"You really showed up at the perfect time," Jayna muttered as she tugged Calista out of the classroom and onto the landing outside. "But can you please do something about that foghorn of a voice? Does the entire school have to hear you every time you open your mouth?"
"Fine, I'll fix it," Calista snapped, rolling her eyes. "But you can stop trying to fool me. 'Going back to get your keys'? Yeah right. Isn't Mrs Rose at home? Wait... what did you eat, anyway? It smelled amazing."
Jayna twisted her lips.
Trust Calista to have a bloodhound's nose.
"You really are a dog, you know that?" she said. "I brought you chocolate drops, by the way. I only went home to… check on something."
"Snacks won't buy me off," Calista huffed, though her eyes flickered with interest all the same. "Don't think you can bribe me and hide things."
"Ugh."
Jayna glanced around to make sure no one was near them, then leaned in close, lowering her voice to a whisper by Calista's ear.
"I think Lydia Westbrook and her crew are targeting Ginevra on purpose."
"Why do you think that?" Calista asked.
Jayna frowned.
She didn't have proof. Nothing she could point at and say here, look. Just flashes of looks, offhand comments, the way things lined up wrong in her gut.
She couldn't exactly tell Calista, my horoscope and my instincts hate her.
"What's Lydia's family like?" Jayna asked instead, trying to sound casual.
Calista gave her a puzzled look.
"You seriously don't know?"
"Why would I?" Jayna sniffed. "I don't pay attention to her."
"Her family's pretty powerful," Calista said, gripping the railing with both hands as she spoke. "Apparently her uncle's some big-shot official. Their background's solid. And Zoe Taylor, who's always glued to her side? Her family's loaded too."
She paused, then added,
"And Lydia's got the full package: top grades, good looks, knows how to talk. She's really popular in school."
Jayna raised one eyebrow.
"She 'knows how to talk'? Funny, all I ever hear is that passive-aggressive tone of hers."
Calista shot her a sideways look.
"She talks that way to you because she clearly doesn't want to be friends with you," she muttered. "But in front of the teachers she's… very polished."
"I don't remember ever offending her," Jayna said. "Anyway, forget me for a second. I'm telling you, she's going after Ginevra on purpose. She's got… something in mind."
She glanced back toward the classroom.
Ginevra was seated at the back, as always, quietly reading.
The memory of a few minutes ago flashed across Jayna's mind—the gingerbread, the warmth of skin, the way she'd leaned in and bitten from her mouth.
Her cheeks flared hot.
Calista watched her friend silently for a second, baffled yet again by how seriously Jayna took anything that involved Ginevra.
"Anyway," Calista said, exhaling, "just look after yourself, okay? Try not to get tangled up with Lydia and her crowd. Especially Zoe. They're not the type you want to mess with."
It's not like I want to be tangled up with them, Jayna thought sourly.
Aloud, she only muttered, "Yeah, yeah," and clapped Calista on the shoulder as a warning.
"Teacher's coming. Back to your seat."
Ms. Harper walked into the classroom with a smile so bright it almost looked out of place on a Monday morning. Her whole expression buzzed with barely contained excitement.
"Everyone," she announced, "the school received some wonderful news today."
Conversations died mid-sentence. Pens stopped tapping.
"There are two students in our class," she continued, "who have both received conditional early admission offers from Northbridge University's top honours track. Using last year's results from the Aurora MIT Mathematics Tournament and their academic performance over the past year as the benchmark, the university has pre-selected them for admission."
She paused, letting the suspense hang for half a heartbeat.
"They are: Ginevra Volkova and Lydia Westbrook."
The words had barely left her mouth when the classroom erupted.
Gasps, whispers, someone's low whistle. Chairs creaked as everyone turned to stare at the two girls, admiration and envy mixing together in their gazes.
Sitting beside Ginevra, Jayna genuinely hadn't expected this.
For a second she went blank.
Then joy surged up so fast it left her light-headed.
She twisted toward Ginevra, hands coming together automatically as she started clapping before anyone else.
"Congratulations," she whispered, her voice earnest.
Under the combined applause of Ms. Harper and Jayna, the rest of the class quickly joined in, the sound swelling and filling the room.
