Chapter 8 - CHAPTER 8

This person was Damien.

He had just come out of the principal's office.

"Is there something you need?" he politely inquired, every gesture and movement exuding the demeanor of a noble gentleman.

Kendall had saved his grandfather, and based on that alone, he would treat her patiently and distinguish her from other women.

The principal's office is at the end of the grove.

"Before I answer this question, I want to know, do you wear any perfume?"

A sense of urgency flashed in Kendall's eyes.

In her past life, she had tried using perfume to aid in sleep, but no fragrance could improve her insomnia, not even aromatherapy.

She had no idea what scent Damien carried on him.

"No."

Damien glanced down at the girl's hand tightly gripping his arm, his eyes flickering slightly.

The warmth emanating from the girl's palm seeped steadily into his veins.

Even the coldest person had warm blood flowing within.

"In that case, I have a favor to ask you "

Kendall tightened her grip on him, raising her petite face. "I want to sleep with you, every night."

Damien was left speechless by her words.

A look of astonishment flashed across his handsome face.

Were all kids nowadays so forward?

"You have a unique scent about you that can only be noticed up close. This fragrance can alleviate my insomnia, and I want to sleep with you around."

Kendall explained her intention.

God knows how much she longed for a peaceful slumber.

She even felt a bit regretful that she didn't get closer to him when she accepted his business card earlier, which would have allowed her to discover it sooner.

The man fell silent, seemingly processing this strange situation.

After a moment, he nodded slightly, his voice elegant, "If your parents don't mind, I can do that for you."

She was her grandfather's savior, and he was single, with no fiancée, so there were no other considerations to take into account.

Simply keeping her company during sleep wouldn't be an issue.

"Thank you," Kendall released Damien's wrist, returning to her previous cold and aloof demeanor.

"You're welcome." Damien glanced at his watch.

"School ends at 5:30 p.m., and at that time, I will arrange for the driver to pick you up at the school gate. If there are no other issues, I'll head back to the office."

The Knight Family had a branch in Rosemont.

"Okay."

Kendall nodded and continued walking towards the old school building.

After about five minutes, Kendall arrived at her destination.

It differed from her memory of the school building.

In the original host's recollection, the exterior of the old building had weathered walls, unattractive in color, but the facilities were intact.

However, the current building resembled a haunted house from a horror movie. Large patches of the wall were peeling off, revealing red bricks in some places. Weeds grew around the building, with one particular plant towering even higher than Kendall.

Frowning slightly, Kendall followed the signposts and arrived at the entrance of Class 7 of the senior year.

The classroom door was tightly shut, covered in all sorts of graffiti.

She pushed open the door.

Everyone inside was half–kneeling, their left hands behind their backs, and their right hands extended toward her as if waiting for divine blessings. They murmured words in unison:

"Wise and mighty Goddess Kendall, please ascend to the throne, wield your scepter, and dispel the mist and darkness!"

Slam.

Kendall expressionlessly closed the door.

A few seconds passed.

She opened the door again.

"Wise and mighty Goddess Kendall, please ascend to the throne, wield your scepter, and dispel the mist and darkness!"

Same actions, same lines, same crowd – it felt like copy and paste.

Kendall remained silent.

"Goddess Kendall, don't close the door, there is nothing wrong with the way you open it!"

The leading boy, afraid that Kendall would close the door again, quickly stood up and walked up to her.

He had a handsome face, silver–white short hair, an earring, and a skull ring on his hand, giving off a trendy and rebellious vibe.

"I'm Asher Miller, you can call me Asher."

"We have a rule in Class 7: whoever has the highest combat power is the boss."

"Before you came, I was the boss of Class 7, but during the assembly, I was in the front row and saw the video you recorded of the fight."

"I'm sure I can't beat you, so I decided to step down and make way for you. From now on, you are the boss of Class 7, with the title 'Goddess Kendall!""

As he finished his words, the surrounding students exclaimed with excitement.

Kendall didn't want to pay attention to these overly dramatic students, so she found a quiet corner, sat down, and began reading her book.

"Goddess Kendall seems so aloof… but it's because she is cold and cool that we want to call her Goddess Kendall!"

"Goddess Kendall is so beautiful, we have to nominate her for the school beauty ranking, right?"

"We all need to vote. She is the representative of Class 7!"

The students were full of enthusiasm, but Asher smirked and said, "I won't vote for Goddess Kendall. You guys go ahead."

"You're voting for your girlfriend, aren't you?" Everyone rolled their eyes.

The bell rang, signaling the start of classes.

However, none of the four teachers scheduled for the morning classes showed up. The lessons turned into self–study periods.

If this had happened in any other class, the students would have reported it to the relevant authorities, angrily questioning whether they were wasting their tuition fees.

But in Class 7, the students just enjoyed it.

Eating, sleeping, and playing games during self–study class–wasn't it blissful?

The students didn't feel like studying, and the teachers didn't feel like teaching. Both parties silently agreed not to report the situation.

As a result, Class 7's academic performance continued to decline.

Kendall didn't care about these things.

She only wanted to win the monthly exams.

It was lunchtime.

Seeing Kendall still engrossed in her book, looking genuinely focused, they didn't disturb her.

By the time Kendall looked up again, the classroom was empty, and all that remained was the sound of the gentle breeze rustling the leaves.

She closed her textbook and set out to have lunch outside the school.

As an elite high school, the prices in Powell High School's cafeteria were not affordable for her wallet.

She found an inexpensive restaurant with no one around, ordered a cheap and satisfying curry rice, and sat in an inconspicuous corner.

Halfway through the meal, the restaurant welcomed its second customer, and it was none other than Asher, the former leader of Class 7.

This surprised Kendall slightly.

Except for her, everyone at Powell High School came from prestigious backgrounds, and Asher was among the top–tier students. The Miller Family, to which Asher belonged, was one of the longstanding wealthy families in Rosemont.

Why would someone from such a prestigious family be in a place with this level of expenditure?

Bang!

The restaurant door was forcefully pushed open, and a group of hooligans entered.

Probably because of Asher's striking silver hair, they immediately noticed him.

The leader of the group directly sat across from Asher.

"Well, well, isn't this the young master of the Miller Family? What brings you to this humble eatery instead of having steak and seafood today? Experiencing the life of the common folks?"

"Spit it out if you have something to say," Asher replied impatiently, his face filled with annoyance.

The young hooligan responded, "I'm short on cash. Can you give me some money?"

"I think you're lacking a father's love. You wanna call me Dad?" Asher was not one to be trifled with and immediately fired back.

The way they came straight for money asking their dad for pocket money.

Manage as no different from a child

"Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?" The hooligans surrounded Asher.

"Looking for a fight, huh?"