After a wild party spirals out of control, a group of teenage boys are forced to attend an elite all-girls school as punishment, where they must learn discipline and respect. While they initially see it as an opportunity to be surrounded by girls an...
Dylan slammed his door shut, his frustration boiling over. It wasn't fair. All of them punished because of Aaron's carelessness? He clenched his fists, staring at his reflection in the mirror, the uniform tight around his neck. The thought of getting his hair styled to fit the school's "image" just because Aaron couldn't follow the rules felt like a slap in the face.
With a huff, he kicked off his shoes, sending them flying into the bed. The sudden release of tension helped, if only a little. He stormed into the small closet, flipping through the clothes with quick, angry movements. The idea of being forced into yet another humiliating experience weighed heavily on him. He stopped, grabbing a cream knit sweater, soft and warm under his fingers. Without thinking too much, he yanked it off the hanger and pulled it over his head.
The sweater was looser than he expected, though it cinched at his wrists and fell just around his waist, slightly cropped. He eyed the brown corduroy pants that hung on the next hanger. Grabbing them, he slipped them on, the fabric hugging tightly around his waist, hips, and thighs, before flaring out at the bottom. A pair of white sneakers completed the look. Dylan looked at himself in the mirror, the outfit not something he'd ever imagine himself choosing, but it worked.
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He ran a hand through his hair, still frustrated, and stormed out of the room, heading straight for Marcus.
Knocking once before letting himself in, he found Marcus lounging on his bed, still in his uniform, staring absentmindedly at the ceiling. Dylan didn't waste time. "Can you believe this? All of us getting punished for Aaron's mess?"
Marcus barely looked up, much calmer than Dylan had expected. "I get it, but... what's the point in getting mad?" he said with a shrug. "It's just a haircut, Dylan. We've been through worse."
Dylan blinked, the wind taken out of his sails by Marcus' surprisingly zen reaction. "But it's not just a haircut—it's the principle of it. We didn't do anything, and now we're stuck with some dumb punishment."
Marcus sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Yeah, I get that, but compared to everything else Beaumont could've done, this is pretty tame. She's just letting us know we're all in this together. If one of us messes up, we all pay. Honestly, it's not that bad."
Dylan let out a deep sigh, pacing the room a little as Marcus' words sank in. He had a point. Sure, it sucked, but in the grand scheme of things, this was relatively mild. A haircut was the least of their problems.
"Okay, you're right," Dylan muttered, running a hand through his hair again as if to feel it for one last time. "But it's still annoying."
Marcus stood, walking over to his closet. "You know what's annoying? This." He opened the closet door, revealing an array of dresses and skirts. "I have no idea what to wear. How did you manage to style yourself so well?"
Dylan looked Marcus up and down, his expression softening. "I don't know... it just kind of happened."
Marcus rifled through his clothes, pulling out one item after another, clearly lost. "I don't even have any pants. Just dresses. And skirts."
Dylan stepped forward, his hand brushing over a t-shirt dress. He pulled it out of the closet, holding it up to Marcus. "Here. Just wear this. It's basically a t-shirt."
Marcus eyed the charcoal dress with uncertainty but finally sighed, taking it from Dylan. "Yeah, I guess it's the lesser of the evils." He pulled the dress over his head, adjusting it awkwardly before looking at Dylan for approval. "How do I look?"
Dylan gave him an encouraging smile. "You look fine, man. It's just clothes. Trust me, no one's going to care."
Marcus nodded, still a bit uncomfortable but relieved that the decision had been made. Together, they headed into the hall, where Kyle was waiting for them, already dressed in a pair of baggy jeans and an oversized band tee.
Kyle raised an eyebrow when he saw Marcus. "Really, man? A dress?"
Dylan stepped in immediately, crossing his arms. "He didn't have any other option, okay? He legit didn't have any pants."
Kyle shrugged, not pushing the issue. "Fair enough. Let's just get this over with."
They all exchanged a look. No one had mentioned waiting for Aaron, and none of them seemed in the mood to. Silently, they made their way to the dining hall, heading straight for their usual table where the girls were already seated.
As the boys approached, Emily glanced up and gave them a teasing smile. "Look at you three, branching out with your style." There was a hint of genuine praise beneath the playful tone.
Hannah chimed in, nudging Sophie. "I actually like the corduroy pants, Dylan. They're cute!"
"Thanks," Dylan muttered, sliding into his seat as the conversation shifted.
They didn't linger on the looming punishment. Instead, Marcus asked the girls what they did for fun on weekends. It was a welcome distraction.
"Well, we usually hang out by the pond," Sophie explained, leaning back in her chair. "Play cards, enjoy the fresh air. You guys should join us after your haircuts. It's a nice break."
The boys exchanged glances and nodded in agreement. Anything to take their minds off the day ahead.
As they settled into their conversation, Aaron finally showed up, late and clearly disinterested. He was wearing an oversized tee and a skirt, his usual scowl in place. No one acknowledged him as he sat down, and he didn't seem to care.
The conversation flowed around him, the boys and girls laughing and chatting. Dylan felt a weight lift, even if only temporarily. The punishment was still hanging over them, but for now, they could ignore it.
After breakfast, they headed back to their common area to wait for the hairstylist. The tension returned as they sat down, each boy silently steeling themselves for whatever came next.
