blurred lines in a forbidden fairytale

{1} testing the waters

Taylor's POV:

The bell rings, and the room fills with that chaotic energy that always comes with the first day—backpacks thudding to the floor, students claiming seats, conversations picking up in loud bursts.

I stand at the front, projecting calm, but I'm already scanning the faces, trying to get a read on them. It's a mix—some are bright-eyed and eager, some are slumped in their chairs, and some look like they're here out of obligation, eyes glued to their phones.

"Good morning, everyone," I begin, keeping my voice light. "I'm Ms. Swift. I'm gonna be your class teacher this year. I'll be teaching English and Geography. Welcome."

Most of them look up, some nodding, some offering half-hearted smiles. In the back row, though, I spot her—a girl with long, dark brown hair and eyes that are already fixed on me with a look that's both bored and irritated. She's leaning back in her chair, arms crossed tight over her chest. The posture alone screams I don't want to be here. I make a mental note.

"To start, we're going to do quick introductions—your name and one thing you enjoyed this summer," I say. "Let's just go around the room."

A boy with glasses in the front row, Michael, goes first. He adjusts his backpack nervously before saying, "I'm Michael, and, uh, I worked at a bookstore. It was...kind of fun, I guess."

I smile. "Nice! Maybe you'll have some great book recommendations for us this year."

Next, a girl with curly hair named Jenna speaks up. "I'm Jenna, and I went to the beach with my cousins. We were there for, like, a whole week." She beams, her energy contagious.

"Sounds perfect," I reply. "I hope you got some sun for all of us."

The students take turns, one after the other. Most of them stick to the script—trips to the beach, summer jobs, visiting family. A few give polite, almost robotic answers, like they're just trying to get through it.

Then girl with long, blonde hair and bright green eyes opens her mouth. "I'm Maya. I didn't really do a lot this summer but I enjoyed the time without having to study," she shrugs, though I can see the genuine smile tugging at her lips.

"That's good, right?" I answer, grinning.

Eventually it gets to her, the brunette that doesn't hesitate, doesn't even bother sitting up straight. "Aurora," she says flatly. "And I didn't enjoy anything."
Her voice cuts through the room, loud enough that a few students go silent, eyes darting between her and me. She's not just uninterested—she's challenging me, daring me to say something. There's a smirk there, like she's already written me off.

The tension ripples through the room. A girl with a contagious smile sitting near the front, Amelia, looks at me like she's waiting to see how I'll respond.

"Well, Aurora," I express, keeping my tone calm and even, "hopefully this year will give you something to look forward to."

Aurora's eyes narrow, and she lets out a laugh—a sharp, dismissive sound that fills the room. "Doubt it." She rolls her eyes, turning her attention to her phone, which she pulls out right in front of me as if to emphasize her disinterest.

I feel the eyes of the other students on me. Some of them look uncomfortable; others, like a group of boys in the middle row, exchange smirks, clearly entertained.

Michael, the boy from earlier, shifts in his seat, giving me a sympathetic look.

I force my smile to stay in place, ignoring the phone. "Let's see if we can prove you wrong."

The rest of the introductions go on, and most of the students get through their turns quickly, but I can feel Aurora's eyes on me now and then, like she's sizing me up. I push forward with the lesson, introducing the syllabus, talking about the books we'll cover. Some of the students nod or take notes. Aurora leans back, her arms crossed again, her gaze flat and unimpressed.
Occasionally, she mutters something under her breath to the girl next to her— Maya.