I stood still for a second, eyeing both directions down the dim corridor. Then I noticed something—figures at the far end to the right. I had to squint. Three people stood near the wall. A guy slouched coolly against the wall like he thought he was starring in some teen drama, casually talking to two girls—one with a ponytail, the other with shoulder-length curls.

I wasn't able to make out any other features, as the corridor was still in dim light and they were too far away to see them clearly, especially the guy. He was somehow cloaked in shadows, like a character that hadn't yet loaded into a video game.

I made the decision to walk towards them instead of taking the stairs like I'd originally planned. Curiosity usually killed the cat, as the saying goes, but I was way too interested in what was going on up there, especially in the middle of class. The lights in the corridor jumped on, motion sensors activated. Just as I reached the group of three, the girl with the ponytail suddenly burst into tears and ran past me, sobbing, hands buried into her hands. Her friend desperately shouted her name and took off after her.

I watched them for about a second before something in me clicked, turning back toward the jerk who'd clearly made her cry. Great... First day at my new school, and I'd already caught one of these "charming" boys in the act of emotionally crushing a poor girl. What a start!
I stormed right up to him, practically waving my arms around. I wasn't going to just walk away.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Making her cry like that? Typically men— you all act like we're disposable or something!" I snapped, hands flying around like I was directing traffic in a hurricane.

But I had to swallow hard when I actually got a good look at him.

He was the poster boy for trouble. Effortless, blond messy hair that probably took twenty minutes and three products to "not care about." Blue eyes. A perfectly sculpted face, like something off a cologne ad. And that body? Way too impressive to be fair. But I wasn't about to fall for any of that. There was no way something that pretty came with a decent personality. Especially not when he'd just left a girl in tears.

He didn't flinch. Didn't even blink. Just leaned against the wall, arms crossed, like this was the most boring part of his day. Honestly, he looked like a model on his lunch break. Cool as a fridge. Maybe even a walk-in freezer.

"Hmm?", he grunted, tilting his head like I was a mildly interesting documentary. Then he frowned—pityingly. Ugh.

"She confessed," he said in a deep voice, with maddeningly calmness. "I said I didn't feel the same. That's it."

"Oh, and you couldn't have let her down a little more gently?" I shot back, arms crossed now too. Great, we were mirroring. Disgusting.

He finally pushed off the wall slightly, like I'd forced him to do an ounce of effort. "I literally said I didn't want to be in a relationship. What was I supposed to do? Pretend I'm into her just so she doesn't feel bad? That's messed up."
He paused, then added while I was too stunned to counter, "Or maybe I should've fake-dated her. Then I'd be collecting girlfriends like Pokémon. But, that's not really my thing. Unless you think that would've been better?"

I blinked. He had a point. A terribly reasonable, logic-infested point. Ew.
He looked at me with genuine curiosity, like he expected an actual answer.
I opened my mouth — then closed it again, just to open it again. I probably looked like a fish on land while I was fishing for an answer. Crap.
"Look, I'm not gonna date someone just because they like me," he went on, shrugging. "That's not romance. That's guilt-tripping with extra steps."
Okay... who gave this walking men's clothing ad permission to make sense? He kind of had a point. Why did I confront him like that, just jumping to conclusions?! Sometimes my temper really got the better of me... I screamed internally.

"Yeah, you're right," I muttered slowly, defeated. My sass reserves were critically low. First day at a new school and I'd already been verbally suplexed by Mr. Too-Perfect. Fantastic.

I narrowed my eyes and lowered my gaze, feeling about two inches tall.

"You see..." he started, clearly ready to launch into some philosophical nugget about honesty or heartbreak or who even knows. And I didn't want to stick around to hear it. I had already embarrassed myself enough.

"Whatever. I need to get to my classroom," I mumbled, refusing to give that smug face another second of my attention while already spinning on my heel like a grumpy ballerina.
I took one step, then paused and glanced over my shoulder. "Also, shouldn't you be in class? Or do heartbreakers get an -off-lessons-pass?"
He just shrugged, lazy and smug like he had tenure in being insufferable. So obnoxious!
"Well," I added, pointing at him like I was casting a mild curse, "you better start letting girls down a little softer, Mr Ketchum." I narrowed my eyes. "Because if I catch you making another girl cry, I swear I'll come back and haunt your love life like a vengeful Cupid."

He snorted. I could see he was holding back a full-blown grin.

"What's so funny?" I asked, already regretting staying any longer than really needed.

"Vengeful Cupid?" he echoed. "That's... new."

"Oh, I've got more where that came from," I jabbed my thumb toward the stairs. "Hope to see you not around, Heartthrob MC-Emotion-Destroyer.

He choked on a laugh. Actual, unfiltered laughter. That was solid.

I turned on my heel (again), strutted toward the glass door that separated the floors from the stairs like a woman on a mission. Confident, dramatic, filled with pride of having had the last word.

