Ira — POV
The first thing I notice about Orion High is that everyone already belongs somewhere.
Clusters of laughter. Familiar shoulders brushing past. Confidence that comes from history.
I step inside anyway.
My uniform sits neatly on me—white shirt crisp, blazer fitting close at the shoulders. My skirt sways just enough when I walk. My hair is tied low, a little messy, strands escaping near my face. I like it that way. Too-perfect invites questions.
Whispers follow.
Transfer student.
Confident.
Pretty.
I choose a seat near the middle and open my notebook, pretending the room doesn't exist.
Then I feel it.
Not sound.
Not movement.
A stare.
I look up.
A boy sits by the window, one leg stretched out, blazer open like rules don't apply to him. He's tall—effortlessly so. Dark hair falling slightly over his eyes, like he forgot to tame it this morning. His face is sharp, unreadable, carved with quiet arrogance.
He isn't staring directly.
He's studying me.
Like I'm an equation he didn't expect.
Our eyes meet.
Most people look away first.
He doesn't.
Neither do I.
I lift an eyebrow, slow and deliberate.
His jaw tightens—just a little.
Interesting.
I smile.
Not sweet.
Not friendly.
Calculated.
Something flickers in his eyes. Not interest.
Annoyance.
Good.
Kael — POV
She smiles like she knows something I don't.
That's when I realize she's trouble.
She doesn't fidget. Doesn't shrink. Sits like the classroom adjusted itself around her. Her eyes are sharp, observant—dark lashes, calm expression, lips pressed together as if she's always holding back a remark.
Confidence without apology.
I don't like it.
The teacher hands out test paper
Numbers don't lie.
Effort doesn't fail.
I've been rank one for three years.
Until—
"Rank one," the teacher says, glancing down the list, "Ira Mehta."
Silence.
My name isn't called.
A few gasps. Someone claps. Then more follow.
I don't move.
I look at her.
She doesn't celebrate. No grin. No victorious sigh. Just a quiet exhale, like she expected this outcome.
Then she looks at me.
Not smug.
Not sorry.
Curious.
Like she's finally matched a name to a reputation.
I lean back, arms crossing, expression unreadable.
Fine.
If she wants my place—
She can try to keep it.
Ira - POV
The teacher clears her throat.
"And rank two," she continues, "Kael Verma."
The name lands heavy.
Whispers erupt immediately.
Kael Verma…
The topper.
Finally dethroned.
I glance at the boy by the window again.
So that's his name.
Kael.
He meets my eyes once more—slow this time.
There's no challenge in his gaze.
Just a promise.