Chapter 10

The morning unfolded with a series of sensations that danced through my senses. I awoke with a slight wave of nausea clinging to me, a reminder that my stomach was on a quest for sustenance. Simultaneously, hunger growled within, signaling the need for fuel. Today was the pivotal day that had long hovered on the horizon—a day that carried with it the promise of transformation. It marked my entrance into the renowned Elite High School, a place rumored to hold the power to redefine destinies for the better.

In the quiet of my room, a familiar melody pierced the stillness. The opening strains of "Save Me" by BTS spilled from my lips as if on impulse, the lyrics capturing the unspoken emotions that swirled within me. Music had always been my sanctuary, a faithful companion that offered solace when words failed.

Drawn by the song's cadence, I embarked on the familiar ritual of awakening. My bathroom beckoned, offering a haven of purification and renewal. Shedding the constraints of clothing, I stepped into the sanctuary of the shower, the warm water cascading over me like a gentle embrace. I closed my eyes, allowing the sensation to wash away the lingering unease.

Yet, amidst the soothing deluge, my thoughts persisted in wandering back to an enigmatic encounter from the day before. The memory of the guy who had offered to drop me home remained etched in my mind like an indelible ink stain. His lips, sensually parting, and that sly, self-assured smirk played on a loop in my thoughts, an enigmatic puzzle I couldn't help but unravel.

An unexpected slap against my cheek snapped me from my reverie, my own hand meting out the punishment as if to chastise my wandering mind. "What's wrong with me?" I muttered, the sting of the self-inflicted blows a stark reminder that I needed to regain control over my thoughts.

Though I was relieved that I wouldn't be encountering the enigmatic stranger again, a nagging question persisted: What were the odds of our paths crossing on this momentous day? "Zero," I declared with newfound determination, shoving aside the relentless stream of conjecture to concentrate on the practical task at hand—washing my hair.

Minutes slid by, each drop of water a salve for the tumultuous thoughts that had plagued me. Eventually, I emerged from my personal sanctuary, my body feeling refreshed and renewed. Inspired by the significance of the day, I decided to break away from the mundane and embark on a mini beauty transformation. My hair, habitually tamed in a bun, underwent a metamorphosis. Armed with a straightener and a curling iron, I coaxed my locks into a new, captivating style.

The allure of change held me captive. This was my opportunity for a fresh start, symbolized by the metamorphosis of my appearance. Today was about a new school and a new look to match.

With preparations concluded, I descended the staircase, my anticipation mounting. What awaited me in the heart of the house was a delightful surprise. My father stood near the dining table, and a veritable feast encircled him, a bountiful spread that rivaled the offerings of a five-star breakfast buffet.

"Oh my goodness, Father!" I couldn't contain my excitement, dashing towards him with an effervescent smile illuminating my face.

"Good morning, my beautiful daughter," he greeted me, his eyes mirroring my infectious enthusiasm.

"Good morning, Father. I see you've outdone yourself with breakfast," I remarked, my gaze fixated on the tantalizing pancakes glistening with cascading maple syrup, a sight that summoned irresistible temptation.

Unable to resist, I scooped a dollop of whipped cream onto my finger, savoring its sugary sweetness. "Delicious," I declared, nodding in approval.

"Shall we have breakfast?" My father suggested, taking his seat at the table. I joined him eagerly, the anticipation of this morning feast palpable.

I seized a pancake, the sensation of each bite an exquisite delight. "This is truly amazing," I complimented my father's culinary prowess, earning a warm smile in response.

"Is it that good?" My father chuckled, finding amusement in my unbridled enthusiasm.

"Yes, it's absolutely divine," I mumbled, my words almost unintelligible with a mouthful of food. My father, ever the vigilant parent, gently admonished me to refrain from talking with my mouth full.

Complying with a slow nod, I redirected my focus to the bacon on my plate. With deft precision, I skewered a strip and savored the smoky, savory flavor. Moments later, our breakfast was concluded, and I gathered the dishes, prepared to tackle the task of washing them.

