┈┈┈┈․° ☣ °․┈┈┈┈
That morning, SMA Garuda (Garuda Senior High School) looked more magnificent than ever in Putriyana Theresia's eyes. The tall iron gate with golden carvings felt like a barrier between her world of poverty and the future she dreamed of.
Putri, a petite 16-year-old girl, adjusted her gray skirt—faded from being handed down by a neighbor—but still clean and fresh-smelling.
"Putri, remember, dear—you must study hard there. Don't pay attention to those who have everything. All we have is our brains to compete," her mother's voice echoed in her mind from that morning. Putri gave a faint smile, steeling her resolve as she hugged her worn-out backpack.
As a full scholarship recipient due to her brilliance, Putri knew she would be an easy target for the school's elite students. But she didn't care. Her only goal was to graduate with top marks and lift her mother's standing.
Her feet glided down the polished hallway until she reached the cafeteria-cum-lounge area. It was bustling with activity. Putri's attention drifted to a notice board on the wall. Too focused on studying the school map, she didn't notice someone rushing toward her from the opposite direction, carrying a glass of iced americano.
CRASH!
"Ouch!" Putri jolted as her body was jostled.
The thick, dark liquid spilled all over the crisp white shirt of the boy in front of her. The noisy cafeteria fell silent in an instant. Every eye turned to them.
Putri looked up with a pale, anxious face. Standing before her was a tall young man with an almost perfect face—strong jawline, sharp yet gentle eyes, and a powerful aura of leadership.
Alacrix Topan Adibrata. The Student Council President, and son of SMA Garuda's founder.
"I-I'm so sorry... I really am sorry! I didn't mean to," stammered Putri, her hands trembling as she fumbled in her pockets for a tissue that she'd left at home.
Alacrix looked down at his expensive shirt, now completely stained. Instead of flying into a rage as everyone expected, he let out a long sigh and gave a faint smile—a friendly gesture that made the other girls there stifle their squeals.
"It's alright. It's just a shirt," Alacrix's voice was deep yet soft. "Watch where you're going next time, okay? You're the new scholarship student, aren't you?"
Putri froze. Not because of Alacrix's good looks, but because a wave of guilt washed over her. To her, damaging someone else's property was a serious matter—especially a shirt that looked like it cost as much as her mother's monthly wage.
"Wait! You're Alacrix, right? Let me wash it for you! I'll take it home and bring it back clean tomorrow!" Putri said firmly, even as her stubbornness began to show.
Alacrix let out a small laugh, finding the girl's offer amusing. "No need, Putri. I have plenty of spares in my locker. Just get to class—don't be late on your first day."
Alacrix turned to leave, but Putri grabbed the edge of his shirt sleeve where it wasn't stained.
"Please... I won't be able to rest until I make this right. Let me take the shirt, or I'll follow you all the way to class!"
Alacrix stopped in his tracks. He turned to face her, looking into Putri's wide eyes that radiated both honesty and a unique kind of stubbornness. For the first time, the Student Council President—who was usually surrounded by girls trying to impress him—felt truly seen, all because of a "mistake."
"Okay, if you insist," Alacrix muttered, his eyes holding a glint that was hard to read.
Unbeknownst to them, in a corner of the cafeteria, a pair of beautiful eyes belonging to Deantra Zea Cavier watched the scene unfold, her hands clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white.
"That girl... how dare she touch Alacrix?"