Thea Devereux trailed behind Marcus as they left the bustling cafeteria, her usual sharp observations dulled by a persistent, low-grade annoyance. The image of Cassia practically beaming next to Anya Sterling in the private lounge kept replaying in her mind, a particularly unwelcome rerun.
"You're awfully quiet," Marcus commented, nudging her arm with his elbow. "Still brooding about the golden duo upstairs?"
Thea scowled, kicking a stray napkin across the polished floor. "They're not a 'golden duo.' They're… Cassia and her." She couldn't even bring herself to say Anya's name without a hint of distaste.
Marcus chuckled, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Someone's feeling a little replaced."
"Don't be ridiculous," Thea snapped, though the heat rising in her cheeks betrayed her.
"It's just… I don't understand what Cassia sees in her. Anya's so… bubbly. Almost aggressively cheerful. And her style? Those rainbow streaks? It's hardly the epitome of Charterhouse chic."
"Maybe Cassia likes the contrast," Marcus suggested, ever the pragmatist. "You two are… intense. Anya's probably a breath of fresh, slightly chaotic air."
Thea shot him a withering look. "Chaotic is one word for it. Disruptive is another."
As they walked towards their lockers, Thea's gaze drifted again, this time catching sight of the scholarship girl, Louisa Wren, talking intently with her two friends, Ellie and Scarlet. There was a palpable tension around them, a silent storm after the brief, bizarre interaction with Jayden King.
"Look at them," Thea murmured, more to herself than to Marcus. "Even the charity cases are causing drama now."
Marcus followed her gaze. "Jayden actually went down there. That was a first."
Thea's brow furrowed. "What do you think that was about?" A flicker of curiosity, momentarily eclipsing her annoyance with Anya, sparked within her.
The social dynamics of Charterhouse were a delicate ecosystem, and any disruption, even one involving the scholarship students, could have unforeseen consequences.
"Who knows with King?" Marcus shrugged. "Probably just bored. Or maybe Jacobs finally managed to get his attention with some juicy gossip."
But Thea wasn't so sure. There was something in Jayden's demeanor, a subtle shift from his usual detached coolness, that had caught her eye.
It hadn't looked like mere amusement. It had almost looked… concerned? Or perhaps that was just her overactive imagination.
"That Louisa girl," Thea said slowly, her gaze lingering on the determined set of Louisa's jaw. "She seems… different. Not like the other scholarship students who just try to blend in."
"Troublemaker type, maybe?" Marcus offered.
Thea considered this. "Or maybe… someone who's not afraid to look the King in the eye." A grudging respect, surprising even to herself, colored her thoughts.
As they reached her locker, Thea's mind was no longer solely focused on Anya and Cassia's easy laughter. A new thread of intrigue had been woven into the tapestry of her Charterhouse observations – the unexpected interaction between the aloof Jayden King and the seemingly defiant scholarship girl.
Whatever was brewing, Thea had a feeling it was going to be more interesting than alien pancake macarons.
*****
The sound of the crashing tray and splattered red sauce still played in Maya's head like the worst TikTok fail ever. The rest of lunch was just a blur of people pretending not to see her and whispering behind their hands. Kora and her minions' laughter was like nails on a chalkboard compared to the sudden silence around her.
Now, walking through the halls after lunch felt like dodging landmines. Every glance felt like people were judging her, every hushed convo was probably about "spaghetti girl."
She clutched her books super tight, trying to become invisible, which was the total opposite of how she felt on day one – all nervous but kinda hopeful.
The whispers followed her, even if they were quiet. She'd catch bits like "spaghetti disaster," "total klutz," "so embarrassing."
Each one was like a little jab, making the pit in her stomach even deeper. Even kids she didn't know were looking at her with this mix of pity and "ew, don't touch her."
Her usual quiet corner in the library, her chill zone away from the Charterhouse chaos, now felt gross. She could just imagine the side-eyes and silent jokes that would hang in the air. Instead, she found this super out-of-the-way table in the back, hoping the textbooks could act like a force field.
But even trying to read about dead people couldn't totally distract her. Her brain kept replaying the moment the tray went flying, her mortified gasp, and Kora's super mean laugh. It wasn't just the food; it was everyone seeing her totally fail at something that seemed so easy for everyone else.
A wave of major loneliness hit her. She missed her old school, her real friends, that feeling of actually belonging. Here, she felt like a total outsider, always on edge, one wrong move away from another epic fail.
As the afternoon dragged, Maya noticed how some kids were acting around her. A few gave her these quick, awkward smiles, which felt almost worse than the stares – like, "Oh, you poor thing." Others just straight-up avoided eye contact, like her embarrassment was contagious. Kora and her crew, though, kept up their subtle torture, the pointed looks and muffled giggles a constant reminder of her lunchtime meltdown.
By the time the final bell screamed, Maya was totally drained. The whole day, just being "spaghetti girl," was exhausting. She walked super slow towards the bus stop, everyone else's end-of-school energy feeling like a slap in the face.
Waiting for her bus, she saw that Louisa Wren girl and her friends, Scarlett and the redhead, Ellie. They looked all serious, whispering to each other. For a second, Louisa's eyes met Maya's. There was this look in Louisa's eyes – not exactly pity, but almost like she got it? But it was gone super fast, and they kept walking.
Maya sighed, staring at her bus pulling up.
This little bitter feeling started growing inside her. In the rich, fancy world of Charterhouse, some spills were obviously a way bigger deal than others.
And for Maya Lim, the spaghetti stain felt like it might be there forever.