Luelle
The sun had just begun to crest the horizon as Luelle Stone pedalled down the quiet suburban streets, her legs moving in steady rhythm. The old bicycle squeaked faintly with every turn of the wheels; its once-bright paint faded to a dull green.
She slowed to a stop just outside the towering gates of Mountain High Academy, dismounting gracefully and securing the bike in the rack near the entrance. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed the plain skirt of her uniform and adjusted the thick-framed glasses perched on her nose. The glasses were fake, of course—just like the uneven braid that tamed her radiant golden hair and the concealer that dulled her flawless complexion. This disguise, carefully crafted, was her father's idea. "Blend in," he had said, his voice carrying the weight of an order. "No one must know who you are."
As she walked toward the school gates, the murmur of voices buzzed louder. Some students glanced her way, but their curiosity faded quickly. Perfect. It meant her disguise was working. She kept her head down, clutching the straps of her bag as though she were just another shy first-year student.
Then she saw him.
Ethan Frost stood near the fountain in the courtyard, surrounded by his usual entourage. Tall, composed, and effortlessly confident, he was every inch the leader-in-waiting of the Frost family's empire. His laughter was genuine, his charm magnetic, and for just a moment, Luelle forgot to breathe. She had memorized his every feature from afar but seeing him in the flesh was an entirely different experience.
She forced herself to look away, her heart pounding. In her world, emotions like this were a weakness, a liability. Yet here she was, already struggling to suppress the flush rising in her cheeks.
"Focus", Luelle, she reminded herself, her father's voice intertwining with her own. This was just another mission—a mission she couldn't afford to fail.
Luelle adjusted the strap of her backpack as she stepped into the school building, her eyes scanning for the classroom indicated on her schedule. She barely noticed the buzz of voices and the clatter of lockers around her. Focus, she reminded herself, clinging to the mantra like a shield against her nerves. Ethan Frost's image lingered at the edge of her mind, but she pushed it aside. This was no time to lose sight of her mission.
Suddenly, her shoulder collided with someone's arm, sending her stumbling slightly. "Oh, sorry!" Luelle said quickly, looking up. A boy about her age stood before her, steadying a notebook that had almost slipped from his grasp.
"Whoa, you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with mild concern. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and his backpack hung loosely over one shoulder.
"Yes, I'm fine," Luelle replied, lowering her gaze for a moment as she adjusted the strap of her bag. She glanced up, trying to gauge whether her disguise had attracted any unwanted attention.
The boy studied her briefly, then smiled. "First day, huh? You look a little lost."
Luelle hesitated before nodding. "Yeah, I'm new here."
"Figures," he said with a small chuckle. "Where are you headed?"
"Room 212. English Literature," she answered cautiously, clutching her schedule tightly.
His eyebrows shot up, and his grin widened. "No way. That's my class too! Looks like we're classmates."
Luelle blinked in surprise, unsure how to respond. Her training hadn't prepared her for this kind of interaction—not in such a casual, unguarded setting.
"Come on, I'll Walk with you," the boy said, motioning toward the hallway. "Name's James, by the way."
"Luelle," she replied softly, falling into step beside him.
"Nice to meet you, Luelle," James said with an easy smile. "You picked an interesting day to start here. Mondays are chaos."
She managed a faint smile, unsure whether to laugh or remain neutral. "Thanks for the warning."
James gestured to the bustling hallway ahead. "Don't sweat it. Stick with me; I'll help you survive the chaos. Room 212's just down this way."
As they walked, Luelle couldn't help but feel a pang of tension mingled with curiosity. James seemed friendly, almost too friendly, and his relaxed attitude stood in stark contrast to the controlled, calculated world she was used to. Could she trust him, even as a school acquaintance? For now, blending in was her priority, and so she followed his lead.
The classroom buzzes with the soft chatter of students, their voices blending with the faint scrape of chairs on the tiled floor. As Luelle steps inside, her eyes sweep across the rows of desks, the faint smell of chalk and paper teasing her senses. The sunlight filters through half-open blinds, casting streaks of light on the walls adorned with colorful posters—facts about the solar system, motivational quotes, and a world map that seems to dare her to dream of far-off places.
Her footsteps falter for a moment, the sense of unfamiliarity settling on her shoulders like a weight. It is so different from what she was used to. Home schooling, strict tutors, subjects that were covered far above her supposed grade level.
Luelle's fingers tighten slightly around the strap of her bag as she navigates this strange new terrain. Within her unease lies a flicker of curiosity, a silent hope that this space, foreign as it seems, might become something meaningful—maybe even a place where she belongs. She wonders about these people, their stories, and how hers might eventually intertwine with theirs.
She took a deep breath and moved towards an empty desk near the window, her mind racing with thoughts of what the day might hold. James offered her a reassuring nod as he settled into his own seat a few rows away. The chatter gradually subsided as the teacher cleared her throat and began to speak.
