After listening to my first instinct, she drifted just a bit backward, eyes facing down. That should do it, I should be expecting bleeding nose. But I am not done punching her. I need to see all her teeth out. I pulled my arm back, ready for another hit, my shoulder tightening, my jaw locking so hard it hurt. I swung.
Before I knew it, her palm blocked my punch. Her fingers wrapped around my fist. She squeezed. So tight I could hear my knuckle bones crack, a dry sick sound that did not feel real until the pain followed. A sharp pain shot up my arm and I growled, the sound ripping out of me before I could swallow it back.
How the hell is this bitch so strong?
I tried to yank my hand back but nothing happened, her grip did not loosen, my wrist twisted in her hold and the pressure increased, slow and deliberate like she wanted me to feel every second of it. My fingers started to tingle, then burn. I could feel my pulse in my knuckles.
Her head had been down the whole time. Then she slowly raised it. The face from earlier had changed. The calm, polished look was gone. Her brown eyes were now glowing blue. Not bright like a light, not flashy, but deep and burning, like something alive was staring back at me from inside her. It was an angry stare, low and dangerous, the kind that makes your body react before your brain does. She growled at me.
The sound was not loud but it was enough. It vibrated through my chest, settled in my stomach, made my skin prickle. The air between us felt heavy, thick, like it had weight. And just like that, my strong aura vibe instantly changed into something smaller, like a puppy facing a wolf.
My throat went dry. My shoulders that had been squared a second ago felt stiff. For a minute there I was scared of the girl right in front of me. Actually scared, something unlike me.
My heartbeat stumbled, then raced. My breathing turned shallow and uneven. My body, which seconds ago was ready to attack again, felt frozen in place, like if I moved she would crush my bones completely. I have never felt this kind of feeling before.
"Princess, let the new student go," the teacher said.
Her eyes flickered at the sound of her name.
Immediately her expression changed, the blue disappeared, fading back into normal brown as if nothing strange had happened. Her face smoothed out, calm and controlled again. She released her grip.
My hand dropped to my side, numb at first, like it did not belong to me. Then the pain rushed in all at once. It throbbed, sharp and hot, spreading from my knuckles down to my wrist. Damn, my knuckles fucking hurt.
I flexed my fingers and winced, a small hiss slipping through my teeth. I was expecting her to feel pain.
But now I am the one in pain.
I held my hand close to my chest, rubbing it gently like that would fix it, like my palm could press the ache away. My fingers trembled slightly and I quickly curled them into a fist again so no one would notice.
I looked around the class. The whole class was staring at me, not curious, not neutral. Mean. Cold faces, folded arms, some whispering behind hands, some shaking their heads slowly. A girl near the window smirked. A boy in the front row leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowed at me like I had just committed a crime.
"Mr. Alonzo, I think the new transferred student needs a befitting, well mannered orientation. This omega is a wild kind and is not an Oakland High School worthy," she said.
Her voice was calm and controlled, smooth like she had not just almost crushed my bones. Not a crack in it. Not a hint of effort.
Who the fuck are you calling unworthy?
The words flew out before I could stop them.
"I said, who the fuck are you calling unworthy?" I repeated, still holding my hand, staring straight at her. My chest was rising fast but I forced my chin up. She folded her arms. Slowly. One brow lifted.
She did not need to raise her voice. She did not need to step closer. She just looked at me like I was something stuck to her shoe.
"Will you please behave yourself, Miss Grande," Mr. Alonzo said.
I turned to look at him. His face was unpleasant when he looked at me, lips pressed thin, eyes sharp.
Then he glanced at the black haired girl. And smiled. The change was so fast it made my stomach twist. His shoulders relaxed. His tone softened.
"Princess, I will give her an orientation and see to it that what happened today never repeats itself again. Please go back to your seat. And you, to the principal's office now."
Princess. The word echoed in my head, I didn't hear clearly at the first name.
Princess Kings.
Is she the Alpha princess? As in like an Alpha Alpha?
I was expecting someone taller, broader, someone built like power, someone you could see strength on before they even spoke. But she… Fuck.
This bitch is an Alpha!!.
The realization hit me harder than the pain in my hand. My thoughts replayed every second from earlier, the Chanel bag, the grip on my wrist, the glowing eyes.
I can't believe that I was going to make friends with the girl who flashed wealth on me. I can't believe I just punched her.
I walked out of the class with every eye still on my back, the door closing behind me with a soft click that felt louder than it should have.
Here I am again inside the principal's office. Not because I happen to be a new student. Not because I need any formalities signed.
But because I landed myself in big time detention. Good first day of school.
I sat in the hard chair, staring at the clock on the wall. The second hand ticked too loudly, each movement dragging. I shifted in my seat and my knuckles brushed against the armrest, sending another wave of pain up my arm. As if school was not already a prison itself, now I have to wait extra time after school.
All because I punched the Alpha princess.
After spending three hours watching documentary history on Oakland, how it became what it is today, my eyes felt dry and heavy. Even though the video was one hour and twenty minutes, the teacher still played it again until the detention was over.
I watched the same scenes twice.
Founders shaking hands.
Old black and white buildings. Talk about unity and legacy. Students smiling in slow motion.
My mind drifted in and out. Every time I blinked, I saw glowing blue eyes. I flexed my hand again and the dull ache reminded me this was real.
Finally I got to go home. First day. Bad impression. Got overpowered by an Alpha bitch who happens to be someone I should hate. I am not going to let this down.
Alpha or no Alpha, she is the girl who broke my phone and humiliated me by throwing Chanel back at me.
The school was scanty now, hallways quieter, lockers closed, fewer voices echoing. My shoes made soft sounds against the floor as I walked toward the gate, my bag feeling heavier than it did in the morning.
On my way out, I saw Malo sweeping the building. Isn't that something the school janitor should be doing?
"Hey," I said as I passed, heading towards the gate.
He whistled. A kind of whistle that felt like mocking. I stopped and turned to look at him.
"What was that for?"
"It's to congratulate you on becoming the fourth most popular person in the entire school," he said, using his leg to hold the broom and then proceeding to clap slowly.
His smile was wide, almost impressed.
"You really are amazing, freshwolf. You didn't become friends with Princess, but you happen to become an enemy. And an enemy of the Alpha princess is an enemy of the entire school."
"What are you talking about?"
"Oh look, didn't you see it on the school feeds today? The new omega challenged the Alpha princess," he said, showing me his phone. It looked like Instagram, but at the edge it was written Oakgram. Cut the chase. I was trendind. Everyone knows my name and my face. How did they even get my photo? My ID card. Of course.
My face stared back at me from the screen, the same awkward picture from this morning, now surrounded by comments and reactions.
I was popular, but not that kind of popularity where everybody knows you and praises you. The kind of hate. Hashtags stacked under my picture.
#the-no-one-most-hated-student-in-Oaklandhighschool
#the-outcast-challenged-the-Alphaprincess
#Strayomega
So many comments. Laughing emojis. Insults. Threats.
The nice students from earlier. Now typing venom behind screens. My chest felt tight. My fingers curled slowly at my sides.
"This can't be happening to me," I said.
"Yes, it is happening. And by tomorrow you are dead meat," Malo replied, his tone no longer playful. "I will just give you a good warning. Don't come to school tomorrow if you don't want to face the wrath of the Alpha princess and her sidekicks. FYI, your life is over."
He lowered the phone.
The screen went dark. Oh my God. Is my life really over?