Evara Richards
"Eva, Evaa EVAAAA, WAKE UP!"
I groan as my phone vibrates violently next to my ear, Bella's high-pitched voice blaring from the other end.
"Are you seriously still in bed?"
"Mmm… let me be. Just five more minutes, Bella," I mumble, half asleep.
"It's 8:30 already! Get your ass out of bed and into the shower! I'll be back in 30 minutes."
Beep.
And just like that, sweet, sweet peace returns.
Except... something feels off.
And then it hits me.
TODAY. IS. MY. FIRST. DAY. AT. MY. NEW. SCHOOL.
Shit—I'm gonna be late!
I fly out of bed and rush to the bathroom. A warm shower is an absolute must even in crisis. Once I'm out, "Gimme More" by Britney Spears blasts through my speaker. Because if I'm going to be stressed, at least let it be with vibes.
I pull on my new uniform which fits like a glove, tame my curls, and reach for my favorite perfume.
That's when Bella appears behind me like a mom with a mission, glaring daggers through the mirror. I spin around, arms wide for an apology hug but she dodges it and yanks me straight to our shared kitchen. No forgiveness. Only pancakes. With strawberries, of course.
God, I love her.
She woke up early, went for a jog, made breakfast and is now going to drive us to our new school. Best friend? More like sister, mom, and guardian angel rolled into one. We gobble down our food and jump into her black Range Rover. Obviously, I am the passenger princess. Hehe.
After about 20 minutes of vibing and lowkey panicking, we finally pull up to the front gates of the dream school "Edelmare Academy". Like the school teens across the country would kill to get into.
"First day it is," Bella says, eyes fixed on the stunning building ahead. "Let's just make sure we don't get ourselves into anything messy here."
Classic big sister energy.
And I'm too distracted to even reply. This place is stunning. Who builds a school this beautiful? It looks more like a royal palace than an educational institution. No way am I ever skipping school if it means coming here every day.
Bella is just as starstruck as I am. Eventually, she pulls into the parking lot—a literal showroom of supercars. Yeah, no doubt about it. This is a school for elites.
Bella, of course, fits right in. She's basically the poster girl for "beauty and brains," an elite in every sense. She's also my best friend, my roommate, and right now my lifeline. Our parents are scattered across the globe, so in this strange new city of Rovania, we've only got each other.
And honestly? That's enough.
We've spent our whole lives tolerating each other thanks to our moms being best friends. Though my mom left us early, I always saw her in Bella's mom. It's not that we aren't enough for each other — we are —But we did promise ourselves: new year, new people, new connections. As close as we are, it's time to branch out. Make friends. Live a little.
Back to reality though aka the parking lot, where it's painfully clear that we're late. Like, "everyone's already in class" late. Thanks to yours truly.
Since we've got different majors, we split up quickly after collecting our schedules. Bella heads to her business studies lecture, and I race off toward my English class that starts at 9:30.
Spoiler alert: it's 9:35.
And this is Mr. David's class.
The infamous Mr. David. Word is he chews up students and spits out their GPAs for breakfast.
God, please, just this once…
Just as I'm sending my final desperate prayers, I reach the door and there he is. Mr. David, already walking toward me.
Not scared. Just... slightly nauseous. It's my first day. I can't afford to mess this up not when I got in here on a scholarship.
"What do you suppose the time is, Miss…?"
"Evara Richards."
"Yeah. Miss Richards. Does your watch perhaps tell you it's 9:20?"
"Umm… no, sir. But please, excuse me just this once," I say, unleashing full doe-eyed innocence.
Doesn't work.
"OUT."
The door slams in my face.
Welcome to Day One.
With nothing else to do, I try not to cry and pull out the school map behind my schedule. Might as well explore. Would've been better with a handsome guy giving me a tour, but nope everyone's in class. Am left with just me and my wounded pride.
I wander through the quiet corridors, past tall stained glass windows and shimmering chandeliers, until I find it— a gorgeous, serene fountain nestled in the center of the school's lush green lawns.
For a moment, everything's still.
And honestly? It's not a bad way to start.
Just as I'm about to head to the other side of the school, I notice smoke drifting from the left side of the corridor. According to the school map, that's supposed to be the sports room. Panic hits me, is the sports room on fire? I break into a run, heart racing.
But when I get there, I don't find chaos or flames swallowing the room. I find him.
Not just any guy—a ridiculously handsome, Greek god level male specimen leaning casually against the doorframe. He's staring at the floor, where a bag is, in fact, on fire. But my eyes? Yeah, they're nowhere near the fire.
All I can see is his perfectly sculpted face, those sharp cheekbones, that chiseled jaw, and his ridiculously well-proportioned body. I just stand there in front of him, frozen, blatantly staring.
"Quit staring," he says, his voice deep and smooth almost too perfect. Jet black hair. Golden brown eyes that lock with mine like they own the air between us.
God really took His time with this one. He's the kind of man every girl dreams about. Like someone pulled straight from a fantasy novel and dropped into real life.
And just as I'm caught in my silent awe, a second voice breaks through the haze.
"Who is she?"
Wow. Another handsome hunk. What is this, heaven? Did I die young and land in some elite afterlife?
This one's different, though. Bubblier. Messy, soft brown curls. Playful grey eyes. Not quite the Greek god, but definitely part of this school's elite roster of heartbreakers.
"These two are definitely this school's heartthrobs," I mutter under my breath, still dazed.
He doesn't even give me a second glance before replying to his friend with a 'who knows' look.
