They must think I’m deaf.

I sigh, adjusting the collar of my mahogany turtleneck sweater as I stroll through the hallowed halls of Saint Winston’s College. Tossing my hickory-colored hair over my shoulder, I glance at my phone, feigning indifference to the stares that follow me. A clique of girls leans against their lockers, snickering loudly enough to ensure I hear.

“Looks like they’ll let anyone in these days,” one sneers. “I heard she’s sleeping with the professors just to stay here. Even the old, decrepit headmaster himself.”

“Mr. Harrison?” A doe-eyed brunette glances my way with open disgust. “My god. What a wh—”

“It’s all anyone’s talking about. We all know she’s not good at anything else.”

The echo of my heels against the marble floor makes the hallway feel emptier than it is, the sound bouncing unsettlingly against the low murmur of whispers. I send off a quick text and tuck my phone into my back pocket, keeping my gaze fixed straight ahead.

After navigating the labyrinth of corridors, I arrive at the school café, where the warm scent of Italian sandwiches and pepperoni pizza fills the air. I claim an empty table in the corner, doing my best to look unbothered as I unpack the peanut butter and jelly sandwich I’d hastily thrown together that morning. I take small bites, my shoulders tense despite my attempt to appear relaxed.

I’m halfway through my sandwich when a chair scrapes against the floor beside me. I don’t even have to look up. A smile tugs at my lips as I tilt my head to meet the clover-green gaze of my blue-haired friend.

Cassidy plops into the seat with a lazy stretch, her floral tattoos on full display as she flashes her signature smile.

“And here I was thinking you’d leave me to die of loneliness,” I tease, clutching my chest and throwing a hand dramatically across my forehead.

Cassidy rolls her eyes, laughing as she bats my hand away. “Girl, quit playing.” Despite the growing number of stares directed our way, her smile doesn’t falter. Brushing short strands of hair from her face, she props her cheek against her fist and narrows her gaze playfully. “So, I heard the rumors this time are nasty. What did you do to piss off the hyenas?”

I chuckle softly, shaking my head. “Brittney’s boyfriend dumped her last week.”

Her brow arches. “Keith? Why? Last I checked, they were the school’s ‘perfect couple.’”

I lean in closer, my voice dropping. “That was before I found out Brittney was cheating on him—with multiple guys. And not just any guys—his teammates.”

Cassidy’s jaw drops. “No. Freaking. Way.”

I nod, resting my chin in my palm. “He was the only one who didn’t know, and it wasn’t fair to him. Keith’s practically family to me—we’ve known each other since we were kids. I couldn’t just stand by and let her keep breaking his heart.”

Cassidy whistles low, shaking her head. “Brittney has no shame. But that explains why her posse’s claws are out. You’re public enemy number one now.”

I shrug, pulling out my planner and a pen. “Let them talk. I know it’s not true, so their words don’t bother me.”

We finish our food in companionable silence, Cassidy occasionally sipping her mocha frappuccino. Just as we’re about to leave, a hot sensation washes over my back, soaking through my sweater.

I hiss, whipping around to see Brittney standing there, her now-empty coffee cup dangling from her manicured fingers. Her lips curve into a false gasp, her hazel eyes alight with glee.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry, Olive,” she chirps, placing the empty cup on our table with theatrical flair. “I didn’t even see you there.”

Her hand lands heavily on my shoulder, fingers digging in as she leans closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You really shouldn’t have stuck your nose where it didn’t belong,” she hisses. “Now I’m going to make your life a living he—”

Cassidy shoves her back before she can finish, her face a mask of fury as she inspects my burn. “Brittney,” she growls through clenched teeth, “I swear to God, if you don’t get your—”

“What’s going on here?”

A deep voice slices through the tension, silencing the entire café.

We turn to see Professor Zayden Sinclair, his charcoal eyes scanning the scene with detached curiosity. He strides over with the grace of someone completely in control, his tall frame towering over us.

Before anyone can respond, he kneels slightly, inspecting my shoulder with a frown. “This could get worse if untreated,” he mutters. Then, without waiting for my input, he takes my arm and gently pulls me to my feet.

“Let’s go. I have a first-aid kit in my lab,” he says curtly, already leading me away.

Behind us, Brittney sputters indignantly. “Professor, I—”

“I suggest you find better things to do with your time,” he cuts her off without a glance, his focus solely on me as we exit the café.

I follow him in stunned silence, my mind racing. Standing at 5’7”, I’m not exactly short, but next to him—easily 6’4”—I feel small. His broad chest and calm authority are almost… comforting, though now is definitely not the time to dwell on that.

As he guides me down the hall, I glance up at his chiseled features, my fingers twitching with the urge to brush the stray onyx strands from his face.

“Why were you in the café?” I ask softly, my voice breaking the silence.

“I was conducting an experiment,” he replies without looking at me, “until the noise became impossible to ignore.”

Of course, I think dryly. Leave it to Zayden Sinclair to handle chaos like it’s just another formula to solve.