“Hard to believe you were only three minutes late this time!” My childhood best friend, Stacy, sat at the desk next to me in the back of the classroom near the windows. The drone of students chattering filled the room. There were around thirty of us in total. Some of them I (unfortunately) knew from previous years classes. 

Thankfully, I didn’t see that weird guy in my class.

I grinned. “Yeah, it was hard to keep sleeping through the smell of bacon. Rini knows me too well.”

Stacy nodded vehemently, her short blonde curls bouncing. “That girl is smart. It took me like… ten years before I knew how to deal with you.”

Stacy had always been pretty, studious, and kind—pretty much the opposite of me. Rini had mentioned a few times that “Stacy was Magical Girl material” and that she “didn’t know how the two of us could be friends.”

Jake, a brown mousy haired boy with tan skin and a dimpled smile, sat sideways in the desk in front of her. I’d met Jake around the same time as I met Stacy, around second grade. They both lived a few doors down from me. We spent much of our childhood riding bikes and exploring the neighborhood together.

Normally I couldn’t stand people. They just weren’t worth the momentous amount of effort it took to maintain or create friendships. 

But Jake and Stacy were different. Talking to them felt natural and easy.

And as long as I had them, I didn’t need anyone else.

“Psh, Nyx has always been like that though,” Jake said, grinning. “You know. A pain.”

I rolled my eyes and kicked the back of his chair. 

“Better watch it,” I said jokingly, giving him the side-eye. “I know where you live.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I keep telling my parents we need to change our address. But they never listen.”

Stacy giggled and turned to her textbook, flipping through the pages. “I’m just super happy we’re all in the same class together.”

“Yeah, pretty lucky if you ask me,” I said, “I mean there’s what, fifteen other classes? What are the chances all three of us make it into the same class?”

“I think I know where you’re getting at, Nyx.” Jake said with a grin, leaning over and eyeing Stacy. “I don’t suppose miss chairman’s daughter over here has anything to do with the ‘lucky’ class assignments.”

A blush spread over Stacy’s cheeks. She kept flipping through her book, not meeting their gaze. 

“I don’t have that kind of power,” Stacy said adamantly, “If I could pick our students, do you think I’d have added Priscilla and her groupies to the list?” 

I followed Stacy’s gaze to the opposite corner of the room where Priscilla and her friends sat. Priscilla had long, meticulously curled brown hair, perfectly manicured nails, and a wide smile that looked as fake as her makeup-masked face. Since our school had a dress code, Priscilla always made sure to differentiate her appearance through expensive and shiny looking hairpieces and purses.

I personally thought that she looked like a snake, but apparently my judgment was clouded because boys fawned over her like sheep since middle school. 

Priscilla had been a thorn in their side since grade-school—always picking fights with them whenever she could. I couldn’t for the life of me remember why our feud even began, it was so long ago. Stacy had even been friends with her once-upon-a-time.

The room quieted as their professor, a balding but kind looking man in his forties, walked in and started setting up his laptop.

The professor cleared his throat. “Hello class, my name is Professor Golding and I will be teaching you all this year. I hope we can get along and that you will learn—”

Professor Golding’s voice trailed off as the door to the classroom opened and a familiar face walked through it.

“Sorry for interrupting. I got a bit lost.”

I groaned inwardly. Great. Priscilla and now this to deal with. 

It was going to be a weird year.