The next day started like any other at St Augustine Academy—polished, loud, and completely indifferent to someone like Kevin Emilio Boyce.
He hadn't seen her yet. Not in the crowded hallways, not in the rush between classes. He told himself that was fine. Better, even. His parents' words echoed in his head: Keep your head down. Focus.
But when the bell rang for morning break and students poured out of classrooms like a flood, Kevin headed to his locker alone, backpack heavy on one shoulder. He was fumbling with the combination when he spotted her.
Alice Tanaka.
She was coming down the hall with her usual group—tall, confident girls who moved like they owned the corridor. Alice was the shortest by far, but somehow the center of everything. Coffee-brown skin catching the fluorescent lights. Long curly hair swaying. Dimples flashing as she laughed at something one of her friends said, her hand lightly touching the girl's shoulder. That raspy, hoarse voice—low and smoky—carried just enough for him to hear it over the noise.
Beautiful. Untouchable.
Kevin didn't mean to stare. He never did. But his eyes lingered anyway.
One of Alice's friends noticed first. A tall blonde girl with perfect straight hair glanced over, followed Alice's line of sight, and leaned in to whisper something. Alice's head turned slowly.
Their eyes met.
Recognition flashed across her face—the new nerd from yesterday. The one with the oversized goggles and the mismatched stare. Her expression shifted from casual to disgusted in a heartbeat.
Kevin looked away too late.
He heard the click of her shoes before he felt it—a sharp shove between his shoulder blades. He stumbled forward, arms windmilling, and crashed to the polished floor. Books scattered. His goggles skidded across the tiles.
Laughter erupted around him.
Alice stood over him, arms crossed, voice cutting through the noise like a blade.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" she snapped, that beautiful rasp now laced with venom. "You don't look at me like you own me. You don't look at me at all. You just got here, nerd—learn your place."
Heads turned. Phones came out. The hallway became a circle.
Kevin stayed on the ground for a second, breath knocked out of him more from shock than the fall. He didn't yell back. Didn't argue. Just looked up at her—those deep black eyes burning down at him—and felt something twist in his chest.
"Back off," Alice continued, louder now, feeding off the crowd. "Fuck off with that staring. I don't want it."
More laughter. Someone whistled.
Then two boys pushed through the edge of the circle—fellow scholarship kids Kevin had nodded to in class. One skinny with messy black hair, the other quieter, sharper-eyed.
They helped him up without a word. Picked up his books. Handed him his goggles.
Kevin stood, face burning under the acne, braces glinting as he pressed his lips together. He didn't look at Alice again.
The crowd started to thin, still snickering. A few voices called out:
"Yeah, don't stare at Alice Tanaka like that, new kid."
"You'll learn."
And then a deeper voice cut through.
A shadow fell over Kevin.
Kyle Reinhart—basketball captain, six-foot-three, perfect jawline, letterman jacket—stepped in front of him, blocking his path. He didn't touch Kevin, just loomed.
"Word of advice," Kyle said, voice low and casual, like he was doing Kevin a favor. "Stop looking at my girl."
He didn't wait for a response. Just smirked and walked away, joining Alice and her group as they moved down the hall like nothing had happened.
Kevin exhaled slowly and followed his two rescuers toward the cafeteria courtyard. They found an empty table in the corner—far from the popular sections, shaded by a tree no one else wanted.
The skinny one spoke first.
"I'm Vernon," he said, offering a small grin. "This is William."
William gave a quiet nod. He was the one Kevin had noticed yesterday—the rich kid who'd watched him during math, curious rather than cruel.
They sat. Unwrapped cheap sandwiches. Talked about classes, teachers, the usual survival strategies for kids who didn't belong.
Eventually, Kevin asked it.
"The girl who pushed me… what's her name?"
Vernon snorted. "You're asking about Alice Tanaka? Dude. After that?"
William raised an eyebrow but stayed silent.
Kevin shrugged, trying to sound casual. "Just wanted to know who she was."
Vernon shook his head. "Alice Tanaka. Rich as hell. Her dad owns half the tech companies in the city. She's… intense. Doesn't like being looked at. Hates it, actually. Especially by—" He stopped himself.
"By guys like us," Kevin finished quietly.
Vernon didn't deny it.
William finally spoke, voice calm and measured. "You okay?"
Kevin adjusted his goggles and looked down at his half-eaten sandwich.
"Yeah," he said. "I'm fine."
But he wasn't.
And deep down, in a place he wasn't ready to na
me, he knew he'd look at her again tomorrow.