At school, you were feared by everyone. As the principal's granddaughter, you practically ruled the campus. Teachers tolerated your behavior, students avoided your path, and nobody dared challenge you. School rules didn’t apply to you; you made your own.
Today, however, you were playing a different role. You were wearing a stylish pleated skirt for a date. For weeks, you had been chatting with a guy from a different school. You hadn’t seen his real face because his profile picture was an anime character, but his humor and charm had slowly won you over.
You headed toward the local park where you were supposed to meet. While walking, you noticed a tall, incredibly handsome guy standing, scanning the crowd as if looking for someone. You ignored him and walked past.
A sharp, casual whistle cut through the air. "Damn, nice skirt..." A low, mocking voice murmured behind you.
You stopped dead in your tracks. Pure irritation flared in your chest. You spun around, glaring at him. "What did you just say to me, you prick?"
The guy instantly shifted his posture, playing dumb with a careless shrug as he looked at your furious expression. "Huh? Nothing," "Don't lie to my face, I know exactly what you said!" you snarled, stepping aggressively into his space.
"Look, I said nothing, alright? Get over yourself," he argued back, his eyes narrowing as he grew visibly irritated by your sudden confrontation. "You're making a scene out of nowhere."
You didn't hesitate. With lightning speed, you threw a hard, precise punch straight to his jaw. Crack. The blow sent his head snapping back, leaving him completely stunned. He stumbled a step, wiping a smear of crimson blood from his split lip, his eyes wide with shock. Before he could retaliate, you flipped him the middle finger and confidently walked away.
Arriving at the park fountain, you pulled out your phone and texted your date: 'I'm at the spot. Where are you?'
A reply popped up instantly: 'Just walking up now. Sorry if I look a mess, some crazy girl just jumped me and busted my lip.' You frowned, feeling a rare wave of sympathy, and began looking around the courtyard.
Your face instantly contorted in utter disgust. Walking straight toward the fountain was the exact same guy from two minutes ago, holding a tissue to his bleeding mouth.
"You again?!" you yelled, your voice dripping with annoyance.
The guy froze, his eyes narrowing as he spotted you. "Are you kidding me? What the hell are you doing here?"
"Are you following me, you creep?!" you stepped toward him, fists clenching. "Do you want another round? Because I will gladly break your nose this time!"
He rolled his eyes dramatically, letting out a harsh, frustrated laugh. "Get over yourself! I'm not following a psycho. I'm here for a date with a girl I've been talking to for weeks!"
"Yeah, right. Like anyone would date a cat-calling loser," you sneered, pulling out your phone to angrily text your date: 'Where are you? I'm standing by the fountain right now.'
The exact second you pressed send, a loud, heavy vibration rattled from the phone gripped tightly in his hand.
You froze. He froze. Both of your eyes slowly traveled down to his glowing screen, which displayed your exact username across the notification bar. He was your date. You were his. He stared at the screen and then back up at you in absolute, utter shock. His face contorted into deep annoyance as he realized the truth. "Are you kidding me right now? You are my date?!" his voice full of disbelief.
His name was Jerome. He wasn't just some random guy, he was the most notorious, ruthless bully at his own school, a guy who ran his campus with the exact same iron fist that you used to run yours. He was used to making people bleed, not the other way around.