"Clean this up and meet me at the parking lot," says the Greek god aka my new crush to the curly haired guy. Then, without another glance, he disappears into the sports room.
The curly one casually picks up the half burnt bag with his bare hands like it's not still smoldering and drops it into the bin right beside me and drifts away.
Honestly, I'm a little disappointed. I barely saw anyone outside of class today, and the ones I did see just left. Not a single conversation in the past 20 minutes I spent wandering around alone, hurts my lonely soul.
I decide to follow the two lads and maybe start a conversation. But before I can do that, they're both nowhere to be seen. I check inside the sports room but in vain.
They were here just a moment ago. How did they vanish so fast?
While I'm lost in thought, someone bumps into me—hard.
"Ahh!" I stumble and fall.
"I'm so sorry, miss. Are you okay?" asks a sweet voice, offering me a hand. I take it and finally get back on my feet.
The person who helped me is a cute brunette girl with a guitar slung over her shoulder, and her notes are scattered all around us.
She checks if I'm hurt, "Yeah am fine." I reply and then she starts picking up her sheets. I help her out and notice the music notes are… different? Not the usual kind. They're written in a strange language, with symbols and markings in a deep crimson red.
I'm not exactly an expert, but thanks to Bella—my all rounder friend who also plays guitar, I can tell this isn't ordinary sheet music. Just as I'm about to peek at the rest of the pages, the girl quickly snatches them from my hands, looking tense. I'm not sure why.
She gathers her things in a hurry and runs off toward the left side of the sports room. In her rush, she drops her keychain.
I pick it up and smile. It has a picture of a puppy and a kid on it. Must be her childhood photo.
I run after her to return it, only to stop in my tracks, astonished by the view in front of me.
Five girls in pink are performing ballet. Through the huge transparent glass windows, their synchronized movements are so graceful it's like watching poetry in motion. I almost forget why I'm here.
Then I spot the girl again, slipping into the next room. I follow.
Inside, it's a room full of musical instruments. When she sees me, I simply hold out the keychain. She walks over, takes it with a quiet "thank you," and resumes organizing her scattered notes.
That's when I notice it, a small mole under her eye. Like a fairy's kiss.
She seems so quiet, so delicate. I decide to break the ice.
"Hey, I'm Evara, the new transfer student" I say.
She finally looks up, surprised that I'm still in the room. "Hi, Evara. Good to see you." That's it?
She's definitely the quiet type.
I walk closer, extend a hand, and ask, "And you are?"
She facepalms lightly, muttering to herself, "Where are your manners, Nyra?" Then says aloud, "I'm Nyra. Please excuse my impoliteness, my mind was preoccupied."
She's cute—talking to herself in third person like that. I think I just found a sweet new friend.
"Heyy, it's fine, no big deal. I'm just happy I finally found someone to talk to. I mean, I got kicked out of my very first class on my first day here."
She gives a tiny smile and asks why I was kicked out, and before I know it, I'm blabbering about the morning's embarrassment like a madwoman to someone I met five minutes ago.
Nyra listens patiently as I ramble, nodding quietly, her lips curved in that small, knowing smile people wear when they're used to others filling silences for them. When I finally stop to breathe, I realize how ridiculous I must sound.
"Sorry," I mutter, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "I tend to overtalk when I'm nervous. Or excited. Or both."
"It's okay," she says softly. "It's kind of refreshing."
Refreshing? That's a first.
Before I can decide whether to take that as a compliment or just neutral kindness, she adds, "Most people don't talk to me at all."
I blink. "Wait, seriously?"
She just nods, fiddling with one of her guitar strings.
"Well, they're missing out," I say, trying to sound cheerful. "You seem really cool."
Nyra gives me a look that says you're strange but maybe not in a bad way, and actually lets out a quiet laugh.
"I wouldn't say cool," she says. "I just… don't fit in with most people here."
"Guess we've got something in common then," I reply, smiling. "Outcasts unite?"
We share a brief moment of silence. Comfortable, this time.
Then, out of nowhere, a loud thud echoes from behind one of the closed doors on the far side of the room. Nyra tenses instantly. Her shoulders stiffen, and she turns toward the noise like she knows exactly what it is but doesn't want to deal with it.
I glance at her, eyebrows raised. "Should we… check that out?"
She hesitates. "No, it's nothing," she says a little too quickly. "Probably just the wind."
I raise an eyebrow. "A wind strong enough to knock something over indoors?"
She doesn't answer.
Suspicious? Yes. Intriguing? Absolutely.
Just as I'm about to ask more, a bell rings loudly through the halls, indicating the end of the first lecture and the beginning of a 15-minute break. Students start flooding out of classrooms and into the corridors outside.
Nyra takes a step back, clearly ready to disappear again. I'm not letting her go that easily.
"Hey, want to go to the cafeteria together?"
She pauses, surprised again. "You want me to join you?"
"Yes, of course! And later, we can walk out together after school ends as well."
I don't let her speak, I keep going. "I mean, I already see you as my friend, so… yeah."
She stands quietly, thinking about something.
"Unless you've got a secret teleportation ability like those two mysterious boys earlier," I tease.
Her lips twitch. "I could show you something… but not today."
That was unexpected.
"Okay," I say slowly. "But you will eventually, right?"
She nods. "If you're still talking to me by then."
"Oh, trust me. I'm not going anywhere," I grin.
As we walk out of the room together, I feel a strange sense of anticipation curling in my chest. Maybe this school year won't be as boring as I feared.
In fact, something tells me it's going to be wild.