The moment Nicole stepped into Lincoln High, the hall went quiet — not in awe, but in that cold, cruel way people pause before a storm. Heads turned. Whispers rippled like poison through the crowd. She didn't dress to impress — hell, she barely looked like she wanted to be there. Gray joggers, black hoodie pulled over her head, sleeves pushed to her elbows, hands in her pockets. No makeup, no effort, no need. But that only seemed to make her more dangerous.
"She's the one," someone muttered. "The girl from—"
"Yeah. That's her."
Nicole heard it all. Let them talk.
They didn't know her. Not really. "Slut."
The word was soft, like a prayer, slipping from the mouth of a bleach-blonde girl in a cheer uniform as Nicole passed. Nicole's jaw tensed, but she kept walking — unbothered, unreadable. Her silence was louder than any comeback. "Excuse me," she said as she walked past, her voice honey-sweet but with a blade beneath it. The girl scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Trash."
The blonde wasn't satisfied. "Trying to be lowkey now? Cute. Should've thought of that before you spread your legs."
Nicole stopped. Slowly turned. Her eyes, half-shadowed by her hoodie, met the girl's with a kind of cold that could snap bones.
"Is that your real face," Nicole asked, her voice low, "or did your surgeon give up halfway?"
The hallway buzzed with laughter and gasps, and Nicole turned on her heel, satisfied. The first battle of the day was hers.
"Damn," someone said behind her. "You just got here and already caught a body."
Nicole glanced over her shoulder to see a girl with fire-red box braids and brown skin leaning against a locker, arms folded, eyes gleaming with amusement.
"I'm Tasha," she said. "You must be Nicole."
"Is it that obvious? Or Was it the death stare or the verbal homicide that gave it away?"
Tasha smirked. "Let's just say your reputation showed up ten minutes before you did."
Nicole gave a half-smile, more muscle memory than emotion.
"You in 3B?"
Nicole nodded.
"Cool. I'll walk with you." Tasha's smile softened. "I like the hoodie, by the way. Cozy and lethal."
They moved through the corridor together, a few heads still turning as Nicole passed. Tasha wasn't exactly blending in either — gold hoops, black lipstick, combat boots. She walked like she owned the place.
"You ever been to public school before?" Tasha asked.
"Nope. Catholic school. All girls."
"Oof." Tasha winced. "So you went from the convent to the lion's den."
Nicole gave a short laugh. "I guess."
Tasha leaned in. "You cool with the rumors?"
Nicole arched a brow. "You mean the one where I slept with a female teacher got caught and got expelled?"
Tasha blinked. "So… it's true?"
Nicole stopped walking. Her voice was flat. "It's none of your business."
Tasha raised her hands in surrender. "Fair."
They reached the door to 3B. Nicole took a breath. A fresh start, she told herself.
But she knew better.
They walked side by side, but not together.
Tasha had that effortless kind of confidence — the kind born from not giving a damn. She swung her braids like a weapon, her smile sharp, eyes always watching.
Nicole moved quieter. Slower. But every step landed with purpose, like the floor should be grateful she didn't crack it.
"You're a little famous already," Tasha said as they neared 3B.
Nicole didn't answer.
"You know, people talk a lot of shit here," Tasha added. "Lotta bark. Not much bite."
Nicole's voice was calm. "Let 'em bark. I don't bleed easy."
That made Tasha smile. They walked into class just as the bell rang. The teacher — a middle-aged man with tired eyes and a coffee stain on his shirt — didn't even look up from his laptop. Nicole scanned the room once and felt the pressure shift. The stares weren't obvious. Not all of them. But she felt it — like needles under her skin. Some kids went quiet. Others leaned closer to each other, whispering in half-smiles. She didn't care. She'd walked into worse places. What caught her eye wasn't the noise — it was the silence. Sky Martin sat in the back corner, legs crossed, phone in hand. She didn't look up. Didn't need to. Her body language said this is mine. The girls next to her giggled at something Sky showed them on her screen, then turned to look at Nicole — too quickly.
Nicole clocked the energy instantly.
Not fear. Not respect. Challenge.
She didn't give them the satisfaction of a glance. She walked past, took the desk by the window, and dropped into her seat like a stone. Tasha sat beside her.
"You know Sky?" she asked under her breath.
"Nope."
"Well," Tasha muttered, "she already hates you."
Nicole shrugged. "She can get in line."
The teacher — Mr. Henley, according to the whiteboard — started rambling about classroom policies, late assignments, and how cell phones were "an epidemic." No one listened. Nicole stared out the window. Watched the trees shift in the breeze. A bird landed on the ledge, cocked its head at her. Then flew away. The class dragged. She felt eyes on her back. Heard the sound of Tasha's pen tapping, someone chewing gum too loud, the hum of cheap fluorescent lights. When the bell finally rang, it was like coming up for air. Nicole grabbed her bag. As she stood, a folded piece of paper slid off her desk. She froze. Picked it up. Slut. Just one word. All caps. Black ink. Block letters. No name. No handwriting she could trace.
Tasha caught it too late. "Wait—"
But Nicole was already moving.
She didn't storm off — Nicole never moved fast unless she had to. She walked with calm purpose down the hall, past lockers and water fountains and people who suddenly found their shoes very interesting.
Tasha caught up with her near the stairwell.
"Don't let that shit get to you," she said, breathless. "It's a game. They play it until someone cracks."
Nicole didn't stop walking.
"I'm not playing," she muttered.
"Exactly why they're scared."
That gave Nicole pause. Just enough to glance sideways. "They don't look scared."
"They are. Sky especially."
Nicole's eyes narrowed. "I haven't said a word to her."
Tasha smiled like she'd been waiting for that. "You didn't have to."
The courtyard was buzzing. Music from someone's speaker. The slap of sneakers against pavement. Someone throwing fries, someone yelling about it. Nicole didn't sit in the shade. She picked the edge — full sun, dry grass, the loneliest bench in sight. She didn't care about the food. She needed space. It took less than five minutes before someone tried to fill it. Tasha again. She sat cross-legged on the bench, unbothered by the heat. Pulled a Snapple from her bag and offered it without asking.
Nicole took it. Twisted the cap, didn't drink.
"You're not subtle," she said, dropping beside Nicole. "That's gonna drive people nuts."
Nicole raised an eyebrow. "You want subtle?"
"No," Tasha grinned. "I like messy. But Sky doesn't. Sky saw the note," Tasha said quietly.
Nicole didn't react.
"She was watching you when you read it. Smiled."
Nicole turned toward her. "What's her problem?"
Tasha chewed the gum in her mouth. "You exist."
"That's it?"
"You're quiet. You dress like you don't care. You walk like you know something no one else does." She paused. "Sky likes to be the only mystery in the room."
Nicole looked down at her tray. Picked up a fry. "Not my fault she's basic."
Tasha laughed, loud and real.
"You're gonna survive here," she said. "Might burn everything down in the process — but you'll survive."
Nicole glanced at her, serious now. "I don't care about surviving."
Tasha's smile faded. "What do you care about?"
Nicole didn't answer.
Just looked past the courtyard, beyond the fence, to where the road curved out of sight.
Then she stood up,
"I'll see you around," she said, and walked off.
Tasha didn't follow.