Yet, even in the midst of this ordinary chore, my father, attuned to every nuance of my being, intervened with an inquisitive glance. "Are you forgetting something?" he inquired, his gaze tinged with curiosity and mild amusement.

My confusion deepened as I struggled to decipher his enigmatic remark. "What are you talking about, Father?" I questioned, bewildered by his cryptic statement.

A subtle shift in his demeanor hinted at the underlying sentiment. "Today marks your inaugural day at your new school, and you're contemplating tardiness?" His voice, tinged with exasperation, conveyed the unmistakable undertone of a father's concern.

It was then that the realization hit me like a lightning bolt. The prospect of attending a new school had momentarily slipped my mind in the whirlwind of morning rituals. A familiar unease gnawed at me—I had always detested new environments and the prospect of encountering unfamiliar faces.

"Do I really have to go?" I whimpered, clinging to the last vestiges of hope that I could somehow escape this intimidating transition.

In response, my father, drawing upon his supernatural strength, seized the collar of my uniform and effortlessly lifted me off the ground. My legs flailed helplessly in mid-air as I dangled there, akin to a marionette in the grasp of its puppeteer.

"Father, what on earth are you doing? Put me down!" I implored, my legs kicking aimlessly.

With a swift motion, my father flung the door wide open, and I found myself expelled into the world. By some stroke of luck, I managed to land gracefully on my feet, determined not to sully the pristine condition of my beautiful uniform.

"Father, you could have injured me!" I scolded him from outside the house.

He responded with an unsettling nonchalance. "Well, I'm delighted you remain unscathed, and it appears you've learned how to land on your feet when subjected to the whims of the elite." His words elicited a frown, for how could he jest about tossing me into the air as he had?

"Father…" I began, intending to convey my grievances, but he abruptly ended the conversation by tossing my school bag in my direction. Instinctively, I sprang into action, catching it with remarkable agility.

"Most impressive," he acknowledged, flashing me a proud smile before sealing the door shut, leaving me fuming on the doorstep.

I trudged toward the bus stop, my footsteps heavy with frustration and reluctance. It was there, amidst a sea of fellow commuters, that a realization struck me with the force of a revelation. I had failed to acquire the essential knowledge I needed: the school's address. As minutes ticked away, my unease swelled like a looming storm. I was adrift in an unfamiliar sea, and the looming presence of Elite High School remained an enigmatic destination, tantalizing yet elusive.

While I stood at the bus stop, waiting for a lifeline to my destination, I became acutely aware of the scrutiny surrounding me. Whispers and sidelong glances painted me as an unwitting focal point of curiosity. My appearance, perhaps a reflection of my newfound determination for change, had evidently drawn more attention than I anticipated. Though accustomed to second glances, this level of attention felt different—a mixture of fascination and surprise.

"What?" I sneered defiantly at a girl nearby, who had been unabashedly staring. Caught in the act, she lowered her gaze, her cheeks tinted with a hint of embarrassment, and offered a quick apology before retreating. The peculiar exchange left me perplexed, wondering what had prompted her to apologize.

As I pondered the bizarre social dynamics unfolding around me, the need for immediate action became undeniable. It was clear that I couldn't rely on the bus to lead me to my destination without knowing where that destination was. I fumbled for my phone, intent on calling my father to request the crucial address.

However, just as my fingers grazed the screen, fate intervened with startling swiftness. A car screeched to an abrupt halt in front of me, causing me to stumble back in alarm, fearing an imminent collision. "What the hell?" I exclaimed, my heart pounding with adrenaline as I grappled with the sheer audacity of the driver's reckless maneuver.

The window of the car slid down with a hiss, revealing the identity of the driver—an enigma that had, until now, occupied my thoughts. It was him—the same enigmatic guy who had dropped me home the previous day. My mouth hung open in astonishment at this unexpected turn of events.

"You!" I exclaimed, the word escaping my lips as I was totally shocked.