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Out of the corner of my eye, Aleksandr stalks past my desk down the aisle. When his back is to me, I glance over to watch him approach a pair of girls sitting at the front of the class. One of them greets him and flashes a flirty smile that makes my guts curl.
She flips her long, blonde hair, and that’s when I realize it’s the same girl I asked for directions earlier: the one who pretended not to speak English.
The one I called a bitch to her face.
It’s official: this day couldn’t get any worse.
When the teacher dismisses us for lunch, I’m relieved to escape the stifling classroom. The atmosphere in there is intense and competitive, and I wouldn’t put it past the students to slit each other’s throats to get to the top of the class.
At least I’m safe. I’m not a threat to anyone’s grade standing.
Lunch is served in a cavernous hall that reminds me more of a ballroom than a cafeteria. Students sit at long, wooden dining tables with upholstered seating, and large windows let in abundant natural lighting.
I wait my turn in the food line, and as much as I don’t want to admit it, I’m impressed. The buffet of fresh pasta, soup, and salad sure beats the pizza at my school back home, and I’m pretty certain that’s schnitzel at the end of the line.
I opt for a salad and a bowl of cream soup before taking a seat at the far end of the room, away from the curious eyes of the other students. Drawing any more attention as the new girl from a different country is the last thing I need right now.
The quiet hum of chatter echoes against the high ceilings of the room, and I wish I’d thought to bring my earbuds to listen to music. I won’t forget tomorrow.
When I take my first sip of soup, I almost moan aloud at how delicious it is. Maybe there are certain perks to attending a rich kid school, like the fancy lunches. At this rate, I’ll put back on all the weight I lost by the end of the semester… if I last that long.
A loud clatter on the floor rings out. Everyone goes quiet and looks at the center of the room, where a few students are facing off.
“You should watch where you’re going, Prisha. That’s what happens when you break your glasses.”
It’s the same blonde bitch from this morning. I’m not surprised she’s mean to everyone, and I’m irked to hear the perfect English spewing from her mouth. Her friend from earlier is beside her, and she reaches out to pluck the glasses off their victim’s face.
“Gosh, these are hideous,” she sneers. She drops them to the floor and steps on them, bending the frames beneath her shoes and shattering the lenses with a sickening crunch.
“Please, I’m sorry,” the girl, Prisha, pleads. “It won’t happen again.”
Prisha looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t place it. She’s shaking like a leaf as she cowers in front of them.
My eyes land on two boys watching the scene unfold with malicious amusement. One of them is tall and quite attractive, with thick, wavy brown hair.
The other is Aleksandr.
“Why don’t you eat lunch here like a normal girl?” says the blonde. “Your curry stinks up the entire room.”
My blood is boiling. None of the other students in the room are making a move to step in. The only adult in sight is a weary-looking lunch lady who doesn’t get paid enough to scold a bunch of quarreling rich kids.
The dark-haired girl slaps the lunch bag out of Prisha’s hand, and food splatters everywhere.
“Ugh, look what you’ve done!” the blonde shouts, though she directs her ire at Prisha.
“Johanna, please, I’m sorry—”
“You better be. Your disgusting curry almost stained my uniform. My maid would never be able to get the stench out.”
It’s clear she’s the queen bee around here, and no one is willing to step up because they’re either in on the joke or they’re too afraid to speak out.
But I’m not, and I’ve had enough of this bullshit.
“Hey, bitch. Shut the fuck up.”
If the room was silent before, you can hear a pin drop now. All eyes turn to me, including the malevolent gazes of Prisha’s bullies.
“Excuse me?” Johanna asks. “Who do you think you are speaking to me like that?”
