C3 Chapter 3

Yanina’s POV

Have you ever sat through a class that felt like an absolute, never-ending eternity? That was precisely the torture I was enduring during my very first period at Lakewood High.

When the teacher had first marched into the room and introduced himself as Mr. Liam Anderson, my stomach had dropped. I fully expected him to do the typical, agonizing teacher routine: announce to the room that they had a new transfer student, and then force me to stand up and deliver a terribly awkward introductory speech about myself. But to my immense relief, the exact opposite happened. Instead of putting me on display, Mr. Anderson merely waved me up to his desk to hand over a packet of school guidelines. He gave me a brief, monotone lecture about graduation requirements and maintaining proper student discipline—stuff I already thoroughly understood from my old school—before dismissing me back to my seat.

From there, he immediately launched into a dense, incredibly dry lecture on whatever topic the class was currently covering. If I'm being completely honest, I probably should have been taking notes or trying to catch up, but a quick glance around the room revealed that absolutely no one else was paying attention either. The entire class was checked out, completely absorbed in their own private worlds, passing notes or scrolling under their desks.

Coming from a strict, highly regimented boarding school environment, the total lack of structure felt incredibly jarring. At my old school, if your eyes drifted from the chalkboard for even a second, you’d be reprimanded on the spot. Here, it was total anarchy by comparison. I tried so hard to force my brain to concentrate on Mr. Anderson's droning voice, but my mind kept drifting. Eventually, I just gave up. It was a bizarre feeling, honestly—I couldn't remember the last time I had just entirely thrown in the towel on a lesson, but the sheer exhaustion of the morning had finally caught up to me.

When the sharp chime of the bell finally cut through the air ten minutes later, a massive, involuntary sigh of relief escaped my lips. I practically shoved my notebook into my backpack, threw the strap over my shoulder, and eager to escape, darted out into the hallway. One down, I thought. Six to go.

As soon as I cleared the doorway, I spotted Amy and Amadine standing by the lockers. A sudden wave of gratitude hit me; in my rush to escape the classroom, I had almost forgotten their promise to escort me through the labyrinth of hallways.

"Hey!" Amadine called out as I approached.

We traded quick, relieved hellos before heading down toward the ground floor corridors. As it turned out, my luck was actually holding up—we all shared the exact same second-period History class. Having two familiar faces walking beside me made the oppressive weight of the crowded hallway feel a little lighter.

"So, Yanina," Amy started, turning her head toward me as we navigated the throng of students. "Do you want the official, inside scoop on this place? Oh, wait—is it cool if I call you Yanina? Yanina just feels so formal, kind of like how Amadine is a mouthful, but then again, I literally just used your full name, and honestly, my brain just moves faster than my mouth sometimes, so—"

Before Amy could finish her mile-a-minute sentence, Amadine reached over and solidly swatted the back of her head. I froze in surprise, my eyes widening at the casual violence, but I was even more amazed by how fast Amy could actually talk without taking a single breath.

"Ow! You absolute psycho, that actually hurt!" Amy hissed, instantly stopping her monologue to rub the back of her head, throwing a barrage of creative curses in Amadine's direction. It didn't take long to realize that Amy had quite the colorful vocabulary when provoked.

"Well, I'm sorry, but would you please stop rambling about syllables and save the campus tour for later?" Amadine countered, shooting Amy an incredibly pointed look. "If you haven't noticed, we are actually going to be late for History, and Mr. Harrison does not play around with the tardy bell. Besides, I'm sure Yanina would much rather hear your entire life story over lunch anyway. Right, Yanina?"

I bit the inside of my cheek, doing everything in my power to keep from bursting out laughing right there in the middle of the hall. They were total polar opposites—Amy was a chaotic, fast-talking ball of energy, while Amadine was the pragmatic, sharp-tongued voice of reason. I honestly had no idea how two people so fundamentally different had managed to become inseparable best friends.

"Yeah, absolutely," I managed to say, offering Amy a reassuring smile. "Yanina is totally fine. And the school breakdown can definitely wait until we have food."

Amy pouted for a fraction of a second before her bright smile returned, nodding in agreement. We slipped into the History classroom just as the final bell echoed through the PA system. This time, thankfully, the material was actually engaging, and I found myself genuinely paying attention to the lesson.

The rest of the morning flew by in a blur of unfamiliar hallways, and before I knew it, the chaotic roar of the lunch bell signaled the middle of the day.

Periods three and four had been a bit of an awkward, lonely struggle simply because Amy and Amadine weren't in either of those blocks with me. Navigating those classrooms entirely on my own had brought back a nagging hint of my morning anxiety. Fortunately, they had kept their promise to meet me right outside my fourth-period door the second class let out. Seeing their familiar, warm smiles waiting for me in the hallway felt like a lifesaver.

Together, we navigated the heavy traffic flowing into the massive, sunlit cafeteria. We grabbed our trays from the lunch line and threaded our way through the rows of tables, ultimately settling on a long rectangular table situated right in the dead center of the room.

As I pulled out my chair, a strange, prickling sensation began to creep up the back of my neck. I couldn't quite pinpoint why my intuition was suddenly on high alert, but it probably had something to do with the fact that Amy and Amadine had deliberately left three empty seats right next to us, as if they were saving space for someone specific.

