Jazmin plodded helplessly into the graveyard-silent classroom, her head lowered, as the man at the front was scribbling some words on the blackboard. She held her breath anxiously, waiting for someone to acknowledge her presence. Her brown eyes were glued nervously on the floor, her dark fringe falling past her dark eyebrows. Her nails dug into the coarse straps of her bag out of habit.
Eventually, she heard the sound of chalk against the blackboard pause. She awaited the shrill, gravelly voice of her teacher of English, Mr. Anderson. As well as the cutting, neverending lecture about 'what was expected from a student in their final year'. Then the perfunctory sneers from the onlooking students. She waited for it all with gritted teeth.
However, instead, a sultry, unfamiliar voice rang crisply in her ears. "First day of school and you're late, Miss Everlyne," the unfamiliar man with dark hair and brown eyes addressed her smilingly.
Jazmin finally glanced up and her gaze fell on the handsome man who gazed at her kindly. 'Is he a new teacher? Where's Mr. Anderson?' Quickly, her face was plastered with a scowl. She didn't want to get into a new teacher's naughty list on the very first day of her final year!
Jazmin flinched and stuttered out a response, her cheeks red, "No, uhm, I'm sorry sir. It won't happen again."
A smile emerged on the man's face, his coppery eyes glinting strangely, "I hope not. Now" — he gestured to the seat at the very front which was the only one unoccupied, and it was in the middle row meaning the teacher would have you wrapped round their finger. He smiled warmly, "Take your seat, Miss Everlyne." He then turned his attention elsewhere.
Jazmin smiled back crookedly, her eyes not hiding her displeasure, then she slumped into her seat gloomily. She strapped her backpack behind the chair, then veered her gaze to the blackboard where a name was written in clean and elegant handwriting: 'Mr. Corbyn'
Jazmin heard a soft, impish snicker behind her. Looking from the corner of her eye, she saw a lean and pale young man with dazzling blonde hair and dark eyes grinning at her with his palm on his cheek. "Wow. Is this a new hairdo, coz' you look 'fine'~" he uttered softly, his heavy dialect making the girl's brows raise in amusement. As the boy spoke, his grin revealed his canines that glinted sharply.
She whispered back, "And who might you be, Mr. Not-tall-dark-and-certainly-not-handsome?"
"Just a bored, depressed, in-love young man," he replied, his smile widening again to reveal his sharp canines.
Jazmin smiled slightly, rolling her eyes. It had not been on her agenda to socialize with anyone, not in her red-light district of a new school, but the appearance of this young man had altered her agenda. She was about to mutter a reply. A brief one. However, she felt a firm hand on her shoulder. The hand on her shoulder blade exerted a subtle yet overpowering pressure that made her gulp. The brief reply vanished, replaced by guilt. She nervously lifted her gaze to Mr. Corbyn whose dashing coppery eyes were lowered at her. "Miss Everlyne, Mr. Chapman, I'd prefer it if both of you focused your valuable attention on my lesson rather than your flirting," he said, still smiling down at her.
Jazmin thought she saw a flicker of sympathy dart in his alluring, brown eyes. But she brushed off the thought with a slight, stiff nod to Mr. Corbyn. Jason Chapman rolled his eyes discreetly. They hadn't been flirting, but she found it slightly funny and smiled slightly to herself.
Mr. Corbyn flashed a final smile in response before returning his attention to the rest of the class. He was explaining a new topic in English. He taught well, commendably in fact, in Jazmin's opinion. However, she was the only one critiquing this teaching method in that classroom. The rest were either sliding hands into girls' skirts or spreading legs and stifling their moans. Typical.
Jazmin focused on listening. She wrote short notes, her assortment of pens arranged like weaponry on her desk.
Suddenly, some girl in the back lifted her arm and asked, smacking her lips, "Sir, can you please show me this question?" Mr. Corbyn was instantly at her side to help her with her 'question'. The girl, however, seemed to have a lot more than just questions. Judging from the tie she had earlier loosened and the small breasts literally spilling from her shirt.
When the session ended, Jazmin smiled slightly at the drop of sweat on Mr. Corbyn's handsome face.
