Chapter 1: Second Place, Double Life

Everyone knows me as the girl who’s always second-best. What they don’t know? I have a whole other life.

Sometimes, I wonder what people would say if they ever found out. This morning, the person who mocked me for being second place is the same one pestering me endlessly this afternoon. The irony almost makes me smile—if it didn’t sting so much.

After the placement test at the start of my senior year, I ranked second in the class. The homeroom teacher even canceled morning homeroom so we could pick our seats based on our grades.

The scent of disinfectant hung in the air as students shuffled around, clutching schedules and trading nervous glances. In the third row, right in the center, there were four seats side by side—prime real estate for any classroom. For a second, I almost went for the back row—less attention, less risk. But something in me wanted to see what would happen if I stopped hiding. I hesitated for a moment, my fingers brushing the cool metal of the desk, then sat in one of them.

The moment I sat down, Derek Lawson, who was next to me, frowned deeply.

He glared at me like I’d just spilled coffee on his college acceptance letter. His reaction was so obvious that nearly all the students lining up at the door saw it.

After homeroom, a group gathered around me, chattering away.

"The eternal number two actually dares to shamelessly sit next to Derek. Didn't you see how pissed he looked?"

"Ugly and broke, and your grades aren't even as good as his. How do you expect to get Derek's attention with those thick black-rimmed glasses?"

They laughed and reached for my glasses. My ears burned. I wanted to say something—anything—but the words stuck behind my teeth. I instinctively dodged, but in the commotion, I bumped into Derek's shoulder.

He recoiled like I'd burned him, and my glasses fell to the ground. One of the girls stepped right on them.

Derek tapped on the desk of the girl sitting behind us. "Switch seats."

The girl looked up nervously. "Huh?"

Derek repeated, "I'll talk to the teacher later. Switch."

While I squatted to pick up my broken glasses, Derek swapped seats with the girl at lightning speed, as if I were contagious.

My glasses were ruined. I shook my head in resignation.

I tried to focus on my breathing—slow in, slow out. Maybe I looked a little pitiful, because Derek stared at me for two seconds before warning coldly, "If you're having a rough time, just focus on your grades. Don't get any wild ideas."

His tone dripped with mockery.

Malicious laughter echoed through the classroom. Someone tossed a crumpled gum wrapper at my feet, and I just pretended not to notice. I kept my head down, but my cheeks burned.

I go to a top school. Derek Lawson is the golden boy—top grades, well-off family, good looks, the undisputed heartthrob.

And me? I'm a special admit, brought in to boost the school's stats—basically bought my way in.

Here, no one respects me.