Ayla's POV
If hell had chandeliers and a dress code, it would look exactly like Solaria Girls Academy. Behind the gleaming floors and perfect uniforms, behind the media-friendly image of the "best school in New York," there was a truth nobody talked about. The power hierarchy.
By my first day, I could see it all. Every group arranged by family wealth, every laugh a currency, every glance a subtle battle for approval. When they sat one or two, they were always talking about money, shares, and investments.
The cafeteria was chaos with a price tag. Every table was a runway of designer bags, whispered gossip, and fake smiles. Girls laughed too loud, posed too hard, and waited for one person's reaction: Elena Morgan.
Yeah. That Elena. My desk-mate. Everyone wanted her approval. A simple nod from her could be a lifetime trophy in Solaria. Everyone fought for her attention. She was the crown jewel, walking ego trip, untouchable and untamed.
I stepped inside the cafeteria, backpack slung over one shoulder, scanning the battlefield. Tables were kingdoms, and everyone had their place except me. The new girl. Unknown. A loose cannon.
I found a corner and sat silently, pretending to disappear. Then her voice cut through the hum of conversation like a whip.
"Lima, Ohio girl," she said.
I stopped mid-stride. Every head turned. Every eye snapped to me. Then laughter sparked, soft at first, like a spark before spreading into wildfire.
What a perfect day one, and I already had a nickname. Nice one.
I forced a smile. The kind that said try me.
"Didn't realize geography was part of lunch today," I said, loud enough for half the cafeteria to hear.
Gasps and chuckles followed. Mouths opened in shock. Elena's icy blue eyes lifted from her untouched salad. She leaned back, chin high, eyes calculating.
"We like to know where our… guests come from," she said, voice sharp. "And just to remind you, you don't blab on someone's turf without respecting the homeowner. Consider this your first warning."
"Then the homeowner should understand the need to treat guests well, so they respect them too," I shot back, walking past her table.
The cafeteria froze. Girls blinked. Mouths opened. Some whispered, "Is she really talking to Elena that way? First time in history."
Elena's lips curved, not quite a smile, not quite a threat, more a flash of shock. Is this really happening? I kept my head high, proud, unflinching.
Her gaze followed me as I grabbed a tray and headed to an empty seat. My hands didn't shake, even though my stomach wanted to. I never tolerated what I wouldn't accept.
Let her look. Let her think she could embarrass me. I had been through worse than cafeteria politics.
Still, when I glanced up, she was studying me like a puzzle she didn't remember leaving unsolved. And for some reason, that look burned hotter than the nickname ever could.
I unpacked my lunch like I owned the space. Confidence was armor, sharper than her designer heels.
Then she spoke again, across the room like a whip.
"Enjoying your first day, Lima?"
"I prefer Ayla," I shot back. "But if you want to practice geography, I can help."
A cafeteria roar erupted. A few students gasped in shock. A smirk tugged at her lips, small, dangerous, promising trouble.
I leaned back, fork poised over food like a general with a weapon. "Be careful," I said. "I'm not just pretty. I bite too."
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!" another scream from the crowd. Elena raised her eyes, cold and precise, and the room fell silent again. Then a faint, deliberate, slow clap from her. Amused? Annoyed? I didn't care yet.
Whispers grew louder. Two strong personalities colliding. The poor Lima girl versus the bastardly rich queen. Better than TV.
Everyone wanted to see what would happen next.
Minutes passed, tension thick. I noticed Elena whispering something to a few girls.
Then her voice cut sharper, louder.
"Guys," she said, crisp, addressing the cafeteria and me simultaneously. "I guess you all heard just now. Guests must be treated with respect."
"Yeeeeeeeeeeeees!" the whole cafeteria screamed.
"And," she continued, tilting her head slightly, smirk playing at the corner of her lips, "having learned one or two trainings from our big guest from Lima, I've decided to be magnanimous and move our esteemed guest to the Queen's dorm, precisely my dorm. Not just anywhere, but here, in my room. Because it would be so rude of me to leave my guest at the regular dorm while I stay in the Queen's dorm. Lima, I trust you'll find it… enlightening."
The cafeteria erupted. Phones lifted. Murmurs floated. Gasps passed like a chain reaction. Someone whispered, "She is in trouble. No matter how big and nice the Queen's dorm can look, it would be hell staying there after offending Elena."
I froze mid-bite, heart hammering.
"Excuse me?" I said, blinking at the reality.
"You're welcome, Lima," she said, voice silky. "I'm sure you'll enjoy life in a dorm like no other, where everyone wants to get in badly. I'm giving it to you for free on your first day at Solaria."
"Thanks for your kind treatment, but I'm not interested," I said, standing and forcing confidence.
"But the real issue," she said, smiling at the whole room, "is you have no choice. No right to reject what I offer."
I narrowed my eyes. "Even if your dorm swap is… what? A slave labor camp?"
Her smile widened just slightly. She didn't correct me. Didn't flinch. Just let the words hang like a dare.
I glanced around. The cafeteria had become a theater. Some eyes sympathetic, some gleeful, some satisfied, others curious. And Elena's eyes bored into me, enjoying this protagonist versus antagonist show.
I leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Let me get this straight. You want to move me into your dorm… because you like to play puppeteer?"
Her lips quirked. "I like things… in order," she said, teasing. "You'll find it… enlightening. And guess what the real deal is here? Since you claim being a guest, I intend to treat you like a guest… forever."
"Awwwwwwnnnnnnnnnn, it's going to be sweet these days!" someone screamed, while others laughed.
"Not possible," I snapped. "Even if my dorm has to be changed, it shouldn't be by you. I'm assigned a dorm already, and nothing's changing." I swung my key in front of her, picked up my backpack, and stormed out, heading to the teachers' office.
Her voice called after me, loud enough for the cafeteria.
"Nothing can change it… but Elena cannnnnn!"
Murmurs and mocking laughter followed me down the hall.
And yet, even with the world seemingly against me, a grin tugged at my lips.
Let her play her games. I had fire too.
And the war had just begun.