The disciplinary office smelled faintly of old books and lemon disinfectant. As Selene stepped inside, the first thing she saw was a woman in her mid-forties seated behind a large wooden desk. She wore spectacles perched on the bridge of her nose and had her hair tied up in a severe bun. Her eyes were sharp, scanning Selene like a hawk evaluating its prey.
"Miss Parker, you were supposed to be here yesterday," the woman said without looking away from her papers. "I was waiting, but not a single Ms. Parker arrived at my door."
Shoot, Selene cursed in her head. She cleared her throat and forced a polite smile.
"I'm so sorry, Mrs—"
"It’s Miss,” the woman corrected sharply, finally looking up. “Miss Ramos.”
Selene blinked. “Oh. I’m so sorry, Miss Ramos. I really tried to find the office yesterday, but believe it or not, every student I asked either cursed me or walked away without saying a word. Someone did give me a hint, but I misunderstood what he meant.”
Miss Ramos didn’t seem impressed. “Whatever. I’ll consider it—just this once—since you’re new here. But seriously, Miss Parker… on your first day, and you’re already making trouble?”
Selene straightened her back. Her shoulders squared. “I didn’t start any trouble. I was trying to avoid it, honestly.”
Miss Ramos sighed like she’d heard the excuse a hundred times. “Of course you’d say that. They all do.” She pulled open a drawer and took out a yellow file. “Look, I’m giving you an official warning. You better thank your family for it. If not for that massive donation project they’re sponsoring, you probably wouldn’t even be here—especially not without using your last name.”
Selene bit her tongue. Her family’s influence—it always came back to that. She didn’t want special treatment, but she couldn’t stop people from assuming she did. She nodded quietly, trying not to let the frustration show.
“This will be your last free pass,” Miss Ramos added, pulling out a thick, bound handbook with the school logo embossed on its cover. “This is Hillwood’s rulebook. Read it. Memorize it. Hillwood is not like other schools where students can run wild. Misconduct here has consequences. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Miss. Perfectly clear,” Selene said, taking the handbook with both hands.
Miss Ramos waved her hand dismissively. “Now off you go.”
Selene turned and stepped out of the office, only to immediately be met with someone waiting outside. Leaning casually against the wall, handkerchief pressed against his nose, was none other than Sebastian Ford. His left nostril was still bleeding slightly, and his bruised ego was written all over his scowling face.
“You bitch,” he snapped the moment he saw her. “What did you tell the guidance counselor?”
Selene didn’t flinch. “I don’t think I need to report everything I did today to you, Mr. Ford.”
She walked past him like he wasn’t even worth the dust on her shoes. But she wasn’t surprised when she heard the echo of his footsteps behind her.
“Hey, bitch!” he called again.
Selene stopped, spun around, and glared at him. “Will you please leave me alone?”
But of course, he didn’t. He kept trailing her like some petty shadow, muttering curses under his breath.
Enough.
Selene reached into her pocket and pulled out the crumpled $300 Sebastian had given her the day before. She turned around and extended it toward him.
“Here. Take your money back. I didn’t ask for it, and I don’t need it.”
He sneered but didn’t reach for it.
“Fine,” she muttered, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
She turned on her heel and headed toward the cafeteria. It was just starting to fill up for lunch, the clatter of trays and hum of conversation already buzzing in the air.
At the counter near the dessert fridge, she approached the cashier—a middle-aged woman wiping her hands with a towel.
“Hi, excuse me,” Selene said, sweetness dripping from her voice. “That guy over there—Sebastian Ford—would like to treat all the students lining up for lunch to free ice cream today.” She handed over the money with a dazzling smile.
The cashier looked stunned. “Are you serious?”
“Very,” Selene replied. “Completely serious.”
Just then, more students began forming a line, grabbing their trays. The cashier hesitated, looked at Sebastian, and then at the money.
“Well… if it’s really from him…”
“Oh, it is,” Selene said before Sebastian could interject.
The cashier rang a small bell to get attention. “Everyone in line today gets free ice cream courtesy of Sebastian Ford!”
There was a beat of silence before someone shouted, “Thanks for the ice cream, Sebastian!”
“Dude! Free dessert? Legend!” another said.
Selene didn’t even need to look back. She felt the awkward panic radiating off Sebastian as more and more students turned to thank him with enthusiastic grins and claps on the shoulder.
“Thanks, bro!” “You’re the best!” “Can we get sundaes tomorrow?”
Sebastian stood stiffly, red in the face, awkwardly nodding to everyone who passed by. His lips twitched in a forced smile, and his hand waved mechanically.
Selene strolled out of the cafeteria like a queen leaving her court. She didn’t need a crown—just wit and timing.
Once outside, she let herself grin freely. Maybe she hadn’t planned it, but she had played that moment perfectly. For every insult he threw at her, she had a way to flip it back in his face.
She was new here, sure. But she wasn’t fragile.
Let them talk. Let them guess. Let Sebastian brood.
Selene Parker didn’t just survive new environments—she made them her stage. And anyone who tried to drag her down would find out the hard way:
She always left the last laugh— Sweet, cold, and served with sprinkles.