"Enough."
The voice cut through the room like a blade, silencing the two young ladies mid-argunt. It wasn't just the commanding tone—it was loud enough to draw the attention of everyone in the classroom. Heads turned to see the source of the voice.
Standing at the door was a woman who appeared to be in her early twenties. She wore a sleek, tailored blazer paired with a pencil skirt, the epito of professional yet imposing authority. Her neatly tied hair and sharp expression left no doubt—this was soone who ant business.
There were only two people in the room who imdiately recognized her: Dr. Thatcher and Li Wei. Their reactions, however, couldn't have been more different.
Dr. Thatcher quickly straightened up, smoothing her blouse as she stepped toward the door. "Headmaster Montgory, what a surprise!" she said with a nervous smile, hurrying to usher the woman into the room.
Amélie Montgory, the new headmaster, walked in with slow, deliberate steps. Her lips pressed into a firm line, her eyes scanning the students seated before her. Her frown deepened as she took in the scene.
Dr. Thatcher, still trying to break the awkward silence, gestured toward the students with an exaggerated smile. "Everyone, this is our new headmaster, Miss Amélie Montgory!" She spread her arms wide as though introducing royalty.
Amélie's sharp gaze moved across the room, eting the eyes of each student who stared back at her, assessing her in return. The tension was palpable. Dr. Thatcher, noticing the heavy atmosphere, cleared her throat and spoke again, this ti with a touch of nervousness. "Headmaster Montgory, what brings you to our class today?"
Amélie's expression remained firm as she folded her arms. She took a mont before responding, her voice calm but biting. "I was walking around, inspecting the school, and decided to stop by to see our so-called 'special' students." She stretched the word "special" with thinly veiled disdain before continuing, her eyes narrowing. "And what did I find? The Montgory students—the ones who are supposed to embody excellence, poise, and discipline—behaving like children who don't know the first thing about respect or class."
Her words hung in the air like a storm cloud, heavy and threatening.
She turned her glare to Dr. Thatcher, whose smile faltered as she adjusted her glasses. "And you, Miss Evelyn," Amélie said sharply, "how could you let your class get this rowdy and out of control?"
The room seed to shrink under the weight of her words. The tension rose to a breaking point, with every student now watching her intently, their eyes flickering with different emotions—amusent, anger, and defiance.
Dr. Thatcher quickly stepped in, her voice smooth yet slightly nervous. "Well, we were discussing legacies—specifically, the legacy of their families and how each could be sumd up in a single word. It got a bit heated," she explained, casting a glance at Amélie. Seeing the headmaster's unreadable expression, she added quickly, "But it was all under control. Just a friendly debate. It's sothing I've always encouraged, as it helps students sharpen their critical thinking and public speaking skills. Healthy debates prepare them for the competitive world beyond these walls."
Amélie raised an eyebrow, her arms still crossed. After a brief pause, she mused, "Legacies, huh? That's an interesting topic. I think I'd like to observe the class for a while. It'll give a chance to see how our top students perform."
Dr. Thatcher's face lit up in a wide smile. "Oh, that would be wonderful! It would be an honor to have you here, Headmaster Montgory," she said eagerly. Glancing around the room, she added, "Let go arrange for a chair."
Amélie nodded, and Dr. Thatcher quickly exited, her heels clicking against the tiled floor as she went in search of a staff mber.
Left alone with the students, Amélie stood by the front of the room, her sharp eyes scanning the class. Most of the students, now less intrigued by her visit, had begun to settle back into their seats, whispering amongst themselves or scribbling in their notebooks.
As she observed the group, her gaze landed on a student seated near the left edge of the room. Sothing about his posture—his head resting lazily on the desk, clearly uninterested in the presence of authority—caught her attention. Without hesitation, she pointed at him. "You."
Her voice snapped the room back to silence as all eyes turned toward the boy she had singled out. He lifted his head slowly, his expression a mix of shock and confusion. Looking left, then right, as though to confirm she was speaking to him, he hesitantly pointed at himself. "?"
"Yes, you," Amélie said firmly, her piercing gaze fixed on him.
Noah, the boy who had been pointed at, leaned back casually and said, "Yeah? What's wrong?"
Amélie's eyes narrowed. "What are you wearing?"
