I had officially reached peak disaster in this draining place called a school.
Stella, Serena, Tiffany, and Vanessa had given me a "test"—one simple condition: do everything they said to prove I could be one of them.
I had yelled at teachers, tripped over trays in the cafeteria, and announced in the hallway that the principal was forgetful.
And yet… they were not impressed.
"Really?" Stella said, flipping her hair like it cost $10,000. "That's it?"
Serena snorted. "I expected… more. You tried, sure, but… pathetic."
Vanessa raised an eyebrow. "Honestly, I'm not sure you get it. This isn't just about making mistakes… it's about showing power. Confidence. Style. Grace."
Grace? I had spilled pudding on Tiffany's designer bag!
I looked at Maya, who had been silently standing beside me. She gave me a small, calm smile. "Aisha… it's okay. Their opinion doesn't define you."
I tried to nod, but all I could think about was the pool of humiliation I had created in the cafeteria, the hallway, and every classroom I had tripped into.
Stella rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Clearly, you're not ready to be like us. But… you might get something anyway."
I tilted my head, suspicious. "Something?"
Vanessa smirked. "A lesson. You can't fake this world, Aisha. You can't fake confidence. You can't fake charm. You can't fake power. And apparently, you can't fake loyalty."
I wanted to disappear. Literally. My stomach felt like someone had tied a rollercoaster inside it.
Maya's RescueAs I was about to run away from the rich-girl tribunal, Maya gently touched my arm.
"Breathe," she whispered. "It's okay to fail. God sees your heart, Aisha. He knows your effort, your kindness, and your courage. That's what matters."
Her words… actually helped. Just a little. I straightened my shoulders, wiped my pudding-stained hand, and tried to walk out with some dignity.
A Small VictoryEven though the rich girls looked at me like I was a clown, something had shifted. Somehow, failing their ridiculous test didn't feel like the end. Because… I had survived it. I had survived them. And Maya had reminded me that my worth didn't come from them.
As I walked down the hallway, tripping slightly over my own shoelace (let's be honest, I was Aisha), I felt a strange flutter of hope.
Maybe, just maybe… surviving Cedar Heights wasn't about impressing Stella and her squad. Maybe it was about surviving myself, my insecurities, and somehow… finding people who really mattered.