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Chapter 2

  Clare

  “Oof.” I said as I walked into the person in front of me at the door leading into Hawkins Private High School's administration office while pulling out the necessary documents I needed to submit from my backpack.

  Holding my backpack closed, I pressed my palm to my nose, feeling annoyed at the idiot that had just stopped in front of me while apologizing. “I’m so sorry.”

  I looked up and met a pair of piercing icy blue eyes over the rim of the sunglasses that he'd worn despite the cloudy day. As our eyes locked, an electric charge surged between us, an unspoken and unknown recognition that made the world around us fade away, if only for a fleeting moment.

  But then his sharp gaze, intensified by his well-defined, arched eyebrows, dispelled the momentary connection. It led my eyes to his narrow, straight nose, which added an air of refinement to his face. His slightly pursed cupid's bow lips drew my attention next, contributing to his polished appearance.

  His deep, earth-toned complexion, wavy black hair, high cheekbones, well-defined jawline, and strong, slightly pointed chin gave him a chiseled and angular look, preventing him from appearing too pretty. This blend of delicate and strong features made him undeniably striking.

  My good impression of him, based on his looks, faded away when he glared at me and dared to say, “Watch yourself.” Before turning to walk into the admin office as if he wasn’t the idiot who stopped halfway while walking.

  Excuse me?

  I was so mad that I wanted to go pull him back by the shirt and make him apologize. But of course, I didn’t dare.

  I wasn’t even sure I had the right to. I wasn’t an official member of the Hawkins pack and I was just a foster member, pushed into the pack due to Kai’s connections. I was currently permitted to stay until I finished high school and possibly more time if I showed good conduct.

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  So rubbing my nose, I walked into the admin office, submitted all my papers to the nice secretary and responded with a smile as she made small talk with me while processing my stuff.

  When she went to get my school uniform, I couldn’t help glancing through the glass partitions in the office at the boy from before who was seated on a waiting chair in front of a door labeled with the words, ‘Principal’.

  When she saw me glancing at him, the secretary, who had just returned with a small knapsack holding my uniform, shook her head and remarked, “Troublemaker.”

  Then she started saying what had to be an official spiel that she probably had to tell every new student. “Here’s your uniform, and this is your schedule. As you know, we require all students to wear uniforms, which help us maintain a sense of unity and focus on academics. On days when uniforms are not required, you have to adhere to our consistent dress code: this means wearing collared shirts, khaki or navy pants or skirts, and closed-toe shoes. No jeans, graphic t-shirts, or sneakers are allowed. Additionally, make sure your clothing is neat and modest.”

  She gave my attire an assessing look before continuing, “You can wear what you’re wearing for today, but by tomorrow, I hope you’ll switch to our school uniform. One of your classmates and a member of the welcome committee will come over soon to show you around the school premises so you don’t get lost. Oh, here she is.”

  Just then, the door to the admin office opened again and both our attentions turned to the person who walked in—a girl with long black hair who was dressed neatly in the school’s uniform. Unlike the boy I met before who was casually dressed in navy blue pants and just his white shirt, she was dressed to the nines of the school uniform with the navy blue skirt, a white shirt and the navy blue blazer rather than the sweater we were also provided with.

  “Hello, Mrs. Thompson. I’m here to get the new girl.” She said, smiling at me as I was obviously the only new student anywhere in sight.

  “There she is. Her name is Clare Parker. Okay, you two run along quickly and get the touring done as soon as possible before the buzzer for first period goes off.” Mrs. Thompson, the secretary, advised.

  “Yes ma’am.” We both chorused, glancing at each other with smiles at our unexpected synchronization.

  “My name is Lissa. Come on, I’ll show you around. Let me help you with the knapsack.” She said kindly.

  “Oh, no need, thanks.” I said politely as I followed behind her.

  As we left the office, I couldn’t help glancing back one more time in search of the arrogant boy from before, but there was no longer anyone seated in front of the principal’s office.

  I quickly forgot about him as Lissa took me around school and offered to have lunch with me, an offer I happily accepted.

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