Before anyone could argue, the high-pitched, mechanical blare of the school's final bell rang through the hallways. The sound shattered the heavy atmosphere, signaling the official end of the school day.
Stef quickly tapped a sequence on his phone, a sleek, custom-built interface lighting up his screen. "Look, if we're stuck in this crazy survival club together, we need a way to communicate without the school network tracking us. Gimme your numbers."
"Fuck no, I'm not giving my number to a nerd, it'll ruin my reputation if word gets out," Tyler said, glaring at him.
"Shut up, Tyler," Malik said, lazily retrieving his phone from his lap. "Here's my Omnichat number. Add me."
After that, Stef went around the desks, adding everyone's numbers to his phone.
"First rule," Adrian spoke up. "Tyler isn't allowed to complain about his dad more than once a day."
"Done," Stef said, flashing a rare smirk. "We're connected. Now let's get out of here before I actually lose my mind."
***
Standing by the concrete pillar where Cassandra and Silas.
"Hey, charity case," Cassandra scoffed, flicking a pebble at Shonte's sneakers as he fell into step beside them. "You're late. We've been standing here for ten minutes."
Shonte kept his eyes on the pavement, tightening his grip on his backpack straps. "Sorry. I had to change classes."
Cassandra let out a loud, mocking laugh. "So the rumors were true? I heard they moved you to a class for freaks. The whole school is talking about it. Some weird new remedial group for the rejects who can't keep up."
"It's not a freak class," Shonte muttered.
"Keep telling yourself that." Silas sneered, shoving Shonte's shoulder roughly as they crossed the street. "You've always been a broken anomaly. Honestly, it's embarrassing walking with you. Mom and Dad should have left you where they found you. Oh yeah, the lunch you made today was trash, by the way."
Shonte stayed silent, letting their cruel words wash over him. His mind drifted back to class, back to his dream. For the first time in his life, his siblings' insults didn't sting as deeply. He had something else now. Something larger than their petty hatred.
---------
When the three of them finally walked through the front door, the familiar heavy weight of anxiety immediately pressed down on Shonte's shoulders. He expected a cold dinner or a barrage of chores. Instead, he froze the moment he stepped into the living room.
Sitting on the couch were his parents, looking entirely calm, almost dazed. Resting on the floor right beside them was Shonte's one large duffel bag, packed full to the brim. Silas and Cassandra stepped past him, immediately taking his old jackets from the coat rack and tossing them carelessly onto the pile like they were discarding trash.
Then he saw it.
On the dining table was a briefcase, and inside it was a huge amount of cash that could keep a whole family for years.
"Finally, the charity case is leaving," Silas smirked, crossing his arms with a cruel smirk. "Don't come back."
"Mom? Dad? What is this?" Shonte asked, his heart skipping a beat as he looked at the packed bag.
His mother didn't even look up, her voice entirely dismissive. "A Mr. Vale called us earlier this afternoon. He explained that you've been selected for a fully funded, mandatory boarding-school residency program for difficult cases. Well, long story short, Shonte, it saves us the trouble of dealing with you. Your bags are packed. Get out."
His father nodded firmly, his expression cold and unyielding. "We signed all the paperwork. You're the school's problem now, and don't look at us like that. We did our time raising an outsider. There's a taxi waiting for you outside. Take your things and go."
Shonte stood paralyzed for a moment, the sting of their final rejection burning hot. But underneath the pain, a massive wave of relief washed over him.
Shonte grabbed the heavy strap of his duffel bag, turned his back on the house that had never been home, and walked out into the night.
Later that evening, the twelve students gathered once more in the absolute darkness of the school courtyard, their duffel bags slung over their shoulders. The air was crisp, and the moonlight cast long shadows across the concrete. Somehow, Luxor had managed to convince all of their parents to send their children willingly away.
"Welcome back, my students," Luxor's melodic voice echoed from the teacher's lips.
"FUCK!!!" Tyler screamed. In a blind panic, he lunged sideways, crashing directly into Mia and clawing at her shoulders.
"Ghost! It's a ghost," he shrieked, his voice cracking as he tried to hide behind Mia.
Mia let out a slow, exhausted sigh, reached up, grabbed Tyler by his collar, and shoved him hard.
"Get off me, you wuss," Mia said exhaustedly.
Adrian let out a snort. Then one by one, each of them started laughing.
Tyler quickly straightened his hair and clothes, his face turning red as he tried to avoid more embarrassment.
"This is where you will be staying."
"Wow, this place is huge," Shonte muttered.
"Well, compared to my father's mas—"
"Shut up," Malik interrupeted him. "Do you just yap all day?"
***
The transition from a cramped high school classroom to a new reality happened over a single, surreal weekend. Somehow, the principal gave them a fully funded building on the far edge of the campus, each person having their own room.
It wasn't just a classroom wing. It was an entire private estate. The school board had approved it without a single question(which was suspicious), designating it as a high-security, specialized learning residency.
By Saturday morning, the paperwork was finalized. Shonte stood in the center of his new dorm room inside the private building, staring around in absolute disbelief. Luxor had promised comfort, but this was a masterpiece. The room was massive, featuring polished white marble floors, a plush king-sized bed, a private luxury bathroom, and massive windows that overlooked the school's older woods. Because the building was so vast, Luxor had ensured that every one of the twelve students received their own completely private bedroom. There were no roommates to disturb them, no toxic family members slamming doors, and no judgment.
Maybe life was turning sunny side up for Shonte at Belmont Heights.
But again, who knows?