Eri's P.O.V.
"A pleasant morning, sir. Sorry we're late," said Fasely.
All attention immediately turned to us. Everyone — our future classmates — were staring and whispering. Probably because of Fasely. Even our male teacher… the way he looked at her was just... sticky.
"She's so pretty, it's making me insecure." "You said it. And she's tall too. She's the complete package." "She looks like a model." "I think I'll try to court her, bro." "Hey, you already have Anna, bro! I'll do it instead!"
Even guys who already had girlfriends wanted to court her? What's wrong with their brains? What would their girlfriends say if they heard that?
But I also knew that some of the whispers were about me.
"Wait, what's up with her hair?" "First day of school and she already has a minor offense. She's really something." "The nerve of her. And she looks like a transferee, too." "Yeah, I agree."
Despite their insults, I ignored them.
"It's okay," our teacher said. "But please introduce yourselves. Are you transferees? Because if you're old students, I would surely know you." He flashed a wide smile.
We walked to the front, and Fasely stepped forward to introduce herself first.
"Hi everyone. I'm Sachina Fasely F. Anderson. I'd prefer you call me by my second name. I'm 17 years old and a transferee from Maria Clara National High School."
And once again, the whispers started.
"Anderson? How are you related to Mr. Frederick Anderson?" asked our teacher.
"He's my dad, sir," Fasely answered.
"OMG, she's a big deal." "That means she's the heiress of Anderson Company?" "No wonder she's gorgeous. Her sister is that famous model, Francheska Anderson."
"Is that so, Ms. Anderson? Anyone who wants to ask Ms. Anderson about herself?"
Almost every single guy in the room raised their hand.
"Okay, you at the back."
"Uhm… are you still single?"
"OHHHHHH!" "That's my boy!" "He's shooting his shot already!"
The guys all cheered and teased.
"Yes. But not available," she replied.
"Awwww…" they groaned in disappointment.
"Any other questions?"
"Even if you're not available, if I court you, I'm sure I can make your heart flutter!"
"BROOO! EYEEEE!"
"What's your favorite flower?" "Favorite color?" "Ideal date?"
"Stop it, boys! Maybe you should just ask for Ms. Anderson's social media instead."
Everyone laughed.
"Next, your turn, miss," the teacher said, but I noticed the way he gave me a judging look — eyes going straight to my head.
He didn't notice me earlier because he was too busy drooling over Fasely. I bet he's going to be one of the first people to send her a friend request later.
So I stepped forward and introduced myself.
"Hi, my name is Erina Arceneaux. Eri for short. I'm 16 years old and also a transferee from Maria Clara National High School."
"So, anyone have a question for Miss…?" our teacher asked.
"Arceneaux," I added, completing his sentence.
Maybe he didn't hear me clearly the first time. Or maybe my surname really is hard to pronounce.
Nobody raised their hand — except for one girl. Her makeup was caked on so thick, and she had so many accessories, it looked like she was heading to a gala night. And, of course, she had a whole entourage with her.
"Yes, Ms. Yeban?" the teacher called on her.
"According to school rules, under minor offenses, any type of hair dyeing or coloring is prohibited unless you're a senior high school or a college student. So why did you come here with your hair colored? I'm sure the registration staff told you that. And every new or transferee student gets a rule book. Care to explain, Miss Arse—?"
"Arceneaux," I corrected, since, like him, she couldn't say it properly.
"Whatever. So, explain." She even sat down dramatically, like she was the queen.
"Thank you for that question, Ms. Yeban. Earlier, when I stepped on this campus, I noticed that students were talking about my hair color. Just like you all, they judged me for supposedly committing a minor offense on my very first day. But I think we should know the whole story first — because what you see is completely natural."
The murmuring around the room got even louder.
"Is she serious?" "She's probably lying. And it's not like being brunette suits her." "If it were Ms. Anderson, maybe I'd believe it. They have Australian blood." "Yeah, totally agree, girl."
"Quiet!" our teacher snapped. "To clear things up, Miss," he walked over to me, "can you please show us your proof of natural hair color? Every student with distinguished natural hair is issued one."
I nodded and quickly opened my bag to search for the paper.
Wait, did I forget to bring it?
I grabbed a piece of paper tucked into my notebook and handed it to him. He read it and showed it to the class.
"Listen up, everyone. This paper confirms that Miss —"
"Arceneaux," I chimed in again.
"Yes — was born with naturally brown hair. Therefore, she has not committed any offense on her first day. Are we clear?"
The class buzzed with whispers again. And that Ms. Yeban, who tried to humiliate me earlier, looked like someone had poured ice water over her head.
"Her hair really is naturally brown. So pretty." "Maybe she has foreign blood, given how unique her last name is." "Agree, girl."
"Silence!" the teacher said again, even tapping the board for emphasis.
"You may take your seats, girls."
"Thank you, sir," Fasely and I replied in unison.
We walked to two seats at the back, on the far right, third row.
"Okay, for those who don't know me, I'm Darry Prudente, your math teacher. And we're going to start our first new lesson for your last year in junior high school."
Earlier, my classmates were all curious and noisy. Now they all looked lifeless. Who wouldn't be, with math as the first subject? Even the gorgeous girl beside me looked drained.
"When will math subjects finally disappear?" she whispered sadly.
At least now everyone knew the truth about my hair. I really hate being the center of attention. I don't like being talked about, whether it's good or bad.
My only problem now is that broken headphone from earlier.
I thought that guy was a friend of Fasely's. Good thing I ended up there and helped him out with his problem.
But what was he doing there if he wasn't looking for that guy?
I'll just think about that later.
What I really need to focus on now is the headphone. Yes, that.
I should've told him I'd return it tomorrow. It's annoying, but I have to leave later to get it fixed.