Ivana's POV
Senior class. You'd think in a school that claims to be the pinnacle of intellectual excellence, the atmosphere would be different—more refined, more focused. But nope, it's still the same old chaos: rowdy, noisy, and honestly, a little exhausting.
I lean back in on my toes ,observing the madness around me. My attention shifts to the door as the Class B head teacher walks in, commanding the room with a simple clearing of her throat. Instantly, the chatter dies down, and all eyes turn to her—or rather, to me.
Cue my narcissistic side. I raise an eyebrow and flash a smirk. I know I look good—nope, not the overdone ghost-like makeup you might be thinking of. I've refined my style. A look that says confident, not trying too hard. What would Matthew think if I showed up looking like a clown?
Snapping back to reality, I catch the tail end of what the teacher is saying. "Class, meet Ivana Mark. She'll be joining us from today."
She pauses, lips pressed into a thin line. Why is she staring at me like that? Oh, right—time for the obligatory self-introduction.
"Hi, I'm Ivana, but you can call me Ivy," I say, my voice steady and clear, projecting just the right amount of confidence. No need to give them anything more—my reputation will build itself.
I scan the room for a seat and spot an empty one toward the middle. As I walk over, I can feel the stares drilling into my back. Finally, I slide into the seat, noticing the girl next to me staring, dumbstruck.
Have you never seen a hot-blooded human before?" I think to myself, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.
Class resumes, but my mind is elsewhere. I catch glimpses of the typical high school clichés playing out around me. The overenthusiastic jocks tossing a football back and forth despite the teacher's warnings. The giggling girls in the corner, probably gossiping about who's dating who. And then there's the guy sitting by the window, completely absorbed in his notes. There's always that one, isn't there?
But where's Matthew? The thought slips in before I can stop it. I didn't see him in the halls earlier, and he's not in this class. Maybe he's in another section or off somewhere reading. I mentally shake myself. Focus, Ivy. You didn't come here to get distracted by some guy, no matter how intriguing he might be.
The teacher drones on about the syllabus, but I'm not really listening. My thoughts are a mix of everything—this new school, the unfamiliar faces, and the strange mix of excitement and unease that comes with being the new girl. I've always been good at adapting, but something about this place feels different. Maybe it's the way everyone seems to be sizing me up, like they're waiting for me to either prove myself or fail spectacularly.
Whatever. Let them watch. I've never been one to back down from a challenge. Besides, there's a thrill in the unknown, in starting fresh where no one knows your story. It's a chance to rewrite it, to decide who you want to be.
***
Just as I was zoning out again, I heard the girl next to me whisper, "Hey, new girl..." I turned to her, my face clearly showing my what-the-hell expression.
She smiled shyly, and I couldn't help but notice she was actually kind of cute. "Emily," she said.
I blinked, confused. "What happened to Emily?"
She laughed softly, shaking her head. "No, I'm Emily. That's my name."
"Ohhh, Emily. Nice to meet you," I replied, feeling a little awkward for the misunderstanding. I turned my attention back to the teacher, but Emily wasn't done.
"You don't look like you're really listening," she said, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Honestly, most of us don't. She's notorious for being confusing—70% of the time, we don't understand a thing she says."
"Hmmm, okay," I said, trying to sound interested, though my mind was still elsewhere.
"If you're really lost, you might want to check the class forum," Emily continued. "Matt usually posts detailed explanations of everything."
I tried to play it cool, feigning ignorance. "Is he a teacher or something?"
Emily chuckled. "No, he's a student—a genius, actually. His IQ is higher than most of the teachers here."
I raised an eyebrow. "So why isn't he at Harvard or MIT or something?"
"That's the million-dollar question," Emily said, her tone a mix of admiration and confusion. "It's like he doesn't want to miss out on the high school experience or something."
A little voice in my head whispered, Maybe he's staying here because even the Yale professors would feel inadequate around him. Why bother?
"Oh, so he's even smarter than I thought," I murmured, more to myself than to Emily. This might make chasing him a little more interesting.
"Hey, look!" Emily said suddenly, her eyes lighting up as she checked her phone. "The forum's updated—Matt just posted a detailed lesson plan on the topic we're covering right now."
I glanced over at her screen, trying to hide my intrigue. "Are you added to the forum yet?" she asked.
"Nope," I said, shaking my head.
"They'll add you soon," she reassured me.
As the lesson dragged on, I started to wonder more about this Matt. He was clearly brilliant, but what kind of guy stays in high school when he could easily be at a top university? My curiosity was piqued.
The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and as I gathered my things, Emily nudged me. "Want to grab lunch together? I can show you around a bit."
"Sure, why not?" I said, flashing her a smile. We headed out of the classroom and into the bustling hallway. Students were everywhere, chatting, laughing, and hurrying to their next classes. Emily led me towards the cafeteria, pointing out different parts of the school along the way.
As we approached the cafeteria, my attention was suddenly drawn to a figure standing near the entrance, leaning casually against the wall. He was tall, with dark hair that fell just perfectly into place, and even from a distance, there was something magnetic about him. He wasn't paying attention to the crowd around him; instead, he was engrossed in his phone, completely at ease.
"Is that...?" I started to ask, my voice trailing off.
Emily followed my gaze and nodded. "Yep, that's Matt."
I couldn't help but stare a little longer. So this was the mysterious genius who everyone seemed to know about. He looked up from his phone just as we were passing by, and for a brief moment, our eyes met. It was like the world paused for a split second, the noise around us fading into the background.
I quickly looked away, pretending not to care, but my heart had definitely skipped a beat. As we continued walking, I couldn't resist glancing back over my shoulder. He was still there, watching us walk away, a small, amused smile playing on his lips.
"Well, well, Ivy," I thought to myself, "this might be more interesting than I expected."
We found a table in the cafeteria, and as we sat down, I couldn't help but ask, "So, what's his deal? Does he talk to anyone?"
"Matt?" Emily asked, raising an eyebrow. "He's actually pretty reserved. Doesn't talk much unless he's answering a question in class or helping someone out. But when he does, it's like he's speaking another language. Everyone listens when he talks."
"Hmmm," I muttered, my mind already plotting. "Sounds like a challenge."
We spent the rest of lunch chatting about the school, the teachers, and some of the other students. But my thoughts kept drifting back to Matt. I was curious, intrigued, and maybe just a little bit determined to find out more about him.
As lunch ended and we headed to our next classes, I felt a sense of anticipation building. Something told me that Matt Anderson wasn't just going to be another student I passed by in the halls. No, he was going to be a lot more than that.