"Good morning, everyone. I hope you all had a restful weekend," she said, her voice carrying a blend of warmth and authority. "Today, we are going to delve into the fascinating world of English literature."
As the teacher began her lesson, Luelle found herself slowly relaxing, her initial tension easing with each passing minute. She made a mental note to thank James later for his kindness—it wasn't often she found someone willing to guide her through the chaos of a new environment. For now, she focused on the lesson, eager to soak in every detail and perhaps find her own place in this vibrant new world.
The lesson on English literature progressed, and soon the teacher announced, "It's time for some group work. Let's get into pairs or trios and discuss the themes of the chapter we just read."
James caught Luelle's eye and nodded towards the empty desk beside him. "Why don't we team up?" he suggested, his smile reassuring.
As Luelle made her way to James's desk, she noticed a girl with strikingly bright blue eyes and auburn hair approaching them. She carried herself with an air of quiet confidence, her steps measured and purposeful.
"Mind if I join you?" the girl asked, her voice soft but clear.
James grinned. "Of course, Aria. The more, the merrier."
Luelle couldn't help but feel a wave of relief. Aria's presence seemed to bring a sense of balance to their group. As they settled into their seats, Luelle introduced herself, and Aria's eyes lit up with genuine interest.
"Nice to meet you, Luelle. I'm Aria," she said warmly. "I've been in this class for a while now, and I can tell you, James is one of the best people to have by your side in group work."
James chuckled lightly, "Thanks, Aria. Let's get started, shall we?"
The trio dived into the discussion, their conversation flowing effortlessly. Aria's insights were sharp and well-articulated, revealing her passion for literature. Luelle contributed her own thoughts, all though she holds back, the subject easy comparing to her previous schooling, and James skilfully guided their dialogue, ensuring everyone's voice was heard.
As they worked together, Luelle felt the initial tension of the morning dissolve completely. She found herself laughing at James's witty remarks and engaging in thoughtful debates with Aria. The classroom, once foreign and daunting, began to feel like a space where she could belong.
As the bell rang, signalling the end of the period, Luelle knew she had found something precious in this new world—hope and the promise of friendship.
"Hey Luelle," James called out as they packed their belongings. "Want to join us in the cafeteria for lunch?"
Aria nodded enthusiastically, "Yes, come with us! It's a great place to relax and chat."
Luelle smiled, touched by their invitation. "I'd love to," she said, feeling a warmth spread through her heart.
The three of them made their way to the bustling cafeteria, filled with students chatting, laughing and enjoying their break. The aroma of freshly cooked meals wafted through the air, mingling with the sound of clattering trays and cheerful conversations.
As they entered, James pointed toward a cozy corner with comfortable seating. "Let's grab that spot before someone else does."
They settled into their seats, continuing their lively discussion from the classroom. Luelle felt herself becoming more at ease, enjoying the friendly atmosphere and the vibrant energy around her.
Aria is mid-sentence, recounting a humorous story about a teacher's mismatched socks, when Luelle's attention is drawn to a tall figure weaving confidently through the maze of tables. She notices as heads turn as the senior approaches, his stride casual yet purposeful.
"Aria," he calls out warmly, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. He's broad-shouldered, with an air of effortless cool that commands attention. As he stops by their table, his gaze flickers briefly to James and then to Luelle, his eyes sharp but not unkind.
"Luelle, this is my brother, Rowan," Aria says, her tone a mix of affection and exasperation. "Rowan, this is Luelle. She's new."
Rowan's eyes linger on Luelle for a moment, taking in her quiet demeanor and the faint uncertainty she hasn't quite managed to shake off yet. "Welcome to the madness," he says with a lopsided grin. "I hope my sister don't scare you off with her dramatics."
Aria rolls her eyes. "Oh, please."
Rowan's introduction is cut short by the arrival of another figure, tall and composed, his presence shifting the dynamic of the group instantly. Ethan doesn't say a word, his sharp gaze flickering briefly over the table before settling on Rowan, a silent indication that he's waiting. His confidence is effortless, an aura that seems to both command and repel attention, and he remains indifferent to the students around him.
Luelle's breath catches slightly as she glances up at Ethan. She's seen him from afar countless times, but standing this close, she feels a subtle shift in the air. Her heart beats a little faster, though she keeps her expression neutral.
Ethan's indifference is like a wall, and it reminds her of a stark truth that stings: he doesn't even know she exists. Yet, even in his silence, there's a magnetism she can't ignore, a pull that has lingered in her since she was old enough to even dream of someone like him. A crush that once felt so distant is now a knot in her chest, heavy and undeniable.
Luelle remembers the times she secretly watched him, hidden from view while he visited the home she grew up in with his parents. She was never allowed to show herself, her existence a secret to the world.
