Life in school is basically a battlefield. And me? I'm usually the one accidentally setting myself on fire.
It all started when Stella noticed me actually talking to Eden. Big mistake, Aisha. Huge. Because the very next morning, Stella, Serena, and Tiffany cornered me near my locker.
"Okay, Aisha," Stella said, hair perfectly coiffed like a shampoo commercial, "you want to be friends with us? You gotta prove yourself."
"Oh… okay?" I said, cautiously. Mistake number one: I actually asked what that meant.
"Simple," Serena said with a grin that screamed chaos incoming. "You're going to do exactly what we say. Everything. Make the teachers… notice you. Make the students… notice you. Make the principal… notice you. Totally. Big. Impact."
I blinked. "Uh… are we talking about a good impact or…?"
Tiffany snickered. "Oh, Aisha. Just… follow instructions."
And so began the worst 24 hours of my life.
Step One: The Classroom Disaster
They told me to raise my hand and correct the teacher in front of the whole class about the math problem she had just explained. Not in a helpful way. In a dramatic, loud, "I'm smarter than you, obviously" kind of way.
So, I did it. And of course, I got the numbers completely wrong. The teacher blinked at me, students snickered, and Eden—oh yes, Eden—gave me that slow blink, half shock, half amusement.
"I… uh… meant… what I said?" I mumbled, sinking into my chair.
Step Two: The Cafeteria Catastrophe
Next, they told me to "accidentally" spill a tray of food in the middle of lunch near the principal's table. Genius plan, right?
I carried my tray with as much confidence as I could muster… and tripped on absolutely nothing. Chicken nuggets flew everywhere. Drinks. Juice. A sandwich perfectly aimed for my hair.
Students laughed. Teachers groaned. Principal Jones—bless him—stared as if he was personally offended. And Eden? He was there, behind the chaos, hiding a smirk and waiting.
Step Three: The Hallway Humiliation
Finally, Stella's final instruction: "Walk down the hallway, loudly announce how 'stressed' you are, and tell everyone how annoying the school is."
I did it. I shouted. I gestured. I felt like a human tornado of embarrassment. Students waved phones. Snapchat stories were born. My dignity? Gone.
By the time Eden found me, I was slumped against a locker, tears stinging my eyes from laughter, embarrassment, and frustration.
"Are you okay?" he asked calmly, brushing a strand of hair from my face like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"I hate everyone," I sobbed, but with a laugh too. "Especially Stella's army of chaos."
He smiled, kind and patient. "You're… ridiculous," he said. "And somehow, I like it."
I blinked. "Like… like-like? Or like… like you feel sorry for me?"
"No," he said, seriously. "Like… like I want to make sure no one ever makes you feel this small again."
And then my faith friend appeared from nowhere, like a God-sent shadow, whispering, "Aisha, breathe. It's okay. You're still amazing, even in a puddle of chicken nuggets."
And just like that… the two of them—my nerdy, mysterious savior and my steadfast God-friend—saved me. Not from the embarrassment entirely, because let's be real, that was permanent. But from the feeling that I had to survive this high school war alone.
"Thanks," I said, wiping tears off my face. "I… I think I hate Stella. But in a funny way. The worst kind of hate."
Eden's eyes twinkled. "Funny, yes. Dangerous, maybe. But… don't let them ruin you."
I nodded. Inside, I was thinking: Okay… this is the start of something really messy, really dramatic… and possibly really fun.