St. Alaric's Senior Secondary School looked peaceful from the outside.
Inside, it was anything but.
The moment Shree stepped into her classroom, she felt it — the way eyes slid over her, measuring, judging. She walked to her seat quietly, pretending not to notice, but one gaze burned brighter than the rest.
Richa Valdan.
She was already surrounded by her usual group, laughing, confident, untouchable. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she watched Shree take her place.
"So this is the new girl," Richa whispered, not even trying to keep it secret.
A few students giggled.
Shree kept her face calm. Her hands, however, tightened around her pen.
Forms were passed around. Name, class, emergency contact.
Shree wrote carefully: St. Alaric's Senior Secondary School.
A gentle tap came from the side. A girl with cautious eyes leaned closer.
"I'm Ira," she whispered. "Listen… don't draw attention to yourself. Richa doesn't like people who don't bow to her."
Shree glanced at her. "What happens if they don't?"
Ira swallowed. "They don't last."
Before anything else could be said, Richa's voice cut through the room.
"New girl, stand up."
The class turned. Shree rose slowly.
"You think you can just walk into my school and act like you belong?" Richa asked, smiling sweetly.
"I don't act," Shree replied. "I decide."
A few students exchanged looks.
Richa's smile tightened.
Lunch was worse.
The cafeteria buzzed with noise, but when Shree walked in, something shifted. Whispers followed her. Eyes tracked her movements.
She sat at a corner table, trying to stay invisible.
It didn't work.
Richa walked past her table, holding a glass of orange juice.
Splash.
The cold liquid spilled all over Shree's sleeve and books.
"Oh no," Richa gasped, fake innocence dripping from every word.
"I'm so clumsy."
Her friends laughed.
Shree slowly stood up. She wiped her sleeve, then looked straight at Richa.
"Don't worry," she said quietly.
"Spilled things always show who's actually messy."
The table fell silent.
Richa's eyes flashed.
"You think you're smart?"
"I think you're predictable," Shree replied.
"People who humiliate others usually fear being nothing."
A few students nearby tried to hide their smiles.
Richa noticed something else too — a boy across the cafeteria had looked at Shree for a moment. Not admiration, just curiosity.
It was enough.
Jealousy burned.
Richa leaned in, voice low.
"You don't belong here. And I'll make sure everyone knows it."
Shree met her gaze without flinching.
"Do what you want. I always survive."
Later, Ira pulled Shree aside.
"You shouldn't have done that," she whispered. "She'll come for you now. She ruins people."
"Let her try," Shree said softly.
Ira looked at her differently now — not as a victim, but as something dangerous.
Shree watched Richa from across the hall, already planning her next move.
This wasn't just bullying anymore.
It was war.