(Song of the chapter:The Way You Make Me Feel - Michael Jackson)

RHYS

"Hey Rhys, who was that?" Jasper, one of my best friends, asked as he came up beside me, tilting his head in the direction the girl had just run off in.

Girl. It was a girl...and she had bruises on her arm. That guy she was with had given them to her. My blood started to boil just thinking about it, but I replied calmly.

"I have no idea," I told him honestly.

I peered at the school doors she'd gone through for a few moments, then turned away dismissively.

"This school seems weird to me already. Can we turn back now?"

"Hey, don't piss on it before you've tried it," Lilith spoke up, sauntering over to us but glaring specifically at me. I stared back, unfazed.

She suddenly broke out in a smile.

"This is America, and we're about to enroll in an American high school." She bounced on the balls of her feet, barely containing her excitement. "Do not ruin this for me," she warned me.

Behind her, Brandon sighed.

She'd been so excited about it that none of us wanted to deter her from her sudden quest for education. To be fair, the fans had dared us and we ourselves figured it was probably time to get back into school, but no one had jumped on board as much as Lilith had. We'd been left with no choice but to go along with it.

"Who knows, something good might actually come out of this," Brandon spoke up. Lilith turned to him, nodding gratefully.

My lip twitched as I stared at Brandon. Lilith always failed to notice that Brandon frequently took her side, and I'm not sure Brandon noticed either.

I darted a glance at Jasper, who looked amused. My best friend made it a point to act like a buffoon on a regular basis so people would fail to notice the sharp intelligence in his eyes. Something like Brandon's little crush on Lilith wouldn't have made it past him.

He assured me, though, that it wasn't serious and just stemmed from being so comfortable with her. I believed him.

I blew out a breath, then slid my shades back on. Direct light hitting my eyes was the most annoying thing, and that went for sunlight and paparazzi flashbulbs.

"Come on, then," I told my friends. "Let's get this over with." We turned around then, as one, we headed into the school building.

AVALON

Was he bothering you?

Ocean Eyes' – his name I'm sure was probably Rhyland – words haunted me as I made my way to my first class. I was tardy for the first time in my life, but I was too dazed to even care.

The look in his eyes, the way he'd stared after Jacques... it was almost surreal. In that moment, he reminded me of some avenging angel. Or some protective knight

It was almost like he... cared.

I've been bullied since the fifth grade... it had steadily gotten worse in middle school, and during that time no one – absolutely no one – had interfered or helped me up whenever my tormentors knocked me down.

People would either stare or smile whilst throwing insults, adding those to my injuries. Some – a few – would look at me with pity, or at least relief that they weren't in my shoes.

But no one ever asked if I was okay or extended any words of care. That was how far Jacques' influence reached. I'm sure my stepsister had something to do with it as well.

Lol, of course I have an evil stepsister. You thought this book wasn't a cliché? Lmaooooooo.

So, the circumstances of this morning really had me shook. Somehow, some guy I'd never even met cared that Jacques was bothering me.

Maybe he hadn't gotten the chance to be influenced by Jacques yet?

I chewed on that for a second. Somehow, Ocean Eyes – Rhyland – didn't seem the type to blindly follow the top dog, like a sheep. He looked like the sort of guy who made up his own rules and his own mind. An alpha of a kind, though I could be wrong. I didn't think I was.

Could Evercrest High handle two alphas? I had a feeling Jacques and Ocean Eyes were either going to clash soon or become best friends.

Remembering the glance he'd sent in Jacques' direction, I had a feeling it wouldn't be the latter.

So what did that mean for me?

Was it possible that the stakes had changed? All because of one guy?

My thoughts occupied me throughout most of school, and when I made my way into my AP Economics class – which was my last period – I couldn't tell you how I had gotten there.

Mechanically, I made my way to my usual seat and the same spot I sat in all my classes, the farthest seat to the right in the last row.

I pulled my hood down since I couldn't have it up in this class, then opened my notebook, trying to be unobtrusive. I received a few leers from some of Jacques' cronies who were also in class, but for the most part I was left alone.

The teacher for this class – Mr. Graham – always arrived on time so they had no chance to try anything before he got in. I ignored then and uncapped my pen, Lana's sultry voice filling my ear as she sang about 'Summertime Sadness'.

I got that summertime, summertime sadness
S-s-summertime, summertime sadness

Well, lucky you Lana, I thought sarcastically. At least your sadness is restricted to one season of the year.

I scribbled furiously in my notebook until the late bell rang. I pressed pause on my Spotify then pulled my headphones down. I looked up to see Mr. Graham already in the class, checking his watch.

