𝑾𝒆 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔,
thrown together by 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘦 or some 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 sense of irony, in a private all-girls school where rules and control were 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 to keep everything in line.
But she was the chaos I couldn't escape. Co...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Scarlett strutted into the dining hall like she owned it. The low murmur of conversation didn't even faze her—every eye was already on her as she made her way to her table, flanked by her usual entourage: Amelia, Claudia, and a few other clones who hung on her every word.
She slid into her usual spot, poised and perfect as ever, one hand casually brushing her hair over her shoulder. Even from across the room, I could see the slight tilt of her head, the smug smile she shot in my direction when she thought I wasn't looking.
God, she was insufferable.
"Don't," Alice said quietly from beside me, barely glancing up from her tray.
I smirked, picking up my water bottle and standing. "Oh, I'm absolutely doing this."
"Vivienne, don't," she hissed, but I was already walking.
The sound of my heels echoed as I crossed the dining hall, every step measured, deliberate. Heads turned as I approached Scarlett's table, the buzz of conversation dimming just enough for the tension to thicken.
Scarlett's eyes flicked up the second my shadow fell over her tray. Her lips curved, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. "Can I help you?"
I didn't answer. Instead, I slammed my tray down onto the table, the clatter loud enough to make Amelia flinch. Without waiting for an invitation, I slid into the empty seat directly across from Scarlett, leaning back with a grin that I knew would piss her off.
Her jaw tightened, and I caught the way her manicured fingers curled around her fork like she was imagining stabbing me with it.
"Wrong table, bitch," Scarlett said, her voice low and sharp.
I shrugged, picking up my drink and taking a slow sip. "It's a free country, isn't it? Or does this table have your name engraved on it too?"
Amelia glanced between us, clearly uncomfortable, while Claudia sat there wide-eyed, like she couldn't believe someone was daring to challenge Scarlett Delacroix.
Scarlett leaned forward, her nails tapping against the table. "You must be lost. The little wannabe section is that way," she said, jerking her head toward the far corner of the room.
I matched her lean, my smirk widening. "And miss out on all this fun? Not a chance."
Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, the entire table seemed to hold its breath. Claudia awkwardly cleared her throat, attempting to lighten the mood. "So, Vivienne, how's your first week going?"
I didn't even look at her. My attention was glued to Scarlett, who was doing everything in her power to keep from snapping.
"Oh, it's been amazing," I said, dragging out the word just to be annoying. "I'm really enjoying all the... warm welcomes."