Ginevra shifted, a hint of discomfort in the line of her shoulders. She wasn't used to being in the centre of attention like this.
She lowered her gaze, then turned her head slightly toward Jayna.
Jayna met her eyes and gave her a warm, unguarded smile.
She was truly happy for her.
Even if she didn't understand this person fully. Even if sometimes, Ginevra said things that baffled her.
On the other side of the room, Lydia Westbrook stood up amidst the applause, cheeks flushed the exact right shade of modest pink.
She gave a small, shy smile, her voice soft and sweet.
"Thank you, everyone," she said. "I'll keep working hard, and I promise I won't disappoint our teachers or any of you."
Ms. Harper listened, relief and pride written plainly across her face. Students like this made her job easier.
"I'm sure Ginevra feels the same way," she added, glancing toward the back row. "I hope both of you will continue to set a good example for the class—be leaders in everything you do. Right now, you are the pride of the whole school."
Lydia nodded demurely.
"Honestly, I still think I should be learning from Ginevra," she said. "She's the real model student here."
She smiled and turned her head to look at Ginevra, who still hadn't stood up or said a word.
The class collectively held its breath.
Surely she'd say something now.
But Ginevra only lifted her eyes briefly, meeting Lydia's gaze for a moment.
Her expression didn't change.
Then she looked away again.
Silence settled, a bit too heavy this time.
The air grew awkward.
Jayna winced inwardly.
Great, she thought. Now everyone's going to think she's aloof and impossible to approach again.
Lydia knew Ginevra wasn't good with this kind of thing. Yet she still kept pushing her into the spotlight like that.
Jayna's irritation flared.
She shot her hand up.
"Ms. Harper," she said, putting on a half-serious, half-joking tone, "since you didn't bring your textbook today… does that mean we get a free study period?"
A ripple of laughter moved through the room.
Ms. Harper gave her a look, but she was in too good a mood to fuss.
"Ahem," she said, covering a smile. "No, actually, there's something else I need to tell you."
Her expression shifted back to its official-teacher mode.
"The district education board is coming to conduct inspections," she said. "So I'm afraid we need everyone's help. Starting this period, the whole school will be doing a thorough cleaning. Please follow the class representative's instructions, split into groups of three, and finish your tasks properly."
As soon as she finished, the room filled with groans.
No one wanted a campus-wide deep clean.
Jayna alone didn't complain.
Cleaning instead of lessons? That sounded like a pretty good deal to her.
She was almost cheerful about it.
The class rep, Roy William, was a tall, fairly good-looking guy with a calm, easygoing reputation.
As soon as Ms. Harper left, students began swarming his desk, politely begging for the easiest chores—wiping desks, sweeping just their own row, wiping a window or two, nothing too extreme.
"Jayna, who's in your group?" Roy called out once he'd sorted most of the front rows. A few leftovers—stragglers who hadn't bothered to form groups in advance—still waited.
Jayna glanced at Ginevra, sitting in her usual spot, and pointed.
"Her," she said.
Then she bent down and grabbed Calista, who was crouched beside a desk grumbling at the floor, dragging her upright by the elbow.
"And her."
She bared two small tiger teeth in a grin.
"The three of us."
"Got it."
Roy scribbled their names down and went up to the podium.
"Okay," he announced, "we've got everyone assigned. Now I'll tell you which areas each group is responsible for. Let's try to finish as soon as we can."
"Look, I know you like Roy," Jayna murmured to Calista as they listened, "but don't expect a romantic breakthrough just because you're cleaning together, okay?"
"I was hoping to be in his group," Calista complained, sulking. "But nooo, you had to drag me away."
Jayna snorted.
"If you went off, who would group with me and Ginevra? Just the two of us?"
"There are other people," Calista whispered back, eyes still tracking Roy with obvious longing.
Jayna glanced at her and shook her head.
Pathetic, she thought affectionately.
Then she looked up at Roy, honestly curious.
If he really turned out to be decent, maybe she could help Calista out.
That… turned out to be wishful thinking.
By the time Jayna was scrubbing the corridor handrails for what felt like the hundredth time, cloth twisting hard under her fingers, she was cursing under her breath.
"Roy William and that whole crowd are a bunch of jerks," she said fiercely.
