C3 Fleeting Victories

The next day, Theo sighed as she trudged up the steps of Oakwood Academy, backpack slung over her shoulder. The sprawling stone buildings loomed before her, a physical reminder of how out of place she was in this world.

Just one more year, she told herself. One more year of judgmental stares and whispers behind her back. Early acceptance to UCLA was in her sights.

Eight years had passed since her father disappeared without a trace, leaving Theo and her mother drowning in debt. Her mom worked double shifts at Maggie's diner just to keep the repo men at bay, while Theo picked up every odd job she could to help pay the mortgage.

"Hey, Theo!" Her best friend JoJo bounded up, looping an arm through hers. "Did you finish the English homework? I couldn't make heads or tails of question three."

Theo grinned, the tension easing from her shoulders. At least she had JoJo. "Of course I did. Honestly, don't you read the chapters before class?"

JoJo shrugged. "And deprive you of the pleasure of tutoring me? Never."

Theo shook her head with a laugh. Her gaze landed on a group of girls in designer clothes clustered around the entrance, eyeing her and JoJo with unveiled disdain.

Theo stiffened, her fingers tightening around the straps of her backpack. She knew what they saw—a charity case in worn jeans and a faded top, clinging to the arm of another misfit.

"Just ignore them," JoJo said under her breath. "They're not worth it."

Theo clamped her teeth together and lifted her chin. She would not give them the satisfaction of a reaction; it was what they wanted and she would not give them that pleasure. "I know," she said quickly, shifting away from the others. "Come on, we'll be late for English."

"Absolutely, darling. Mr. Beaumont has returned once again with his heavenly grin and a divine complexion." JoJo exclaimed with a radiant smile.

Theo stiffened at the mention of him, her heart turning inward like a stone in a sock.

“What paranoid planet have you been living on,” she sneered sarcastically as another student stifled a chuckle.

The girl winked gleefully before continuing down the hall toward her own class.

JoJo was on the verge of responding when she felt an icy chill emanating from Theo's gaze. "Don't bother answering, I don't actually want to know," Theo snarled mockingly.

"But at least Mr. Beaumont would be proud of me for using such intricate words," JoJo mocked through pursed lips.

As the doors of the academy loomed before her, Theo squared her shoulders. She had survived this place for years, and she would survive for one more. Her father's disappearance remained an unsolved mystery, but she wouldn't give up hope of finding the truth.

Not yet.

She had come this far on grit and determination alone. And that was all she needed.

She let out a sigh, steeling herself for the challenges the day would bring. At least she had English lit first period—the one class where she felt like she actually belonged.

Theo walked into English lit, immediately spotting a pair of empty seats in the back corner. She slid into one just as the final bell rang, avoiding the usual glares from her step-siblings and their friends.

Clearing his throat, Mr. Beaumont peered over the rim of his reading glasses at the attentive faces in front of him. "Welcome to our poetry unit. Today we shall begin our exploration of the world of French poetry. I have carefully chosen partners to work in tandem, which will give you an opportunity to think deeply about a collection of poems. Keep an open mind and be prepared for fresh perspectives as you embark on this journey."

Theo's heart sank. Not a group project—anything but that. She'd likely be stuck with one of the popular girls, who'd pawn all the work off on her.

When Mr. Beaumont read off the pairs, Theo's fears were realized. "Theodora and Savannah, you're together."

Savannah, Queen Bee of the junior class, glanced back at Theo with a scowl. Theo slumped lower in her seat, wishing she could disappear into the floor. How was she going to survive this?

She took a deep breath, remembering the old man's words. She was enough. She had faced worse, and she would get through this.

Theo raised her chin and squared her shoulders, shooting a defiant glare back at Savannah. The older girl's face twisted in fury, but after a few long seconds she spun away with a huff, the smoldering fire of her rage still visible in her eyes.

Theo couldn't help but smirk at her victory, feeling more than ready to take on whatever war Savannah was so eager to wage.