Broken Boundaries

Chapter 7: The Tension For Attention

Celeste

Perseverance, eloquent, epiphany, ambiguous, resilience. I repeat the words out loud, trying to imprint them into my mind. The bench feels hard beneath me, but I don’t care; I need to nail this vocabulary for today's test. Kyomi sits beside me, crunching on a bag of chips, her eyes flicking between me and the paper in my hand.

"Can't you take a break during lunch?" she grumbles, crumbs dusting her lips.

"I have to score at least 70% today," I reply without looking up. The pressure settles heavily on my shoulders. "I still need to practice essay writing too. I have to give it my best."

She leans closer, a hint of concern in her voice. "Have you even slept since last night?"

I drop my gaze to the wrinkled paper. "It doesn’t matter," I mutter. "I want to surprise Mr. Dominic with a decent score for once."

Kyomi raises an eyebrow, popping another chip into her mouth. "Do you hate him that much? Everyone loves his teaching style."

"A lot of girls do," I admit, folding the paper in half. "They practically drool over him. Even some of the guys try to copy his hairstyle." I roll my eyes. "It’s pathetic."

"Really?" Kyomi tilts her head curiously. "I mean, he doesn’t teach my class, but I love how he smells. Like... heaven." Her eyes close as if she’s savoring the thought.

I nudge her with my elbow. "Using too much cologne to cover up body odor can actually backfire, you know. The scent mixes with the natural odor and it just becomes… unbearable." I emphasize my point, watching her expression shift. "Good hygiene is more important than perfume. I read that in my uncle's biology textbook."

She throws her hands up, chips and all. "Okay, okay. Good luck with your test," she says, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"Thanks," I mumble as the bell rings.

Back in class, I settle into my seat, stomach twisting. Mr. Dominic strides in and starts handing out the test papers. As he places mine on my desk, I feel his gaze linger, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. My throat tightens. I clutch my uniform collar, forcing myself to focus on the comprehension section. To my surprise, the answers flow more easily than usual.

Hayvin watches me from across the room, her stare heavy with curiosity. I don’t meet her gaze. After what feels like forever, the test is over, and Owen, the class rep, hands back our graded papers. I score 65%. Disappointment curls in my chest. The essay section drags my score down, as always.

Well, I tried.

I stuff the paper into my bag, ready to head to Mr. Dominic's lesson in the next classroom. But before I can make it out the door, Yara steps into my path, her lips stretched into a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

"Can I see you for a minute?" she asks, blinking like a puppy.

We’re the only two left in the classroom, and my stomach flips. I follow her to the storeroom behind our class. As soon as I step inside, the door slams shut, and an empty milk bottle flies at me, hitting my shoulder. I flinch, my eyes locking on Hayvin, who stands there with a sneer, the milk bottle still rolling on the floor.

Aria steps forward, her face twisted with something like anger—or maybe hurt. "You've been failing on purpose, haven’t you?"

I keep my face blank, refusing to give anything away. Yara crosses her arms, staring me down with this annoyed look.

"It’s so obvious. You're doing this for attention," she says, her voice dripping with disdain. "How are you acing every other subject except English?"

"I just…" I start, but Hayvin cuts me off, her voice sharp.

"You’re in love with Mr. Dominic, aren’t you?" she spits out.

My eyes widen, the accusation hanging heavy in the air. "What? No," I snap, shaking my head. "I hate him. He’s—"

"Then show it on your face!" Hayvin yells, her voice like thunder in the tiny room. "If you hate him like you say, then stop this charade!"

The words are barely out of her mouth when Yara lunges forward, her palm cracking across my cheek. The sting brings tears to my eyes, but I blink them away, rubbing my face as I stand back up. I didn’t know she hated me this much… I didn’t know any of them did.

I try to leave, but Aria shoves me back, and I stumble into a pile of old desks. "Where do you think you're going?" Her voice is low and dangerous. "You disgust me."

My uniform rips as they pull at it, and before I know it, I’m on the floor, blood trickling from a cut on my head. Yara stuffs a handkerchief under my nose, pressing down hard, and I feel the world spinning as I struggle to breathe.

"This is your last warning, Celeste," Hayvin whispers, her voice almost gentle now. "Stay away from him."

They leave, locking the door behind them, their footsteps echoing down the hall. My head feels heavy, my vision blurry as I try to crawl toward the window. I can’t breathe. My hands scrabble against the cold tiles, but every time I get up, I fall again.

I slump against the wall, my breaths shallow, vision dimming. The room is so quiet. Too quiet.

Then, I hear it—a faint sound, like footsteps approaching. Is someone coming? Or is this the end?