Golden Melody (Editing)

Chapter 108

Miexha paused by the door, heart fluttering like a small bird in her chest.
The golden sign above the door read: Section 6.

Not 8. Not the bottom.

She blinked twice, just to make sure. Then smiled.

Maybe she really did do well on her sophomore entrance exam. Maybe all those late nights with Jayson helping her review weren’t for nothing after all.

The classroom was quieter than she expected — wide windows letting sunlight in, desks arranged in a neat curve.
Only six students were chatting inside.
When she stepped in, all six pairs of eyes turned toward her.

Then one familiar voice lit up.
“Miexha?”

His soft smile was the same as always, but something in him looked more confident this year — the way he stood, the tidy fold of his uniform, his neatly clipped ID tag.

“Miguel!” she beamed.

He grinned, walking up to her. “Welcome to Section 6, Miss Sophomore.”

He gestured toward the row of empty seats.
“Here — sit beside me. I already saved this spot.”

Miexha glanced around, surprised again.
“Why are there only seven of us?”

Miguel chuckled. “Because we’re special. Section 6 is small but… selected. Everyone here passed the skill and focus test. We’re like… the weird geniuses no one knows what to do with.”

She laughed softly, sitting down beside him.
“That sounds about right.”

He leaned closer, lowering his voice.
“But don’t worry, no one will bully you here. I’ll be your personal guard and guide.”

Miexha blinked, then giggled behind her hand.
“You’re too sweet.”

Miguel blushed immediately, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I just… want to make sure you feel safe here.”

Her smile softened, though she tried to tease him.
“But you shouldn’t get too close, Miguel. My fiancé’s a jealous type.”

He froze. “Oh.”

Then forced a nervous laugh. “Right. Right, the presidential son. I don’t want to make an enemy of Jayson Dom, trust me. I just—” he looked down at his notebook, sheepish
“—want to be friends. Since we’re classmates now. And seatmates.”

Miexha’s laughter returned, light and sincere.
“Thank you, Miguel. That means a lot.”

Before Miguel could say anything else, the classroom door slid open. Their math teacher, a tall woman with circular glasses and an energy drink in hand, stepped inside.

“Good morning, Section 6,” she said crisply.
“We’ll start with introductions before I ruin your day with formulas.”

The students chuckled.

When it was her turn, Miexha stood, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.
Her voice was small but clear. “I’m Miexha Verra… sophomore. I like music, rabbits, and… math when it’s nice to me.”

A few students laughed softly.
Miguel clapped once, proud.

And as Miexha sat down, her eyes flicked to the window — sunlight reflecting through the glass, her reflection smiling back at her.

Math was surprisingly easy now.
For someone who used to blank out at the sight of numbers, Miexha could finally solve equations on her own. Of course, she owed that to Zatariel’s strict but effective tutoring—and to Jayson’s “review sessions” before bedtime.