Mr. Graham was one of the most well-liked teachers in the school, (1) because he was actually nice, and (2) because he was, as the graffiti in the girls' bathroom professed, smoking hot.

With slick brown hair and forest green eyes, his class this year was filled with mostly girls, and not all of them looked like they were here to get passing grades.

Like Aurora Summers, who casually walked in while Mr. Graham was busy setting down his things, entirely proving my point. She was one of the five 'It Girls' at Evercrest High, which is what everyone called them. She had platinum blonde hair, bordering white, and her feline-looking green eyes were so noteworthy that I considered them her best asset.

Sadly, I was mostly alone in my opinion.

Her massive jugs and small, tapered waist drew more attention, especially among the male population. Right now she fit the very definition of 'hourglass' with her tight black tube skirt, which reached past her knees but also blew out her round bottom to massive proportions, and a red strapless crop top that was also skin-tight. She paired them with Michael Kors booties and a white faux-fur jacket.

I actually really liked the way she dressed. She liked to flaunt what she got, but never made it look trashy.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Graham," she said coyly, giving him a sultry half-grin with her pouty red lips. The sounds of multiple males panting made me roll my eyes.

Mr. Graham raised an eyebrow at her, looking fixedly at her face.

"Well good afternoon, Miss Summers. Thanks so much for joining us." He gestured towards the seats.

"Please do have a seat."

A few students snickered but Aurora just smirked, sashaying towards the back in a way that made heads turn to watch her. She settled in the empty seat beside me and I looked at her curiously.

For someone who really liked attention, she always sat in the back seat and always at the one by my side in every class we shared, not that we shared much. I had a feeling that she would've taken my spot – in the furthest corner of the room – if I didn't always get to classes first.

She also never said anything to me, or even spared me a glance. It wasn't like I wished she gave me biting remarks or evil eyes, but since she was one of the most popular girls in school, I just always expected her to.

The sound of Mr. Graham clearing his throat made me turn my gaze to the front of the room.

"Before we begin talking about basic economic concepts, which we'll be discussing this week, it has been brought to my attention that we have a new student in class today."

That simple sentence had me tripping. My heart pounded at my ribs and the sound of blood rushing in my ears was almost overwhelming. I suddenly had a really, really bad feeling about who the new student might be.

I tore my gaze away from Mr. Graham to my notebook in an effort to regain my bearings, but then I just stared incredulously at my scribblings. I'd unconsciously written 'Rhyland' over and over on the page.

Good God. I quickly shut my notebook and tried to get a grip, hoping no one was noting my reactions.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Aurora's gaze fixed on the spot on my desk where my notebook had been opened. I snuck a glance at her but her expression was unreadable.

Mr. Graham retrieved a piece of paper from his pocket, and while he unfolded it I wiped my palms on my jeans and inwardly berated myself.

Why the hell was I acting like such a lunatic? He'd spoken only four words to me this morning... and what was it I'd said to him? No hablo español?

¿Soy estúpido?

My face burned. I needed to keep my distance from him and be as inconspicuous as possible from now on. I didn't want him to remember me.

Mr. Graham finished unfolding the paper then cleared his throat.

"Rhyland Mason? Could you please introduce yourself to the class?"

"It's Rhys," came the lazy reply, "And I'd honestly rather not."

My head, along with several others, swiveled to face the dark-haired student who currently occupied the seat at the far left side of the last row. My heart skipped a beat as I realized he was only a few seats away from me.

Whispers and mutterings filled the class.

"Rhys is so hot", I heard one girl squeal.

"He's even better looking in person than in the videos", another female whispered excitedly.

"He's just as rude too!"

The last one made me snort. Lol, what?

Curious, I studied Ocean Eyes – Rhys – to see how he was taking all the gossip, but he didn't even seem to hear them. He just tapped his pen on his desk with a bored expression on his face, looking like he'd rather be anywhere but here. I found myself sympathizing.

Mr. Graham looked amused at the amount of disruption Rhys's statement had caused.

"Right then. No introductions necessary." He turned to the whiteboard and grabbed a marker.

"Class has begun," he stated, and all the whispers died.

I flipped past the page where I'd doodled his name over and over and tried to pay attention to Mr. Graham's explanations of scarcity and opportunity cost, but I found myself repeatedly glancing over to where Rhys sat. Questions filled my mind while I jotted down my notes.

Why had he joined some no-name school in Connecticut when he was obviously rich and could have gone somewhere better? How close were the Four Horsemen, and why did they all decide to enroll in the same school at the same exact time? Why couldn't I take my eyes off him and fucking concentrate on the lesson I was being taught?

What possessed me to say the words 'No hablo español' to him this morning?