She could almost picture him visiting the principal's office to inquire if he could resign.
She quietly packed her books into her satchel, planning to use her free session afterward to study plenty. Like a nerd.
Well, that was her plan. Until she heard a crisp, masculine voice behind her.
"Yo, want to go to the library together, Miss Everlyne?" The quirky blond boy from earlier sprinted up to her. He was clad in the school uniform, unmodified.
Jazmin expected herself to ignore him. She didn't. Was it hormonal control? Or maybe she was interested in the boy(as a friend, that is)?
"Sure," she said laconically. And he grasped her arm. She pulled her arm away, shooting him a glare as though she had caught him stealing meatballs from her lunch.
He chuckled, "My name's Jason and you must be the new girl. Word gets round fast in this posh school, you know."
Jazmin pursed her lips, now staring at him, coldly, "So? What do you want?" She tried to sound subservient and humble, but indifference overcame modesty.
Unexpectedly, Jason merely smirked, "That. That's what I want. That look on your face that says 'Get out of my way, you weirdo. Are you a stalker?' Shit. That's hot. Freaking hilarious, Miss Everlyne. Everyone else in this school gives me looks that make me want to puke on them. Sometimes I do."
Jazmin looked at Jason. Like, she really looked at him, confused. He called her hot. Then he said she was hilarious. He made her feel like he was talking about another girl — a hot and humorous girl who wasn't her. Furthermore, why was this blond beauty even talking to her? She wasn't hot and her dry jokes could make dead men scoff in their graves.
But she smiled at what he said in the end, understanding his reference. Jason was handsome so the vile girls would not fail to give him some puke-worthy advances.
They both went to the library. The girl had lowered her walls to him and he hopped in as though he belonged within the walls.
The library was large and graveyard-silent. Shelves of books towered everywhere, past the floors and the staircases. More and more books. The scent of manuscripts enthralled Jazmin. Jason was also fond of 'reading'. Well, he liked to gloss over magazines displaying glamorous car models and 'wow!' at the cars and do crossword puzzles in newspapers. He said it was 'informative'.
Jason was considerate and never bothered her as she completed her studies. Nonetheless...fifteen minutes later...
"So? Don't tell me you don't want to dissect the insides of this 'elite school' at length," Jason began, balancing a pen on his upper lip(how he spoke while doing so remains a mystery), "Porterhouse Academy is a lot more than the indecorous scene in the corridor, I'll tell you that. Like, there's real drama in this school. Legit."
Jazmin sighed, deciding to place her encyclopedia down. She guessed that the social sciences would have to wait. Clasping her hands together, she asked curiously, "Does this 'legit' drama have anything to do with after-school parties, prom, or this-teacher-got-fired-for-this-reason?"
Jason smirked at her query, and said nonchalantly, "Yeah, those are there too, like they are in all schools. But there's more. For instance, this elite school is rumored to be one of the dens of some very dangerous criminals." He studied her eyes, awaiting a reaction.
Jazmin blinked her eyes at him. "Is your source reliable? If there were criminals, why are they allowed to just stick around?"
"I don't know," he scowled and rubbed his nose bridge, "Maybe the principal is being threatened or something?"
"The principal is an octogenarian with connections in the government and even has a network of influential friends overseas. If these...bandits wanted a hostage like that, they must be a large organization—something that the police cannot overlook unless they're sleeping," the girl remarked thoughtfully.
Her comment made Jason snap his head up and inquire, "What if the police did overlook it? What if the criminals somehow sneaked in, outsmarting everyone including the cops?" After saying this, the young man's face paled in realization.
Jazmin knew he already had the answer in his mind, but she still whispered to him, her gaze ice-cold, "Then all of us are in danger. This is an elite boarding school with many facilities. A place like this as a den for a large organization? It's a good camouflage. Too good to be true, actually. This place could offer them a lot of space since there are areas where students are restricted from trespassing. If they also have the school administration compromised, then they have thousands of hostages, us, right in the palm of their hands."
Jason looked at her and quipped, "You almost sound as though you're a professional bandit, Jaz." He chuckled.
She smiled in response. "You might be surprised when I hold you hostage."