Chapter 17 : First day, First kiss, and the First enemy
Melissa Spears had just returned from abroad, and the moment she stepped into Imperial High, she felt the air change.
The campus was grand, lively — and most importantly, it was the same school where her childhood crush studied.
Andrea Mist.
To her, Andrea wasn't just a boy — he was the boy.
The one who had once smiled at her at a family banquet, the one she had written about in her diary for years.
And now, fate — or perhaps her father's influence — had placed her right in the same school as him.
Finally, she thought, this time, I won't let him ignore me.
Settling into her new environment didn't take long.
She was confident, composed, and, most importantly, ranked eighth in the special class entrance list.
That automatically placed her in Special Class 1A, the class reserved for the top ten of the entire batch — the elite among elites.
Within her first few hours, Melissa had already formed a small group around her.
Her so-called friends were:
Gloria Smith — ranked fourth, calm and mature.
Jeff Breeze — ranked second, quiet and scholarly.
Amber Clinton — ranked ninth, bubbly and loyal.
To others, it looked like a promising group of high achievers.
But deep down, Melissa didn't like any of them.
They were too plain, too ordinary.
Especially Jeff — he looked like the type who would rather date his textbooks than a girl.
Still, Melissa smiled and played along.
It doesn't hurt to have a few lackeys, she thought, twirling a strand of her hair.
Even pawns can be useful later.
.
.
.
.
.
The classroom door opened and their homeroom teacher stepped in, her voice crisp and confident.
"Good morning, everyone.
I'm Miss Irena, your class advisor.
Let's start with introductions."
One by one, the students stood and introduced themselves — names, ranks, brief dreams.
Melissa gave her most charming smile when it was her turn, making sure her tone carried the right mix of grace and confidence.
After introductions, Miss Irena turned toward Melissa.
"Miss Spears, since you're new, could you help me with something? Go to the teachers' office and bring back the set of test papers marked for Class 1A."
"Of course, ma'am," Melissa said sweetly.
But the moment she stepped into the grand hallway of Imperial High, she realized she was lost.
The corridors twisted and turned, the signs confusing, and the marble floors stretched endlessly beneath the golden sunlight pouring through the windows.
This place is a maze, she thought with an exasperated sigh, clutching the stack of papers she'd just collected.
On her way back, however, she froze.
Her breath caught.
At the far end of the hallway — near the quiet staircase that led to the old wing — she saw a scene that shattered her heart.
A boy and a girl.
The boy's hand pressed lightly against the wall, his lips gently covering the girl's.
Even from afar, she could never mistake that silhouette — that posture — that aura, she's always kept a watch on him.
Andrea Mist.
Her Andrea.
Melissa's heart stopped.
The papers in her hand almost slipped to the floor.
For years she had dreamed of standing beside him, of hearing him call her name.
And yet, here he was… kissing another girl.
Who is she? her mind screamed.
Who dares—?
What Melissa didn't know was that she wasn't the only one who had witnessed the moment.
Just around the corner, not far from the staircase, Clara stepped out of the girls' restroom.
Her eyes followed the same direction — and she, too, saw it: Andrea's lips pressed softly against Violet's.
Anger burned through her.
Her fingernails dug into her palm.
But just as quickly, the fury in her eyes shifted to calculation.
She had also seen Melissa, standing frozen in the hallway, staring at them with heartbreak written all over her face.
A slow, knowing smile curved Clara's lips.
How convenient.
If Andrea and Violet were the fire, then Melissa Spears was the perfect spark to fan it into chaos.
It's time to use my jealous pawn, Clara thought, walking straight towards Melissa.
________________________________________
"Wife ... It's been so long.
Don't you miss me".
A teasing pause
"And now you even want to destroy what'll give us kids? Tsk, tsk... bad wifey."
The moment Violet heard what he said, her anger flared.
She struggled harder in his arms.
"Let go of me, you crazy bastard!"
Andrea chuckled softly, though his eyes showed a trace of guilt.
"Wife, you're making me sad with the way you're behaving.
Fine, fine—I'm letting go. See?"
The second he released her wrists, Violet's fist shot forward and landed squarely in his stomach.
"Oof—!" Andrea doubled over, clutching his abdomen with a grimace.
"Don't just go around kissing other people whenever you like!" she snapped.
"I'm not going around kissing other women," he said between gritted teeth.
"I kissed my wife.
And besides—" his lips curved into a teasing smile "—you're not even a woman yet, you're still a girl."
"That's exactly why you shouldn't be kissing me!"
"Fine, fine.
I'm sorry."
He straightened, still rubbing his stomach.
"I won't kiss your lips again—at least not until you're ready."
Before she could retort, Andrea suddenly pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her.
"What are you doing?" Violet stammered, her cheeks burning red.
"Just… let me hold you for a while," he whispered against her hair.
"I've missed you so much."
The hallway fell quiet except for the sound of their breathing.
Violet could feel his heartbeat against her ear—steady, warm, and far too close.
Just as she began to relax, Andrea leaned in and—chomp!—took a playful bite on her neck.
Then he jumped back, grinning mischievously.
Inside Violet's mind, Vira gasped dramatically.
Host, did this son of a bitch just give you a hickey?!
"You—!" Violet's voice trembled with fury as she pointed a finger at him.
"You bastard, You're dead!"
But Andrea was already halfway down the hall, laughing as he ran.
