I should have listened to the voice in my head that has been bothering me since the day I discovered that Nana had gotten me enrolled in ST. Thomas- the most prestigious school in Upstate Galveston. The school where the kids of rich and important people go to.

And the first thing I do when I get here is get into trouble.

You don't belong here. Look at you, messing up everything. You shouldn't be here. 

The voice in me is such a hateful bitch, but she's right, after all, I did punch someone just now. 

Just a few seconds in and I'm already ruining my Nana's hard work. She is probably turning in her grave right now.

Nana always said I was born to be someone important, and I would make her proud one day. That I would change things for us, and that is why she wanted me to go here. She dedicated all my trust funds to getting me into an Elite school where I don't fit in and currently feel like I can't breathe. 

And they won't stop looking at me like I have killed a cute little animal named Bunny. It was just a tiny blow - okay maybe not so tiny, but if it had landed on Claire, like as planned, she would have been fine. That bitch deserves it after what she did to me. 

And fate just has a way of exposing the fucking ghetto in you. When I walked through those doors, I planned to smile at everyone and ask for the tour guide the principal had assigned to me two weeks ago when I came to file my admission. 

Everything was so perfect until Claire popped out of nowhere. I had begged myself to ignore her, but her annoying ass was just all up in my face and on my end, wounds tend to heal slowly. So she was poking where she hurt me. 

Ignore her.

I kept singing in my head, as I tried to walk past her, but she wouldn't stop. The bitch owes me, and she has the guts to keep showing her face to me? Violence shouldn't have been the outcome of all of this, but she truly, deeply forced my hand. 

"So, this is the hallway, I assume you're already familiar seeing as you hit someone in it," The Tour guide girl-Reese Peyton, says. I don't know whether that's meant to be a compliment or an insult, but I let it slide. 

One person shouldn't have these many problems on their first day of school, but I feel like adding to the list by punching her right across her pretty face. 

This girl had the gall to ask if we met before. How can she forget after treating me like pure garbage?

Why do I feel like I'm going to punch every human being in this place? 

I should just go back outside and never come here again. The voice in my head is right, I don't belong here, not with all of these horrible people hiding under their perfect little masks of green uniforms and plastic smiles. 

"If you get in, you're going to be assigned a locker and a code, make sure you memorize it, or if you can't, it's better to write it down," Reese says. Something about that makes me feel so little. Does she think I'm dumb?

"I'm already in bro, I'm here now..." My voice is calm, too calm even for me, but my fists are twitching, burning, and begging me to swing them to her. 

"Oh," Her face contorts a little, but she soon schools her expression. "Well, good for you."

"Thanks," I deadpan.

We walk down the hallway in silence. People say your tour guide is most likely your first friend, but I can already see that this girl and I can't be friends. 

Not after humiliating me and pretending to have forgotten about it. If she were wise, an apology would have been the perfect greeting. 

I watch Reese socialize with the students. Guys trying so hard to be noticed and act cool at the same time while girls want even a tiny nod of acknowledgment from her, it's nauseating to watch. I figure she is a big deal around here. I mean, all of them are, but she should be doing something super right for everyone to want to be on her good side. 

"You're Ms. Popular, I see," I say, eyeing her from the corner of my eye. 

She looks different. Her black, curly hair is wrapped up into a bun over her head that looks like a huge bird's nest, so I can see her face in broad daylight. I still remember how attracted I was to her eyes before she switched and accused me of wanting to burn down her mansion because I was smoking a joint instead of their fancy hookah thing. 

Her skin is dark and smooth, like she bathes in honey and conditions with milk. Her body is draped in a white shirt that's tucked into a green skimpy skirt and her green jacket is unbuttoned, giving me the view of her green tie resting easily over her breasts.

"Running for School Council President in a few weeks," Reese says, pulling my attention from her boobs as we branch into the classroom blocks. "This is where we have classes, they have labels on the doors so it's impossible to get lost."

"Cool." 

Silence again.

"So, where did you go to school? And why transfer midterm?" Reese finally asks as we leave the class area and waltz into the library. I don't need a dictionary to know even when it looks nothing like a library -more of a fancy coffee place, but with books instead of coffee. The place is clean with white tiles on the floors and light blue on the walls, walking in makes me feel like I'm that dirty shirt being worn when one has done laundry.

"Uh, Royston High," I say, distracted. 

"Mm, where's that? I haven't heard of it before," Reese asked, waving at the woman with glasses at the front desk. 

I want to roll my eyes so hard. Of course, she has never heard of the one government high school where low and middle-class kids go. They don't even show it on TV.

"Yeah, it's uh, it's not fancy and all," I say, looking at my shoes to hide the embarrassment shading my cheeks. I notice the platform black shoes and the long white socks reaching up her mid-thigh.

Reese bobs her head, some curls dangling loose at the side of her face. "We are going to the game room next, then the chapel." She taps on her iPad. "I need to get to class soon."

I nod. I'm not sure what she wants me to do with that information, but I guess I should be glad. Getting rid of her means I will finally be able to not want to punch her. 

We keep walking, at a quicker pace now. Reese shows me around the game room, and there are all types of computerized games and board games --like 3D chess. We don't stay long because apparently, Ms. Popular can't miss a single class. 

When she is not looking, I take a quick snap of the game room to show to Sawyer and Patrick later. I know they will have all sorts of questions about my new school.

"Chapel," she says, pointing. I notice the purple on her perfectly done nails. She then glances at her screen again. "The other side is where all the outdoor games happen."

Excitement lights up in me, as I ask, "You guys have Rugby?" 

Her face twists. "No. But there's soccer and other things you might want to check out later, should we proceed?" 

I nod.

The last place we stop at is the Classroom with D2 as a label. Reese gestures for me to go in. 

"Okay, I think you're up to speed with the entire school except this room," she says, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

"And what is this room?" 

"Detention 2.0," Reese mutters with a smug face. 

"Why am I here?"

She scoffs. "Dude, you punched someone."

"And?" I shrug. 

"You have to be punished for it." Reese's dark eyes dance around like it's something obvious. 

I can feel rage bubbling up my chest. "So, who says you're the one to put me in detention?" 

I take a step towards her. 

"Relax, you can't punch everyone," Reese says, then creases her perfectly brushed eyebrows. "Can you?"

Is she trying to piss me off deliberately? Because it's working. I can just take her, no one is looking. 

"I don't want any trouble, Peyton," I say, voice piping down. 

"No, you are trouble and that's why the school has people like me to make sure you steer clear of it," Reese says and heads to the door, then stops to look over her shoulder. "Oh, and don't try to leave, the principal will be here soon."

That's it, she is gone with her sassy ass swaying left and right.

I'm left wondering how exactly did I go from the new kid to the bad guy in Detention 2.0