The next day felt like a repeat of the one before — grey, damp, and heavy.
East Willow High stood tall, its aged bricks flaking with years of neglect, its windows clouded by the persistent drizzle. The campus looked like an abandoned prison, except for the endless throngs of students scurrying about, their faces a sea of indifference.
Elian Carter, clad in a worn-out, ill-fitting uniform, walked through the gates of the school, his head bent low. His shoes squeaked against the wet pavement, each step a reminder of his place in this world.
No one knew who he was.
No one cared.
But Elian had come to accept that.
It was easier this way — to blend in, to be invisible.
And yet, as he walked past the cliques and the groups of laughing teenagers, a sharp pang pierced his chest.
He wasn't like them.
He wasn't supposed to be like them.
A group of girls, laughing and whispering in the hallway, shot him a glance as he passed. One of them, Hannah Blake, a sophomore and the self-proclaimed leader of the "Elite Girls' Club," sneered at him, her blonde hair perfect despite the rain.
She was gorgeous, effortlessly so, and she knew it. She was the epitome of high school beauty — tall, thin, with porcelain skin and piercing blue eyes that could freeze anyone in place.
"Look at Carter," she whispered loudly enough for him to hear, her words dripping with disdain. "The forgotten ghost of East Willow. I bet he hasn't even been invited to a prom. He probably doesn't even know what fun is."
Her friends giggled, each one more beautiful and vain than the last.
Elian tried to ignore them, his face growing hotter by the second. But no matter how much he willed it, his body refused to stay calm. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his nails digging into his skin, trying to contain the fury bubbling inside.
"Don't look at them," he whispered to himself. "Don't look at them."
But the truth was, he couldn't stop looking. He couldn't stop caring. The humiliation was always fresh, always raw.
As Elian entered his homeroom, his heart sank even further. The room was filled with students who had the luxury of wealth and status.
He was an outsider.
And it wasn't just the girls who were cruel. It was the boys too — Tyler Spencer, the school's golden boy, a star athlete with a reputation for breaking hearts, tossed a crumpled piece of paper onto Elian's desk as he passed.
"Hey, Carter," Tyler sneered, his athletic build towering over Elian's desk. "When you finish cleaning the gym, come see me. We've got a job for you."
The laughter that followed stung.
It was a joke, of course. Tyler had no intention of asking Elian for help.
It was just another way to remind him that he was beneath them. Always.
Elian looked at the crumpled paper on his desk, his fingers trembling. He opened it carefully, as if reading it would change the world.
The note simply read:
"Pathetic."
His stomach churned. His throat tightened. But he didn't cry. He never cried. He had learned long ago that tears were a weakness. Tears were for people who had the luxury of softness, of sympathy. And he didn't deserve that.
He shoved the note into his pocket, turning his attention to the front of the class as the teacher, Mr. Walters, began his lecture.
His voice was a droning monotone, the kind of voice that made you feel like your soul was being slowly drained away. Elian's eyes wandered to the back of the room where Sophie Richards, the queen bee of East Willow, sat, surrounded by her entourage. Sophie was everything Elian could never be — beautiful, popular, smart, and, most importantly, untouchable.
Her auburn hair cascaded down her back in waves, and her emerald eyes seemed to glow with the kind of fire that made men fall to their knees. Her smile was a weapon, a perfect blend of sweetness and power.
She had everything.
But today, as Elian watched her, there was something different in her gaze.
She wasn't looking at him with disgust.
She was looking at him... with curiosity.
Something in the way her lips curled up in the corners.
Could it be?
Could Sophie Richards, the untouchable goddess of East Willow, actually be noticing him?
His heart skipped a beat, but before he could let the thought linger, Tyler Spencer shot him a glare, pulling Elian back into the harsh reality of his place in the world.
Sophie turned away and resumed her conversation with her friends, her laughter light, like the sound of bells on a crisp winter day.
But Elian's mind couldn't shake the image of her face, the way her eyes had lingered on him for a moment longer than usual.
Was it pity?
Was it disgust?
Or something else?
He didn't know.
He couldn't know.
It wasn't worth it to hope.
The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and the students scattered like rats fleeing a sinking ship. Elian was no exception.
He shoved his books into his bag, trying to ignore the pounding in his chest, and rushed out the door.
The rest of the day passed in a blur.
More taunts.
More jeers.
More humiliation.
Lunch was the same as always — the cafeteria, a concrete jungle where the social hierarchy played out like a cruel joke. Elian sat at the far end of the room, eating alone, as the popular kids threw their food around and made fun of the other students they deemed "lesser." It was a game to them, a show of power.
"Get a load of Carter," one of them snickered, his words loud enough for Elian to hear. "I bet he sleeps under a bridge at night."
Elian didn't react.
It was easier not to.
His only escape came later that afternoon when he retreated to the library — his safe haven.
Books.
Stories.
Imaginations.
As he wandered through the dusty aisles, his fingers brushing the spines of novels, he felt a strange sense of comfort. In this room, he wasn't invisible. He wasn't a joke.
Here, he was someone.
He could be anything.
And then, as if it were fate, he saw her again.
Sophie Richards.
She was sitting at a table near the window, her head buried in a book.
And for the first time since that morning, she wasn't surrounded by her friends.
She was... alone.
Elian felt the pull again — that strange, magnetic force. He couldn't explain it.
Maybe it was curiosity.
Maybe it was desperation.
But before he could stop himself, he walked over to her table, his heart pounding.
"Hi," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Sophie looked up, surprised.
For a moment, there was silence.
And then, with a smile that made Elian's heart skip, she spoke.
"Hey, Carter. What's up?"
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