Shaking off the uneasy feeling, I sat down and took a quiet bite of my sandwich. My curiosity about Lakewood High was burning, and since the table was relatively quiet, I decided it was the perfect time to restart our earlier conversation.

"So, Amy," I began, setting my sandwich down. "You mentioned earlier that you were going to give me the real rundown on this school?"

The moment the question left my mouth, Amy stopped mid-chew. A brilliant, dangerously bright smile spread across her face. I immediately shot a desperate, questioning glance over at Amadine, silently asking, What did I just unleash?

Amadine didn't say a word. She just rolled her eyes at her best friend's dramatic shift in demeanor, shrugged her shoulders, and silently mouthed the words: Get ready.

Before I could even process the warning, Amy launched into her presentation. "Okay, so first things first: most of the faculty here are actually pretty cool, assuming you stay on their good side. But whatever you do, pray you never get assigned to Mrs. Mebbin. She is a certified, card-carrying bi—well, let’s just say she’s not exactly a fan of teenagers. You know the type."

I nodded, suppressing a chuckle, and gestured for her to keep going.

"And our campus layout is decent. The swimming pool is actually massive, but the gymnasium..." Amy paused, letting out a dramatic, suffering groan. "Ugh, it’s a total nightmare. The P.E. coaches make you work until you are completely drenched in sweat, and honestly, it is just living hell. I can’t even describe how gross it is." She rolled her eyes, making a highly exaggerated face of pure disgust.

"Sounds to me like you just really hate working out," I teased softly.

Amadine chimed in with a smirk. "Oh, trust me, Yanina. There is a very, very long list of things our resident Queen Amy thoroughly despises."

Amy scoffed loudly, tossing a carrot stick at Amadine before turning her undivided attention back to me. "Anyway! The point is, I am your ultimate source for all campus data. I make it my personal business to know exactly who is who in this town. Every clique, every rumor, every single boy."

"Speaking of boys," Amadine interrupted, her eyebrows wiggling mischievously as a wicked smirk spread across her lips. "Where exactly is Rio today? I haven't seen his truck in the parking lot all morning."

The confident aura Amy had been projecting instantly shattered. She choked slightly on her drink, coughing awkwardly as a sudden flush hit her cheeks. "Oh, please," she muttered, rolling her eyes with a bit too much force. "I am honestly thrilled he’s skipping. Today has been wonderfully peaceful without him."

My internal confusion meter was officially off the charts. I looked between the two of them, completely out of the loop. "Uh, guys? Who exactly is Rio?"

Amadine leaned forward eagerly. "He's—"

But whatever explanation Amadine was about to give was completely cut off by a booming, distinct male voice echoing across the cafeteria. Seriously? I thought to myself, a bit annoyed. What is it with people constantly interrupting conversations today?

"What's up, babes?!" the voice shouted.

I instinctively turned my head toward the cafeteria entrance, and the sight nearly made me freeze. Three incredibly good-looking guys were sauntering into the room. The entire cafeteria seemed to shift on its axis; half the students were staring at them in sheer awe, a few teachers looked on with visible exhaustion, and a good portion of the girls in the room were practically drooling.

To my absolute horror, the trio was walking directly toward our table.

The boy who had shouted the greeting was leading the pack. He had light brown hair, an easy, confident stride, and a distinctly athletic build that was completely emphasized by a tight blue t-shirt, dark jeans, and classic converse.

Walking just behind him was a second guy who carried himself with a more laid-back, effortless charm. He had a mop of slightly curly black hair, a model-esque physique, and was dressed in a casual grey tee and dark denim. As his eyes scanned our table, a friendly, easygoing smile crossed his face.

But it was the boy walking right in the center of the group that completely caught me off guard. Let's just say he was, without a doubt, the most striking person I had ever seen in my life. He had a messy, perfectly chaotic mane of dark hair and was wearing a classic black leather jacket over a plain white tee, paired with ripped blue jeans. There was a dangerous, magnetic aura radiating off him that made my heart do a sudden, violent flip.

And then, his dark eyes locked directly onto mine.

He didn't break eye contact for a single second as they closed the distance to our table. A intense, burning blush immediately crept up my neck and flooded my face. Panicking, I forced myself to look away, staring intently down at my half-eaten sandwich. I was completely out of my depth here; dealing with normal people was hard enough, but dealing with guys like him was an entirely different story.

I glanced over at my friends to see how they were reacting. Amadine still had that identical, highly amused smirk plastered across her face, but Amy had gone completely rigid, her posture incredibly tense.

"Amy?" I whispered under my breath, leaning in slightly. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Amy let out a long, defeated sigh, her voice dropping to a cautious murmur. "Yanina... meet the self-proclaimed bad boys of Lakewood High."

The very second the words left her mouth, the three boys slid effortlessly into the empty seats right next to us. A fresh wave of intense nervousness washed over me, trapping the air in my lungs. My mind was suddenly spinning with a million frantic questions. But two specific thoughts kept overriding everything else: Why had the loud, bubbly Amy suddenly gone completely silent? And if these guys were truly the dangerous, rule-breaking bad boys of the school... why on earth were they sitting with us?