Lexi stepped hesitantly into her first-period classroom, clutching her books tightly against her chest. The space was a far cry from the pristine, orderly classrooms of her private school in New York. The desks were mismatched and graffiti-covered, and a steady hum of chatter filled the room. Students lounged in their seats, some scrolling through their phones, others tossing crumpled papers at each other. The teacher, a middle-aged woman in a rumpled cardigan, barely glanced up as Lexi entered.


    Lexi’s sharp blue eyes swept over the room, taking in every detail. Her designer outfit—a crisp white blouse, tailored plaid skirt, and pristine sneakers—seemed to glow under the flickering fluorescent lights, a stark contrast to the casual hoodies, ripped jeans, and sneakers that everyone else wore.


    “New girl alert,” someone whispered loudly, and a ripple of murmurs spread through the room. Lexi’s cheeks flushed, but she lifted her chin and made her way to an empty desk near the front.


    As she settled in, Dante sauntered into the room, his ever-present grin firmly in place. Spotting Lexi, he made a beeline for the desk behind her, plopping down with an exaggerated sigh.


    “Well, well, well,” he drawled, leaning forward. “Look who decided to grace us with her presence. Miss Manhattan herself.”


    Lexi shot him a withering glare. “Do you mind?”


    “Not at all,” Dante replied smoothly. “But I gotta say, you’re kinda killing the vibe. Sitting up front, all stiff and proper. You planning to take notes on how to survive Southside or something?”


    A few nearby students snickered, and Lexi’s grip on her pen tightened. “Maybe if you focused on your work instead of running your mouth, you’d actually learn something.”


    Dante laughed, the sound rich and unbothered. “Oh, she’s got fire. I like that. You’re gonna be fun to mess with.”


    Before Lexi could respond, another voice cut through the noise.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    “Yo, Dante, leave her alone.”


    Lexi turned to see a girl standing in the doorway, her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and a hockey stick slung casually over her shoulder. She wore a Southside High hoodie and jeans, her stance relaxed but commanding.


    “And who are you?” Lexi asked, her tone icy.


    “Bianca,” the girl replied, her dark eyes sharp as they assessed Lexi. “I’m on the hockey team. Heard you play. Thought I’d see what all the fuss is about.”


    Lexi raised an eyebrow. “And?”


    Bianca smirked. “And you better be good, or you’re not gonna last five minutes on that ice.”


    The tension between them crackled, drawing the attention of the entire class. Dante leaned back in his chair, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.


    “Y’all are gonna be fun to watch,” he said, shaking his head.


    Lexi turned back to her desk, fuming. She wasn’t used to being challenged like this, and the chaos of the classroom was already grating on her nerves. But if there was one thing she hated, it was losing—and she wasn’t about to let anyone here see her crack.


    <hr>


    Across the school, Jordan walked into his own first-period class, his gaze scanning the room for an empty seat. Unlike Lexi, he was less concerned with making a statement and more focused on figuring out where he fit in.


    “Yo, over here!” Marco called, waving him over to an empty desk near the back.


    Jordan slid into the seat, nodding a silent thanks. Marco wasted no time, turning to him with a wide grin.


    “So, New York, huh? Bet this place is a whole lot different.”


    “You could say that,” Jordan replied, his tone neutral.


    Marco chuckled. “Man, you’re quiet. Bet you’re the strong, silent type, huh? The girls love that.”


    Jordan gave him a faint smile, not entirely sure how to respond.


    “So, what position do you play?" Jordan asked, changing the subject.


    "Wide receiver. But that’s just for now. My real dream? Music. I’m gonna be the next big thing in hip-hop. Got a whole mixtape in the works.”


    “Sounds cool,” Jordan said, genuinely intrigued.


    “It is,” Marco said confidently. “You should come check out my set after school. A bunch of us hang out at this spot nearby—The Underground. It’s chill, and I might even spit a few bars if the vibe’s right.”


    Jordan hesitated. The idea of hanging out with a new crowd in a completely unfamiliar setting was daunting, but Marco’s enthusiasm was infectious.


    “Yeah, maybe,” he said finally.


    “Cool,” Marco said, slapping Jordan on the shoulder. “You’re gonna fit in here, man. Trust me.”


    As the teacher called the class to order, Jordan found himself relaxing slightly. Marco’s laid-back energy was a welcome contrast to the tension he’d been carrying since they’d arrived. Maybe Southside High wasn’t going to be as bad as he’d feared.