Gritting my teeth, I forced my mind to clear of thoughts before I broke the tip of my pencil from pressing down too hard.

Now that I wasn't so caught up in my own head, I heard a few murmurs coming from the room. I looked up from my notebook and saw some guy in a football jersey take a note from someone in front of him, then turn to the guy behind him and hand him the note while whispering in his ear.

I watched him, distracted, and as if he felt my gaze he looked up. There was a smirk on his face, and he continued whispering to the guy while holding my gaze. I realized that whatever he was trying to pass on was probably intended for me.

I returned to my notes and waited, and sure enough when the whispers ended this time, I found a folded note on my desk.

I contemplated it, amused. My bullies have repeatedly shown that they could break my bones with their fists, but their words could never hurt me, mostly because their insults were truly pathetic.

Only Jacques wielded the power to hurt me with words – well, one word in particular – but he wasn't in this class and passing it across using someone else just wasn't as effective.

So, to open or not to open?

Why not? I thought, grabbing the paper. Maybe it wouldn't half-bad this time. Make my day.

I opened the note quite eagerly, which may have confused any bullies watching me.

The contents made me want to bang my head on my desk.

Pig blood fat slut, the note read.

Well. That was some Shakespeare right there.

I couldn't help my snort. I crumpled the note easily, looking up in amusement.

Many faces were turned towards me now, and they all looked outraged at seeing that I obviously wasn't broken down and sobbing my heart out from their pathetic insult. It was truly ridiculous.

The message didn't even make sense. Such a note needed to be completely wiped out of existence.

Holding the gaze of one of the people currently staring angrily at me, I delicately placed the crumpled paper in my gaping mouth.

Then I chewed.

Over the years, I'd found little ways to take back the power from my bullies. Like the power to hurt me, which the note I'd been slipped was meant to do. By crumpling it up and then chomping on it, à la Lady Gaga, I had successfully taken the power back. It was mine now.

Mwahahahaha.

The guy's face purpled the more my jaw worked, which only increased my amusement. He probably wrote it, I thought, sitting back and smirking at him.

I'm the baaaad guy, I crooned in my head, feeling very proud of myself. As I continued to munch on the note, my gaze unwittingly wandered over to Rhys.

I stopped feeling myself rather abruptly.

His gaze was turned in my direction, with his chin resting on his propped fist. I stilled.

He was... staring right at me... while I chewed paper... in a distinctly phacochoerus fashion.

Nombre de Dios.

For a moment I could only stare, frozen, my mouth filled with half-chewed paper.

Then my throat involuntarily contracted, and I accidentally swallowed almost half of it.

Naturally, I started to choke.

I doubled over my desk, coughing and automatically trying to expel the foreign substance from my esophagus which had not been meant for eating in the first place.

I'm choking on the power! I'm choking ON THE POWER! The little people in my head were shrieking while running around in circles from pure panic. I almost laughed at the image, which was quite unacceptable at this moment.

Not helping! I told myself. Several heads were turning to stare at me. I didn't even want to imagine how I looked right then.

Grabbing control of my reflex, I forcefully inhaled through my nose while pressing my mouth closed. Then I heaved as hard as I could, and the ball of paper flew from my lips and landed on the floor somewhere in the front.

Shrinking down in my seat, I wished very hard for a portal to open up beneath me and transport me out of the class. Especially when I saw Mr. Graham eye the chewed-up thing that came out of my mouth with a lost expression on his face.

He looked up at me, concerned. "Are you okay, Miss Wolfe?" he asked tentatively.

He probably thought I was some sort of mental patient. I really couldn't call him wrong at this point.

"Yes," I responded meekly, my voice coming out scratchy.

Beside me, Aurora had turned in her seat to face me fully, looking very entertained. She'd probably seen the whole thing. I scowled down at my notebook, not wanting to make another spectacle of myself, and waited till I felt most of the stares turn away from me.

Then, very slowly, because I only seemed capable of making a complete fool of myself whenever I saw him look at me, I peeked in Rhys's direction. My heart pounded in my chest when our eyes met.

He hadn't looked away, and right then he didn't look bored at all. In fact, this was the first time since class started that his face bore an expression apart from numb detachment. And I'd put it there.

Unexpectedly, my anger surged. Found me interesting, did he? Maybe I should choke more often then.

I gave him the most blistering glare I could muster, then I turned back to my notebook with a huff. I thought I heard him chuckle, but I wasn't too sure.

Possible salvation or not, this guy was an asshole. Still, I found myself turning back to the page where I'd repeatedly scrawled his name, and crossing out every time I'd written down 'Rhyland' to replace it with 'Rhys'.