speaking normally. Bennett let out a sigh from that.

"Did Big Ben here tell you he's Mr. Multi-Millionaire, Naomi?" Jordan asked. "Don't bother asking him to be your sugar daddy. I was in line first and I'm this close to getting into his trust fund."

I pushed him at his shoulder. "You're terrible," I told Jordan before looking at Bennett. "There's always a restraining order," I offered to him.

"Don't worry, I know that Jordan is joking." Bennett paused and looked at Jordan who gave him a cheerful smile. "I hope Jordan is joking."

"Also, after thinking about it, I have to make sure," I told Jordan. "You got the contract idea from the roommate agreement in the TV show The Big Bang Hypothesis, right?"

Jordan held up his hand, and after rolling my eyes, we high fived. "I love it when someone knows pop culture. Expect more from now on until I die."

"It could be right now, Naomi," Declan offered. "Just say the word. I would be doing all of us a favor."

"Um, ouch," Jordan scoffed. "Oh and before I forget, and that's pretty often, how was your day, Naomi? Has your life turned around since yesterday? I'm aware of my effect on people."

"What sort of effect?" Declan asked him. "I'm between disappointment and embarrassment."

"No one asked you, Lynch," Jordan said, waving off a hand to him.

"Well, it was... unique," I said after finally finding the best word. "For once, everyone steered clear of me mostly because they didn't know what they should do. They didn't know if we were friends or you guys were my bullies who have me to yourselves."

"Ding!" Jordan chimed.

I leaned away from Jordan, giving him a confused look. "What was that?"

"That was my lightbulb sound effect," Jordan said, raising his hand above his head and making a flashing motion with his hand. "A lightbulb means you have an idea and the sound goes ding. Onomatopoeia anyone?"

"I thought it sounded like a toaster oven bell," Declan said with a shrug.

"I say it was more of an elevator bell," I argued.

"Well, it was my lightbulb sound effect," Jordan defended. "Anyway, ding, I have an idea."

Bennett began, "I feel that even if we say we didn't want to hear it-"

"- you'll still hear it and love me and my genius?" Jordan asked. "That's obviously true, Bent. Ok but seriously, hear me out."

Jordan Wallace then asked us a question that consisted of five words: "What if... we bully Naomi?"

Anthropologist Robin Dunbar of the University of Oxford is known for Dunbar's number of 150. Every individual can maintain up to 150 significant relationships at the same time. However, he never considered the rise of social networking that allowed us to increase our memory capacity and ability to connect with more relationships. Regardless, that might not matter here because I was about to lose three of what I could have originally considered relationships.

"I have to give it up to you guys for creating this elaborate plan up to this moment," I told them, my voice surprisingly calm. "You really had me fooled."

Jordan paused then quickly explained, "Ok, I know it sounds bad but you didn't let me finish. Today was just the transition stage, the commercial break. But by tomorrow, depending on how we act in front of everyone, that'll decide how they would treat all of us." Jordan stopped and looked at me, making sure I was still following and not out the door. "If we're friends, then they'll make hell rain on all of us. But if we pretend we're bullying you and, thanks to the rumors about us, only have you exclusively, then we're all left alone just like today."

I looked at Jordan in disbelief. "Ding."

Jordan broke into a bright smile matching my own. "Ding."

"Wait," Declan said, stopping us, "it sounds crazy enough to actually work but didn't anything we did today gave us away? I don't know if I can remember everything, but one slip up won't make this plan work. Does anyone remember how the four of us interacted today?"

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Then I began to list out all of our interactions starting from the moment we all left Bennett's car in the morning to when Bennett and I left school for our research project. It was like listing out a history timeline for class.

"In the end, there are five instances that we can try to twist in our favor," I concluded. "Bennett made me be in the group project so he can keep an eye on me. I stopped Declan from... having us be late for lunch. There was Carmen with the four of us at lunch, but she didn't know what to make of it. Jordan is just naturally friendly so we can try to spin it for Physics as always." I frowned. "Then there's Raymond at the nurse's office but it could just have been..." I struggled to find the words.

"Declan and Raymond fighting to be alpha, probably measuring-" Jordan stopped and flinched when Declan raised his fist and glared at him. "Shoe sizes! I was going to say shoe sizes! Ok, not actually, but the moment I said it, I regretted it."

"From now on, you need permission to speak, Jordan," I told him to which Jordan nodded in agreement.

"We can review how we're going to make tomorrow to work then," Bennett said.

Jordan's hand shot up and he eagerly waved it around like a student begging for a teacher to choose him. Jordan looked at me excitedly and even used his other hand to point at his raised hand.

I shook my head, smiling to myself. "Yes, Jordan. You may speak now."

"Naomi Lorraine," Jordan said with a sly smile on his face, "prepare to be bullied."

~

Quite the long chapter we got here. I actually wanted to cut some parts but all were important into the upcoming arc. This might be around the average or maximum length for the rest of the chapters since I want to condense the number of chapters for this story compared to TGGBB.

Readers have asked if COVID had happened in this book or if it was pre or post COVID. I decided to set the book in America in my own imaginary city in a universe when America and the whole world responded well to COVID-19 so the book can acknowledge it happened but not have it affect everyone's social actions in the book.

Do you guys want a review of each chapter in the author's notes so we can collectively discuss what happened and what might happen next? I love it when readers theorize and discuss amongst each other. I can make a few points and you can comment on your thoughts about them. You can comment on other parts that interest you.

We learn there is a wide variation of the housing and financial situation of each of the four main characters. I wonder if it'll be important later.

Rafael Lynch? Who dat? Why dat?

Carmen González. Is she going to be important? Do we wave her off as some mean girl?

Raymond Myers. I love it when he and Naomi banter, but what's his deal?

Bennomi, I mean Bennett and Naomi having a research project together. Will the project itself be important to the story?

Ding! What's going to happen next?

Now then, here's the character profile of Bennett! Please be on the lookout for an update when our awesome artist Pekgna has the chance to draw him out. If you don't know, they have also drawn out Naomi and Jordan in the last two chapters.

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Name: Bennett Richard/Riccardo Frazier

Birthday: September 30

Height: 5'11" (180 cm)

Personality: ISTJ-A

Ethnicity: Italian-British | Italian (Mother, Teresa) / English-Scottish (Father, Benedict)

Appearance: Wavy raven hair styled with a side part, light blue eyes, Olive skin tone, Small black stud earrings

Wardrobe: (Smart-Casual/Preppy) Button-down under a formal sweater or either by itself / dark khaki pants, Overcoat / sweater and dark fitted jeans, Smart-casual shoes like men chukka boots or low-top sneakers

Likes: Chocolate, Blue, Chess

Dislikes: Suits, Take-Out, Brunch

Facts:

- He hates being compared to Rikkard Ambrose mostly because he doesn't know who that man is. Despite this coincidence, he introduces himself as Bennett Riccardo Frazier while his father introduces him as Bennett Richard Frazier despite the former being on his birth certificate. His mother's side of the family calls him Riccardo while his father's side of the family calls him Bennett.

- In his spare time, he plays chess on his phone either against the computer or a random person online. Sometimes he does the chess puzzles as well. He hopes to find someone who he can play chess against in person though.

- He can speak fluently in Italian, Spanish, and French. He's currently learning Mandarin and is supposed to learn Portuguese, Russian, German, Arabic, and Japanese in that order due to his father's company's business partners.

Artwork blessing our unworthy eyes was created by Pekgna.
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Thank you for reading the chapter and I hope you enjoyed it! Until next time!

Rubix