Noah glanced down at his outfit, then back up at her, unfazed. "The uniform, obviously," he replied with a shrug.
Amélie's frown deepened as her irritation grew. "That is not the standard uniform required by the school."
Noah smirked, gesturing at himself. "Yeah, no kidding. The standard one's boring. What, you want to kill my originality?"
A collective gasp rippled through the classroom as so students stifled giggles. Amélie didn't respond to Noah's sarcasm. Instead, she raised her voice, cutting through the room like a whip. "Who is the class prefect here?"
Li Wei stood up quickly, adjusting his blazer. "That would be , ma'am," he said, his voice steady.
Amélie turned to him. "According to school rules, what is the punishnt for failing to follow the dress code?"
Li nodded, as if he had morized the rulebook. "According to Article 3, Section 5 of the Student Guidelines," he began, his tone formal, "all students are required to wear the official school uniform without alteration. This includes no makeup, no dyed hair, no accessories unless it is a cross, and no footwear except regulation dress shoes. Failure to adhere to these rules results in disciplinary action, either in the form of a week-long suspension or a fine of $10,000."
The room fell silent, tension thick in the air. Noah, however, remained slouched, as if the rules didn't concern him.
Amélie's gaze swept the room before landing on another student. Her eyes settled on Gretha, whose bright purple hair seed to scream for attention. "And you," Amélie said, pointing at her. "You're also in violation of the dress code."
Gretha blinked, sitting upright. "How?" she challenged, crossing her arms.
Amélie's lips curved into a small smile, her tone suddenly sharp with mock amusent. "Unless you're about to convince that purple hair is so new genetic mutation, I'm afraid it doesn't qualify as natural."
The classroom erupted into muffled laughter, though most of the students quickly covered their mouths when Amélie shot them a warning glance. Gretha, clearly unimpressed, rolled her eyes but said nothing.
Amélie turned back to Li. "Make sure these violations are recorded. I want them addressed imdiately."
Li nodded firmly. "Yes, ma'am."
Noah sighed dramatically, shaking his head as if this was all beneath him. Slowly, he stood up, all eyes in the room glued to him—especially Amélie's, who watched him with narrowed eyes.
From his pocket, Noah pulled out a sleek black card, the kind that scread obnoxiously rich. He held it up, waving it lazily in front of Amélie like it was an annoying fly he wanted to swat away.
Amélie stared at the card, her brow furrowing. "What...what is that?" she asked, genuinely confused.
Noah tilted his head, looking at her like she had just failed the world's easiest test. "Didn't you just say a $10,000 fine for the uniform?" he drawled. "Well, here you go. Swipe away."
The classroom erupted into laughter—loud, unapologetic, and nowhere near subtle. Even Li had to press his lips together to stifle a grin.
Amélie's jaw tightened as she tried to keep her composure. "Mr. Tinubu, I presu," she said, her tone clipped. "I'm sorry to break this to you, but the fine applies each ti you're caught in violation. So, no—you'll still need to change into the appropriate attire."
Her lips curled into a triumphant, smug smile, but Noah wasn't done. He grinned back, his expression devilish. "Oh, no problem," he said, tossing the card onto the teacher's desk. "That should cover every day until the end of the term."
The class exploded into a full-blown fit of laughter now, students leaning on each other for support as the noise bounced off the walls. Even Gretha, who had been scowling earlier, wiped away tears of laughter.
Amélie's face froze, her smugness evaporating in an instant. She stared at the card, montarily at a loss for words. Noah, clearly pleased with himself, slumped back into his chair, crossing his arms like he'd just won the school lottery.
"Anything else, Headmaster?" he asked innocently, though his smirk said otherwise.
This chapter is dedicated to three special people! New readers, welco to the journey!
A huge thank you to Cocopunch88 for giving a golden ticket—your support ans the world!To Gestaltzer, who gave three golden tickets, I repeat three—you're amazing!And especially to AddictedReaderr, who not only read my entire book and comnted on several chapters (this ans so much to , I love seeing comnts!), but also gave a gift. You've really made my day!
Thank you all so much! You guys keep going. And a special shoutout to AddictedReaderr, who made feel incredibly happy with those comnts. I promised him two chapters today, and that's exactly what I'm delivering, so stay tuned for another chapter later today. Love you all!
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