"Jayna, stop swearing," Calista groaned, rubbing her temple. "Does yelling change anything?"
She was just as angry, but because the target was the class rep, she felt even more helpless.
Jayna glared at her, then slammed the wet rag onto the rail so hard it splashed.
She didn't want to do this anymore.
The whole mess had gone like this—
At first, Roy had been fairly reasonable, assigning each group the expected things: wiping desks, mopping the classroom floor, washing windows. Annoying, but manageable.
Then the school administration added a last-minute condition:
Since their class was closest to the main corridor, they were expected to "set an example" by cleaning every staircase in the south building. All six floors.
Not just sweeping.
Scrubbing the handrails, too.
And Roy had assigned that entire job… to just one group.
Theirs.
"Roy, don't you think that's unfair?" Jayna had asked loudly, right there in the classroom. "That much work for just three people?"
Roy had looked pained.
He'd glanced toward Lydia, who was standing nearby… and clearly making faces at him.
He hesitated for several seconds, then said,
"Everyone else is already assigned. I can't rearrange everything now, and the extra cleaning was added by the principal. My hands are tied."
He added quickly, "Don't worry, the other classes will also be cleaning the stairwells. And if we finish our area early, my group will come help you, okay?"
"Really?" Jayna had asked, eyebrow arching.
She'd seen Lydia's little signal.
And right then, her annoyance had turned into something hotter.
Lydia had walked over.
She took one look at Jayna's bristling posture, then turned toward Ginevra as if Jayna weren't even there.
"Ginevra," she said, her tone gently concerned, "why don't I join your group instead?"
Her eyes flicked to Jayna for a fraction of a second.
"I mean, Jaynara doesn't seem very enthusiastic about cleaning," she continued. "If you three can't finish the stairs, you'll get in trouble. I really wouldn't mind doing the stairwell with you."
She offered a soft, understanding smile, as if she were volunteering for some noble sacrifice.
"You—"
Jayna's temper snapped.
She rolled up her sleeves, ready to launch into a full-scale verbal attack—
But before she could get a word out, Ginevra's hand closed firmly around her wrist and yanked her backward.
And in the very next instant, a streak of dark blue cut through the air.
Ink.
Cold, wet droplets splashed onto Ginevra's uniform and cheek, spattering across the white fabric and pale skin.
Jayna froze.
Then she lunged forward and spun Ginevra fully around to face her, her heart slamming against her ribs.
A blot of ink slid slowly down Ginevra's jawline toward her collar.
Jayna grabbed a handful of tissues in a panic and began dabbing at the stains, hands clumsy with urgency.
No matter how she wiped, the marks only smudged.
Behind them, Zoe Tan's voice drifted over, bright and false.
"Oops, sorry," she said, sounding anything but. "I didn't think that would happen. I was just testing a new pen and it must have flicked…"
"Shut up."
Jayna's voice cracked through the corridor like a whip.
She didn't care about "classmates" or "politeness" or any of that rubbish.
All she could think was: Is she okay?
She pressed the tissue even more carefully to Ginevra's face, wiping away the dark streak, terrified of hurting her, equally terrified of missing a spot.
A person with Ginevra's level of cleanliness—someone who rinsed an umbrella for twenty minutes—
Having ink on her face must feel awful.
"It won't come completely off," Jayna muttered, her voice shaking. "When we're done here I'll try with water—maybe a cotton pad—"
Her fingers trembled as she worked.
Ginevra lifted her eyes.
From this distance she could see every tiny detail:
The way tears clung, unshed, to the edges of Jayna's lashes.
The tight line of her mouth.
The way her entire expression looked on the verge of crumpling.
"As if that cheap uniform matters so much," Zoe scoffed behind them, gathering up her pen. "It's not like it's expensive. No need to fuss like that."
Her tone was pure disdain.
Fire flared in Jayna's chest.
Her fists curled so hard her nails bit into her palms.
She wanted to turn around and—
"I'm fine," Ginevra said quietly.
Her fingers tightened around Jayna's fist, stopping it mid-air.
Her voice was so steady it made something inside Jayna twist painfully.
That calm, that composure, after taking a hit meant for her—
It only made the ache sharper, spreading through her chest like a slow bruise.