Rowan glances at Ethan, arching an eyebrow. "You could at least say hi," he mutters before turning back to Aria, picking up their conversation where they left off. Ethan doesn't respond, his patience thin but restrained as he waits.
Luelle's gaze falters, dropping to the table as she tries to steady her breathing, hoping her nervousness isn't as obvious as it feels. James, oblivious, nudges her lightly. "Don't worry. He's like that with everyone," he says under his breath, a grin playing at his lips, as if to comfort her.
Ethan PoV
Ethan Lock leaned casually against the school's main gate, laughing at something one of his friends had said. His voice carried easily over the hum of students arriving, blending seamlessly with the chatter that filled the crisp morning air. He exuded his usual air of effortless confidence—an anchor in the social dynamics of Mountain High Academy. People gravitated toward him without hesitation, and he welcomed it with the kind of ease that had become second nature.
Ethan glanced toward the bike racks as a faint squeak caught his attention. A girl dismounted, her movements fluid but understated. Her cap hid most of her features, and she wore glasses that seemed a little too big for her face. She wasn't trying to stand out—on the contrary, she seemed intent on blending into the background. New girl, Ethan noted absently, dismissing the thought as quickly as it came. But there was something about her that lingered in his mind, a flicker of curiosity he couldn't quite shake off.
"Earth to Ethan," his friend Rowan quipped, nudging him lightly on the arm. Ethan smirked, shaking off the fleeting distraction and returning to the rhythm of the morning.
The rest of the day passed in its usual cadence. Classes were easy enough to coast through; teachers rarely pushed him, and students often flocked to his side during group activities. By the time lunch rolled around, he was craving a break from the social performance he so effortlessly maintained.
Ethan scanned the courtyard, searching for Rowan. His friend's sharp wit and unfiltered honesty always made for a refreshing change from the constant admiration of others. His gaze settled on a table tucked under the shade of a tree, where Rowan stand chatting with his younger sister.
But it wasn't Rowan or his sister who caught Ethan's attention—it was the girl sitting across from them. The new girl. Her glasses and modest demeanour were unmistakable. She sat quietly as James, another tablemate, rattled off some story with exaggerated hand gestures. She barely said a word, but Ethan noticed the faint curve of her lips—an amused smile she was trying to hide.
She's not worth it, Ethan reminded himself, turning his attention back to Rowan. Mountain High had a hierarchy, unspoken but ironclad, and this girl wasn't even on the radar. Still, a small, inexplicable part of him lingered on her presence, a flicker of curiosity he quickly shoved aside. With the ease of someone who never doubted their place, Ethan strode toward the table, his focus fixed solely on Rowan.
"You could at least say hi," Rowan says. Ethan's jaw tightened ever so slightly at Rowan's remark. Say hi? Really? Rowan might've meant well—or maybe he was just teasing—but either way, Ethan wasn't in the mood for small talk.
His eyes flicked briefly toward the new girl, Luelle, sitting quietly beside James at the table. She didn't even glance his way, completely absorbed in whatever mundane topic James was going on about. Her demeanour was unremarkable, and yet, there was something almost calculated about how she sat there—like she was too perfectly blending into the background. That thought irritated him more than it should have. Maybe it was just the way she seemed indifferent to everything, a stark contrast to the energy buzzing around her. Ethan's lips pressed into a thin line. She wasn't worth his attention. He had other priorities—things far more important than indulging in introductions or pleasantries.
Still, Rowan's words lingered in his mind, scratching at the edge of his composure. Why should I say hi? He didn't owe anyone a polite gesture, least of all someone he'd already decided didn't matter. And yet, despite himself, he found his gaze drifting toward her again.
"Don't worry. He's like that with everyone." He hears James say.
What's that supposed to mean? The remark wasn't directed at him, but it pricked at Ethan's carefully maintained composure. It was so casual, so dismissive—as though James had boiled him down to a predictable behaviour, a trait that could be summarized and shared without a second thought. Ethan's confidence was rooted in his control, in the way he commanded respect without asking for it. Yet this—this felt like an invitation to be dissected.
His gaze flicked to James for an instant, and then to the girl seated beside him. Luelle Stone, the new arrival. She wasn't worth his attention—he'd decided that already—but now her presence felt oddly significant. There was a quietness about her, a self-possession that made James's camaraderie all the more jarring. She shouldn't fit here, and yet she did. Ethan couldn't quite explain why it bothered him.
He's like that with everyone. The phrase echoed again in his mind. Was James trying to make her comfortable, or did he genuinely see Ethan as some kind of universal constant? Either way, the irritation was sharp, almost unwelcome. He adjusted his stance, smoothing the edges of his expression.
There was nothing to address. Nothing worth acknowledging. Ethan's focus narrowed back to Rowan, his impatience now tempered by the faintest thread of intrigue he refused to indulge.