The teacher, distracted with his folder, spoke without looking up:
"Sit wherever you like, Ángel."
The classroom was neatly arranged in pairs of desks. A soft murmur rippled through the room: everyone was curious to see where the newcomer would land. Ester, brimming with confidence, smoothed her hair and flashed her most charming smile. The seat beside her was empty—her boyfriend had gone to a doctor's appointment that morning—and she was certain Ángel would choose it. She had already rehearsed what she called her "three foolproof steps": a flirty glance, a witty remark, and a casual brush of the hand.
But Ángel didn't glance at her. Not even once.
His eyes were already fixed elsewhere—sharp, unblinking, like a predator who has chosen his prey. In the back row sat Erika, hunched in on herself, shoulders caved, gaze glued to the floor as if making herself small could make her disappear.
The silence shattered with a sharp thud: clack! Ángel's books dropped onto the empty desk beside hers. Erika jumped, her heartbeat racing. The air grew heavy, as if everyone else in the room had ceased to exist.
Ángel sat down with unsettling calm, tilted his head slightly toward her, and with a smile as enigmatic as it was dangerous, whispered close to her ear:
"Now you can't escape me."
The tone was neither friendly nor casual. His voice carried both a promise and a threat, as if it weren't a person speaking but the shadow that had waited her whole life for the right moment to claim her.
Two rows ahead, Ester watched in disbelief. She couldn't understand why he had ignored her—why he had chosen Erika, of all people. Erika, meanwhile, felt a chill snake down her spine. She knew she should fear him… yet, against every instinct, she couldn't stop herself from being drawn to the abyss that had just opened beside her.
The tension in the room was thick enough to cut.
The teacher, absorbed in his history lesson, noticed nothing. To him, it was just another morning, just another restless class. What he didn't see was the silent battle burning in the glances exchanged behind his back.
Ester sat stiff in her chair. She had assumed—no, she had known—that the new boy would sit beside her. How could he not? It was the obvious choice: her, the perfect girl, the queen of the class. Tall, slender, with silky blond hair and ice-blue eyes that always got what they wanted. Her porcelain-like skin and polished smile could open any door. And of course, she had what most people only dreamed of: money. Plenty of it.
Erika, by contrast, was no one's competition. Short, with untamed black hair that never obeyed a brush, and light-brown eyes that rarely lifted from the ground. Her figure was plain, neither fat nor thin, nothing that drew attention. But what weighed most was her last name: her family worked for Ester's. That invisible mark made her "untouchable"—not out of respect, but because being close to her meant sharing her shadow. And no one at school wanted that.
Ester was charismatic, gifted, dazzling at every event. Erika was the gray girl, the one no one wanted near, the one who slipped by unnoticed… until Ángel arrived.
Ángel, with his elegant demeanor, designer watch, and expensive cologne that drifted through the rows, needed no introduction. It was obvious he came from wealth. From the moment he walked in, everyone knew he didn't belong there. And yet, he was—an aura of allure and menace surrounding him.
When he chose to sit by Erika, Ester's world cracked. The chatter of the girls around her died into an awkward silence. It couldn't be. She couldn't allow herself to be ignored. Yet there he was, leaning toward the invisible girl, smiling that strange smile heavy with something no one else could decipher.
Erika felt every eye in the room on her, but what pressed most was Ángel's nearness—the suffocating proximity that reeked of danger yet pinned her to her seat, unable to breathe normally.
The clock ticked toward the end of class. The teacher droned on, oblivious, while the weight in the room grew unbearable. Ester couldn't take it anymore. With a graceful sweep, she gathered her things and walked out without asking permission, as if the bell rang only for her. No one dared stop her; after all, everyone knew her father was a major benefactor of the university.
Ángel didn't spare her a glance. He remained beside Erika—too close, too invasive. She shrank smaller and smaller, silently praying for the bell to ring. When it finally did, Erika bolted upright. She packed her things in seconds, nearly fleeing her desk. She didn't speak, didn't look back; all she needed was air, distance, to disappear.
Ángel stayed seated, watching her leave with a half-smile. It wasn't true interest that kept him near her; it was amusement. He enjoyed seeing her tremble, watching her bite her lip like she wanted to vanish into the floor. A passing distraction. And when she was out of sight, truthfully, he forgot about her entirely.
Erika reached the cafeteria thinking she'd finally found relief. She sat alone at a distant table, hoping for a quiet meal. But peace didn't last long. Her nightmare was waiting.
Ester strode in, flawless as always, her high ponytail gleaming under the lights. She walked straight toward Erika, and with a sharp smack, dropped her tray onto the table in front of her. Her smile was radiant and cruel at once.
"Well, well… what a coincidence."
Without asking, Ester sat down, like a queen seizing the throne of someone unworthy. Erika barely lifted her eyes, already bracing for what was coming.
"Honestly, don't let it go to your head," Ester went on, her voice honeyed but poisoned. "Ángel sitting next to you doesn't mean a thing. Do you understand? Nothing. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."
Erika pressed her lips shut, silent.
Ester tilted her head, patronizing.
"He didn't notice you. He never will. You're invisible, Erika. No one here would dare get close to you, because if they do, they'll sink with you." She looked her over slowly, then added, each word deliberate, meant to etch itself into her skin: "You're the daughter of my family's employees. And that's all you'll ever be."
She let out a short, cruel laugh, tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear with perfect precision, and added:
"Remember your place."
Then she rose, leaving behind her expensive perfume and the certainty she had achieved her purpose. Erika remained frozen in her seat, heart in her throat, feeling as though the ground beneath her had narrowed to the edge of nothingness.