I remembered the strange alpha
slash symbol I noticed on my back.

It was faint but there, was a marking that didn't resemble anything I'd seen before. Could it be connected to this sudden surge in intelligence?
"What if..." I hesitated, reluctant to admit the possibility, "what if that symbol isn't just a random mark?"
A chill ran down my spine as I considered it further.
What if this was a superpower, some hidden force within me that had been activated? By what-or by whom-I couldn't say.
As the lecture continued, I felt a mix of excitement and unease. On one hand, this newfound brilliance felt exhilarating, like a gift.
But on the other, it was unsettling.
It wasn't me.
At least, not the me I had always known.
I needed answers.

"Maybe I'm overthinking it,"
I told myself, though I didn't entirely believe that.
Whatever this was, I had to figure it out. If I truly possessed some kind of power,
there was no telling what else I was capable of-or what it might cost me.

Suddenly,

The door creaked open, and a young girl walked into our classroom.
Instantly, the atmosphere shifted, almost as if a soft breeze had blown through the room.
Every student froze mid-motion, conversations were cut short, and all eyes turned toward the doorway.
There she stood-tall, graceful, and dazzling.
Her face was breathtaking, a perfect blend of elegance and charm that seemed to light up the entire room.
Her skin had the smoothness of polished ivory, her lips a delicate shade of rose, and her eyes-deep, expressive, and framed by long lashes-held a confidence that was both intimidating and magnetic.
Her hair cascaded down her back in waves, shimmering under the dull classroom lights like strands of spun gold.
She walked with a poise and elegance that made it impossible to look away.
Even her outfit-a simple yet well-fitted dress-seemed to enhance her natural beauty, hugging her figure in all the right places without being ostentatious.

The way she moved, the subtle sway of her hips,
the quiet confidence in her steps-it was as if she belonged to a different realm entirely,
one far removed from the mundane world we all inhabited.
She wasn't just pretty; she was mesmerizing, almost unreal like a character stepped out of a romantic fantasy novel.
As she walked further into the classroom, the chatter among students resumed, but it was hushed and scattered, with her name-the name we didn't even know yet-already on everyone's lips.
Whispers buzzed through the room like bees.

"Is she a new transfer student?"
"Where did she come from?"
"Wow, she's stunning!"

But my gaze didn't falter for even a second. My eyes were glued to her, taking in every detail, from the way her lips curved into a slight, mysterious smile to the gentle rhythm of her strides.
She was, without a doubt, the prettiest girl I'd ever seen-not just in this school, but probably in my entire life.
And yet, there was something more about her.
It wasn't just her beauty that drew me in-it was the air of mystery that surrounded her.
She had this aura of sophistication and intrigue, as though she carried secrets that no one else could comprehend.
I leaned back in my seat, pretending to be nonchalant, but inside, my thoughts were racing.
"Who is she?"
I wondered.

"Where has she been all this time?
How is it possible for someone like her to exist?"

As she made her way to an empty seat at the far side of the room,
I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to talk to her,
to make her laugh, to have her say my name with that soft, melodic voice I was sure she had.
"She's out of your league," my inner voice whispered.
But another, bolder voice inside me countered,
"No, she's just a girl like any other. You can talk to her."
Still, the thought of approaching her made my heart race. Would she even give me the time of day?
Or would she brush me off like I was just another face in the crowd?

"Hey,"

My seatmate nudged me, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"You're staring."

"Am I?"

I said, quickly averting my gaze, but it was too late. He smirked knowingly.
"You better make a move before someone else does," he teased.
I forced a laugh,
but the idea of someone else catching her attention first stung more than I cared to admit.

"She's just another student,"

I said, trying to downplay my interest. But deep down, I knew she was anything but.
The lecturer resumed the class, but I couldn't focus.
My mind kept drifting back to her-her radiant smile,
her enchanting eyes, the way she had walked in like she owned the room. I had to find a way to talk to her, to get to know her.

My eyes didn't waver from her, as if her presence alone had cast a spell on me. Every movement she made felt deliberate, like the world slowed down just to accommodate her.
She walked gracefully through the rows of desks,
finally settling into an empty seat near the window. Even as she sat, her posture remained perfect, her aura commanding yet approachable.
I couldn't help but continue stealing glances at her, studying every detail-the way the sunlight caught the soft waves of her hair,
the calm expression on her face as she pulled out her notebook, and the casual way she adjusted her pen between her fingers.
There was something magnetic about her, something that made it impossible to look away.
My mind raced with thoughts.
Should I approach her after class? Would she even want to talk to me?
My imagination spiraled, envisioning an easy conversation turning into something more-maybe a friendship, or even a relationship.
The thought sent a small, nervous thrill through me.
But just as I was building up courage, something smacked the back of my head. A small, crumpled piece of paper fell onto my desk.
I turned sharply to see one of the bullies in the class snickering with his friends, their faces twisted into mocking grins.
I knew it was them. It was always them. Their days seemed to revolve around tormenting others, finding joy in making everyone else's life miserable.
My jaw clenched as irritation bubbled inside me,
but I forced myself to stay calm. They weren't worth the trouble.
Still, it was frustrating.

The interruption had yanked me out of my thoughts, stealing my focus from the girl who had just turned my world upside down.
I glanced at her again, but she was already engrossed in her notebook, completely unaware of the small chaos unfolding around me.

Forget them,

I told myself, tossing the paper aside. Instead, I forced my attention back to the lesson, scribbling notes in an attempt to concentrate.
Minutes ticked by slowly, the lecturer's voice droning on about technicalities and theories.
My eyes occasionally drifted back toward her, but I was careful not to make it obvious.
Despite the bullies' attempts to distract me, I felt a renewed sense of focus-not just on the lecture, but on figuring out how to talk to her without sounding like an idiot.
The bell finally rang,
signaling the end of the class. Everyone began packing their bags and shuffling out of the room,
heading toward their next destination. I lingered for a moment, my eyes following her as she stood and gracefully exited with the crowd.
I sighed inwardly, knowing I'd missed my chance this time.
But there were more classes to attend, and the day was far from over.
We transitioned to the next class, and I made a mental note to keep an eye out for her.
As much as I wanted to focus on the lectures, part of me hoped for another opportunity to cross paths with her, even if it was something as simple as exchanging a smile in the hallway.
The next lecture wasn't much different from the first, and the bullies continued their antics,
occasionally throwing paper balls or muttering under their breath just loud enough to annoy me.
I ignored them as best as I could, pretending they didn't exist. But my mind was elsewhere.

Every now and then, I'd scan the classroom for her, searching for her distinctive silhouette among the rows of students. She wasn't in this class, but her image remained vivid in my mind.
The thought of her lingered, fueling my determination.
I didn't know her name yet, but I knew I'd find a way to talk to her.
There was something about her that drew me in-something that made me feel like meeting her was more than just coincidence.
The rest of the class passed in a blur, my focus split between taking notes and daydreaming about what I'd say if I got the chance to talk to her.
When the lecture ended, I was the first out the door, hoping to catch another glimpse of her before she disappeared into the crowd.
But as the day wore on and the lectures piled up,
I realized something: she wasn't just another pretty face.
She was different, and I was determined to find out why.