Then I walked smack into it.

Full. Face. Impact.

There was an audible thud, followed by a startled gasp — from me — and then a second snort from the hallway behind me. Oh god.

I staggered back a step, clutching my nose, trying to pretend I totally meant to body-check the door like that. Maybe to test the glass integrity. For science. It definitely passed the test.

"Careful there, Wildcard.", came the deep voice, now tinged with unmistakable amusement. "Wouldn't want you headbutting your way through the curriculum."

I made a face and turned just slightly looking in his direction, pretending I hadn't just had a near-death experience with a see-through wall.
"Wildcard?", I repeated slowly.
He gave me a crooked half-smile and shrugged. "Yeah. You show up out of nowhere, pick a fight, and walk straight into a door. You're clearly here to keep things entertaining."
I scoffed and glared at him. "Let this be an example of what awaits you next time I see you make a girl cry. Because I might headbutt you instead of a door."
"See? Total wildcard," he said, turning to saunter away like some smug male lead in his own show.

I gave him one last tight-lipped stare, spun around (carefully this time), and marched up the stairs like the glass door and I hadn't just had a moment. Which we absolutely had, still wondering how I just didn't see the door in time when I made my grand escape.

I stopped in front of the room where my new class was busy studying. First, I glanced at my notes, then at the clock mounted to the wall. Before I could fully register that it was time for recess, the school bell rang—and the classroom doors burst open.

I barely managed to step aside and press myself against the wall, before I could have an additional run in with another door, as a stampede of stomping feet and loud laughter poured into the hallway. I waited patiently until the chaos slowly died down.

My one and only female classmate was the last student to leave the room. She looked a little rattled but spotted me right away.

"Oh, hi!" She greeted me warmly.

I smiled. She was pretty cute—maybe 160 centimetres tall, with brown hair in a bob that brushed her jaw.
"You must be the new student!" she added brightly.

"Yep, guilty as charged," I said with a playful eye-roll. "Mirona Sawyer—but feel free to call me Miri. And you must be Leana, right?" I held out my hand.

She blinked in surprise, staring at me with a puzzled expression before hesitantly taking it.

"How do you know that?" she asked as we shook hands, blinking at me like I'd just read her diary out loud.

I gave her a sly grin. "I'm a mind reader. Also, part-time psychic. Weekdays only though."

She looked genuinely impressed for a split second before I laughed and waved the papers the secretary had given me. "Kidding. You're literally the only other girl on the class list."

"Ohhh," she said, finally connecting the dots.

Bless her heart—she appeared not to be the sharpest crayon in the box, but definitely the brightest in colour.
"Come, let's head to the schoolyard. I am literally starving!" And with that I made to follow her enthusiastic steps down to the devils den.

Outside in the courtyard, a mass of students went about their lunch, but we found a good spot for ourselves on the grass. To my surprise, Leana pulled out a picnic blanket like a total pro. Okay, maybe she was smarter than I thought. She even shared her lunch with me—sweet as sugar, seriously.

"So," I asked, flopping back on my elbows like I was sunbathing in the middle of a war zone, "what's it like being trapped in a school full of hormone-fuelled chaos goblins?"

"Oh, it's actually not so bad," Leana said with a positive note. "Some of them can be total creeps, sure, but most are really nice." She leaned in like we were trading state secrets. "And there are some really cute guys here. The cutest one—the one literally every girl loses her mind over—is Raven Payne. He's super cool, all the guys respect him, and he's got this whole 'mysterious lone wolf' thing going on. But no one's ever dated him. His standards are, like, sky-high."

She sighed dreamily while her gaze drifted off, like she'd just seen a shirtless angel float by.

"Ah, yeah," I muttered. I didn't have the heart to tell her the 'mysterious lone wolf' might actually be the emotionally stunted stray I most likely had already ran into. Lucky me.

Leana spent the rest of the break giving me a rundown on electives. The school offered a surprisingly wide range of extracurriculars—from fencing to the school newspaper, which Leana was part of. I decided I'd figure out which ones to take once I was home. It must've been somewhere with the documents the secretary had given me.

When the bell rang again, we joined the rest of the students marching back to class.

The rest of the day flew by. I met a bunch of teachers: our homeroom and math teacher, Mr. Solomae; our English teacher, Mrs. Silvester; and our biology teacher, Mr. Malush. I didn't have any more classes today, and I'd meet the rest of the staff tomorrow.

To my utter shock—and mild suspicion—the boys in my class turned out to be surprisingly well-behaved. Like, sitting-still-and-not-throwing-desks level behaved. Who knew?

And to my great personal joy (and the preservation of my last nerve), I didn't run into that smirking "Heartbreaker McTooCool" from earlier again. Small mercies.

All in all? No blood, no tears, minimal embarrassment. I was calling day one a success. Gold star for me.