"I promised not to kiss your lips!" he called over his shoulder.
"I never said anything about kissing anywhere else!"
Vira made a fake-serious news-reporter voice.
Breaking news: Violet De'ora, age 4—first kiss.
Violet De'ora, age 12—first hickey!
"Vira," Violet said through gritted teeth, "believe it or not, I can kill you."
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Melissa sat at her desk, her textbook open but unread.
The teacher's voice was nothing more than background noise.
Her mind kept replaying what had happened in the restroom earlier — what Julia Crescent had told her.
Back at the girl restroom
Clara — or Julia, as everyone at school knew her — had appeared just after the incident, pulling Melissa into the restroom before anyone could see them together.
"Melissa, are you okay?" Clara's voice was soft, almost too gentle.
Melissa's fists were clenched tightly at her sides.
"How dare she," she spat, pointing toward the direction of the staircase.
"How dare that girl kiss my Andrea, Julia!"
Clara widened her eyes in feigned shock. "Oh my God… isn't that Violet De'ora? Are she and Andrea already together? At such a young age?"
"Shut up!" Melissa snapped, her voice trembling with anger.
"They're not together.
She's the one throwing herself at my Andrea!"
Clara's lips curved into a knowing smile.
"So you're just going to let her go like that? You're not doing anything about it?"
"Do you think I'm that kind of girl?" Melissa hissed.
"If I was that easy to push around, I wouldn't be here right now. I'll make her pay."
"Do you want me to help you?" Clara asked sweetly.
Melissa narrowed her eyes.
"Why are you getting involved? I don't trust you, Julia."
Clara shrugged innocently.
"No reason.
I just can't stand to see my best friend's man getting stolen.
So, do you want my help or not?"
Melissa stayed silent for a moment, thinking. Finally, she exhaled.
"Fine," she muttered.
"Although I don't trust you a hundred percent… fine.
What do I need to do?"
And so, the two made their plan.
.
.
.
Back in the classroom.
Melissa tapped her pen against her notebook, her heart pounding with unease.
The plan Clara gave her would definitely make Violet suffer — but it would also involve Andrea.
She bit her lip.
She didn't want him to hate her.
But for the bigger picture — for Andrea to be hers — she had to take the risk.
Still, she wasn't foolish enough to trust Clara completely.
No.
She would try to deal with Violet herself first.
If that failed, then she'd go through with Julia's plan.
Yes.
That was what she would do.
Suddenly, the classroom door swung open.
The room quieted immediately.
And there, standing in the doorway, was Violet De'ora.
Melissa's grip on her pen tightened.
Violet had just walked right into the lion's den.
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The moment Violet stepped into the classroom, the teacher turned toward her with a raised brow.
"And who might you be?"
"Good morning, ma'am.
My name is Violet De'ora," Violet said politely.
The teacher's eyes brightened in recognition.
"Ah, the top scorer of the Imperial High provincial exam.
Still, lateness won't be allowed here.
Why are you late?"
"Sorry, ma'am.
Something came up at home.
It won't happen again."
Before the teacher could respond, a sharp, sarcastic voice echoed from the middle of the classroom.
"Something came up, or were you busy interacting with other boys?"
The whole class went silent.
Every head turned toward the speaker — Melissa Spears.
Even Violet blinked, caught off guard.
"Sorry," she asked evenly, "do I know you?"
Melissa smirked.
"Yes, you do.
My name is Melissa Spears, don't you remember."
"Ah, Melissa Spears," Violet replied coolly, remembering the little rude girl in that ridiculous pink outfit,who behaves like a rude barbie at the gala.
"I thought you were still abroad.
Still as spoiled as ever, I see."
Melissa's face flushed crimson.
Her hands clenched into fists, and she opened her mouth to retort—
"Enough!" the teacher snapped.
"Violet, since today's your first day, I'll overlook your lateness.
But next time, you'll stand outside for the entire class.
And you, Melissa — when I speak, you don't.
I won't tolerate interruptions from either of you.
Do you both understand?"
"Yes, ma'am," they said together.
The teacher nodded curtly.
"Good.
Violet, find a place to sit."
Before Violet could move, two cheerful voices called out in unison.
"Sister Violet!, Violet !,Over here!"
The voices came from Emery Avril and Victoria Crescent, waving excitedly.
Violet smiled faintly and walked toward them, taking the empty seat beside Emery.
Victoria sat behind them with Gloria Smith, already grinning.
"I kept this seat for you," Emery said proudly, leaning into Violet's shoulder and snuggling up to her like a little puppy.
"Emery," Victoria said, smacking his arm lightly.
"Let go of Violet, you're suffocating her!"
"You're just jealous I can hug Violet and you can't," Emery teased.
"Fine, I'm jealous! Now switch seats with me!"
"Nope."
"You little—!"
"Mr. Emery, Miss Victoria," the teacher's voice rang out sharply.
"Could you both please keep quiet and listen?"
"Sorry, ma'am," they chorused quickly.
Victoria sank back into her chair, while Emery pouted adorably.
Violet couldn't help but let out a small laugh, the tension of the morning finally easing.
Inside her, Vira sighed dramatically.
"And now you're back with the clowns, host. Truly touching."
"Be quiet," Violet muttered under her breath, a small smile tugging at her lips.
For the first time that day, she could finally breathe.