Chapter 2

BIANCA

I writhed in pain, holding my face as I turned to see who had landed such a stinging slap on my cheek. It was Angie, the cheerleading captain, and Rowan's girlfriend. She stood there, fuming, her eyes narrowed to slits and her chest heaving with barely contained rage.

"What have I done to you?" I asked as I struggled to comprehend what she had done. I had never even spoken to her before, and I couldn't understand why she would physically lash out at me like this.

The students around us began to gather, their faces alive with fascination. I could feel their eyes on us, eager to witness what they thought was a fight about to break out. I guess they wanted to know what stuff I was made of, being the quiet one.

"Stay away from my boyfriend!" Angie yelled at me, her voice shrill and accusatory. "Rowan is mine, and I will not watch anyone take him from me," she continued her rant building in intensity.

I covered my throbbing cheek, glaring at her. I endured the quadruplets because I didn't want my mother to collapse, but Angel? She hit me for a reason that wasn't my fault.

No! I wouldn't accept it. "This time, I'll assume you're just crazy to lay a hand on me. Remember, there won't be a next time!"

With that, I shoved her away, my expression fierce. But evidently, my dismissive words angered her.

"An omega dares to threaten me? Really?" Angel sneered coldly, her palm raised once again, but I grabbed her wrist.

"But as the beautiful cheerleading captain, you still fear me, an omega, stealing your boyfriend, don't you?" I mocked, looking at her derisively. "Or are you just another boring pretty girl with an empty head?"

"What?!" Angel hesitated, unable to fathom that I, as an omega, could dent her confidence.

The crowd watched in surprise as I held my own against the almighty cheerleading captain, thinking I had gone mad.

Just when I thought Angie had learned her lesson, she lashed out again, kicking at me and causing me to stumble and fall. As she raised her hand to slap me once more, a girl suddenly appeared, reminding us that the teacher was on their way.

Angie hesitated, her eyes darting around at the gathering crowd. Then, with a final, withering glare in my direction, she said, “This is not over.”

As I smiled gratefully at Leile for her support, Angie's mocking words cut through the air like a knife. She had decided to turn the screw on her. “I shall not remind you again that crossing my path is a dangerous game to play.”

But Leile was quick to stand up to her, her retort a defiant reminder that Angie wasn't the only girl who had a say on how things should be run in school.

"You think you know it all, don't you?" Angie sneered, her voice dripping with disdain.

But Leile refused to back down, her words a resolute rebuttal to Angie's taunts. "Maybe I do," she shot back, her tone laced with a quiet confidence. "At least, I know enough to see through your shallow facade."

Angie fell silent, her face flushed with anger as she struggled to find a response. But before she could utter another word, Leile's unwavering gaze silenced her.

Then, with a final, withering glare in my direction, she turned and stalked off, her cheerleading squad trailing behind her like a pack of loyal subjects.

“Thank you,” I said to Leile.

“You should be careful,” she just said and walked.

During the class, as the teacher droned on about outdated formulas and archaic theories, I couldn't help but feel a surge of frustration building within me. With a respectful tone, I attempted to point out the flaws in his reasoning, hoping to contribute constructively to the discussion.

“Thank you, sir,” I said as I sat down, seeing nothing wrong in what I had done.

But my words were met with a chorus of derisive laughter from my classmates, their mocking jeers echoing off the walls of the classroom. I felt their scorn like a physical blow, the weight of their collective ridicule bearing down upon me like a crushing weight.

“All hail Socrates!,” one guy said, amidst the deafening laughter.

“She must think she's all-knowing,” another mocked.

The teacher, who had been taken aback by my audacity, struggled to regain control of the unruly class. His shock quickly turned to anger as he lashed out at me, his words dripping with venomous contempt.

"Who do you think you are, challenging me like this?" he spat, his face contorted with rage. "You're just a student, nothing more. You know nothing!"

The laughter of my classmates swelled to a deafening crescendo, drowning out the sound of my voice as I attempted to defend myself against the onslaught of their scorn.

"Get the hell out of here!" the teacher bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls like a thunderclap. Unable to bear the weight of their ridicule any longer, I rose from my seat and made my way toward the door, my classmates' jeers following me like a relentless echo of my inadequacy.

I walked out expressionless, even grateful to escape that stuffy classroom.

My cheek still throbbed, and I made my way to the bathroom, attempting to ease the pain with cold water. A hand-holding ice appeared before me.

It was Leila. "I'm sorry that you have to go through that shit."

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice barely above a croak, as I accepted the ice from her.

"I don't want to be in that classroom either. Despite the school's resources, they'll never learn to recognize truly strong individuals, like that conservative teacher," Leila explained, sensing my confusion.

I wasn't sure if she genuinely meant well or had ulterior motives. But wasn't I just an omega?

For several minutes, we stood in silence, as I washed my face while Leila offered me silent support. Just when I thought she would leave me alone, she spoke up again. She talked about how she had sought my attention, “but you're always too engrossed in your books,” she said, smiling. “I like you very much, Bianca,” she added.

“Thank you,” I just said, focused on getting the mess off my face and clothes.

Determined to get my attention, she went to talk about her parents, how she hated to be part of the wealthy class simply because “they suck at nearly everything,” as she put it. She then mocked her parents for planning a big birthday party for her “just to introduce me into the local circle. I hate the thought of it, Bianca,” she said, hoping to get a reaction from me.

“You're lucky to have them,” I said, finally making her feel I held an interest in whatever she had to say to me.

“You think?.”

“I know.” Turning around, I thanked her for keeping me company. “I must return to my quarters now,” I added.

"Can you come over for my birthday party?" Leila asked, her voice hopeful. "I'm having it at my house this Saturday."

I hesitated. I had not expected her to invite me. "Why?" I asked, my voice laced with uncertainty.

"You're the only one I want around, Bianca," Leila replied. "I know we're not close, but I've always admired you from afar. You're smart, you're funny, and you're not afraid to stand up for what you believe in. I think you would fit right in with my group of friends."

My heart skipped a beat. I had never thought of myself as someone who would fit in with Leila's popular crowd, but Leila's words made me feel like I might have a chance at belonging somewhere.

"I'll think about it," I said, trying to hide my excitement.

With that, I turned and walked away, my head held a little higher than before. I didn't know if I would go to Leila's party, but just the thought of having a potential friend made me feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness of my humiliation.

I got back to my dormitory, giving serious consideration to Leila's request. A part of me wanted to attend, but the thought of my stepbrothers made me hold back. Unfortunately, all my social activities had to be approved by them. Luckily, since I moved in with my mum, I've never had the luxury of having a friend, thus saving me the torment of seeking their approval.

Determined to show up for Leila, I decided to seek their consent. I entered their dormitory that evening, hoping against hope that they would be merciful enough to consider my request. I pressed the doorbell several times, hoping one of them would show up. But when none did, I entered the password Lord Ethan had given me to open the door.

“Hello?,” I said, as I walked in, my eyes observing.

Just when I thought no one was in, Oak emerged from the stairs, with only a towel tied around his strong body. He looked so enticing.

“What do you want?” he asked, surprised to find me. “And how the hell did you get in here?.”

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