Prologue

I stood outside the Student Services Office at the magnificent Silvercrest Academy. Everyone was dressed impeccably in their uniforms. The girls looked marvelous in crisp white shirts paired with well-pleated olive green skirts, white knee-high socks, and polished black shoes. The boys, too, looked dashing, their hair neatly combed, shirts crisply ironed and tucked into olive green pants. The whole scene radiated the prestige and discipline that Silvercrest Academy was known for.

The gold sunlight came in through the glass roof and shone on the huge silver emblem of the school, casting a gleaming reflection across the polished floors. The emblem, a radiant shield surrounded by intricate patterns, stood proudly at the center of the grand hall, the emblem gleamed as if alive, a constant reminder of the academy's motto: "Forge Brilliance, Lead with Honor.

I could hear Mrs. Wright, my guidance counselor, talking to someone inside. "Show her around the school for me, please." Not even a few moments later, a girl with blue eyes and long brown hair, tied into a ponytail with a small portion tucked behind her ear, came out of the room. She stood in front of me, bathed in sunlight, holding a notepad and a pen in one hand. She wasn't my age, probably a few years older. She greeted me with a smile and a small wave.

"Hi, I'm Stacey Harper, your peer mentor from grade 9. I'll be showing you around the school today. Don't worry about a thing—this place is really fun once you get to know it!"

She was really sweet. She showed me around the school and patiently answered all my questions. In mere minutes, I found myself laughing and telling her about myself.

"I'm Alexa. I'm new to the town, and I don't have any friends here yet, but I guess I made my first one," I beamed.

"Oh, is it? You'll have so many friends here that you'll probably forget me a few years later," she said with a pout. "But in the meantime, here's my phone number." She tore a piece from her notepad, scribbled her phone number on it, and wrote her name—'Stacy'—with a heart beside it, then handed it to me.

"Call me whenever you feel like talking to your friend," she said as we headed to my first class.

I entered the classroom, finding myself in front of a group of beady-eyed kids staring at me. I wanted to back out, but my homeroom teacher, Ms. Smith, gently placed her hand on my shoulder and introduced me to the class. She knelt down to match my height, smiling warmly, and told me to keep my things in my locker and sit next to Jessica, who raised her hand and waved at me. Jade had blonde hair and a face full of beautiful freckles.

When I sat next to her, she leaned toward me to whisper in my ear, "Hey, welcome to grade 7!" I smiled back, and just as I was about to say something, a boy entered the classroom, panting. He had messy brown hair and silvery-blue eyes. His face was flushed, and he was clearly sweaty from running to class.

"Look who we have here, late again, Ethan," Ms. Smith said.

"I'm sorry," he replied with the least amount of innocence.

"Right, right," the teacher said sarcastically. "Now go sit in front of Alexa."

"Who's that?" I raised my hand to get his attention, but he didn't even glance at my face. Instead, he swung his backpack over his shoulder and rushed to the seat in front of me.

"Okay, students, let's get back to class. Now, today I want you all to team up and come up with articles for the school newspaper. As we all know, it's our class's turn to submit entries for this month's edition, so be creative and start working!" Ms. Smith announced.

"Alexa, you can work with Jade and Ethan." I nodded. I smiled at Ethan, hoping for at least a greeting in return, but instead, he asked, "So you're new?" I didn't think he expected an answer, so I just answered in a nod.

"Can't you speak?" he asked, though it didn't seem like he was genuinely curious. It felt more like an insult, but I realized I hadn't said much since I got here.

"Umm... we probably should start working on our articles, shouldn't we?" I croaked, hoping that would end the conversation.

I wrote the best I could; the topic was "My Dream Wonderland," and I was satisfied with my writing. Just then, Ethan snatched the paper from my desk, read it, and smirked.

"You think you're going to get through this school like this?" he asked. "This is nothing compared to mine. If you really want to beat me, you should start doing things better—at least writing better," he said, his tone dripping with cruelty.

I met his challenge with the same cold tone. "I'm not keen on beating you, Ethan."

His smile grew wider. "Well, you should work on that too."

As I sat there, the weight of Ethan's words hung in the air, but I brushed them off. After all, I wasn't here to compete with anyone. I had enough to prove to myself. The bell rang, and the classroom buzzed with activity as students scrambled to pack up their things.

But as I walked out of the room, the feeling of being an outsider still lingered. Silvercrest Academy, with its gleaming emblem and perfect students, felt both intimidating and exciting. I had no idea what lay ahead, but one thing was certain—I was going to have to find my place in this world, no matter how hard it might be.

And maybe, just maybe, I'd find out what kind of person Ethan really was.