I flinched and looked away from Khaelon, turning toward the voice behind me. A woman was walking over sharp features, her chestnut hair tied in a messy bun, glasses that were a little too big for her face. She looked serious at first, but as she got closer, her expression softened, and that weird tension in my shoulders eased a bit.

“Your ID,” she said, holding out the small card. “You dropped it near the vending machines earlier.”

My jaw dropped. “Oh wow. Thank you. I didn’t even realize I lost it.”

She gave a kind smile. “No problem.” Her eyes shifted to Khaelon, who was still standing close behind me. Only then did he finally let go of my waist.

I hold the ID with a shaky hand and turned to her again. “Thanks again… um, what’s your name?”

She adjusted her glasses. “Emilia Cruz. I’m one of the guidance assistants for the freshman program. But I’m also a senior here.” She held out her hand with a small smile. “Nice to meet you, Vida.”

I blinked. “Wait, how do you know my…”

“It’s right there in your ID.” Then she paused, glancing between me and Khaelon like she was figuring something out.

“We’re actually in the same class this semester. Literature and Comparative Ethics.”

“You’re in that class too?” I asked, eyebrows shooting up.

She laughed. “Yeah. I saw your name on the roster and thought it sounded familiar. And now here we are.”

I was just starting to relax when I felt the heat of Khaelon’s stare again. I looked over at him.

He wasn’t eating. He wasn’t even looking at me.

His eyes were locked on the ID in my hand, eyebrows pulled tight like just seeing it ticked him off. Then he spoke.

“Your last name’s Moretti?”

His voice didn’t sound cold this time it sounded stunned.

I froze. “Y-yeah?”

“Damn it!” His jaw tensed.

His face changed instantly. It was like someone flipped a switch. The fork in his hand creaked as his grip tightened. And then, without saying another word, he stood up so fast his chair screeched across the floor.

He didn’t look at me. Didn’t look at anyone.

He just walked out of the cafeteria.

I stood there, stunned. My heart thumped hard in my chest. It was my name. That’s what set him off. But why?

I barely noticed when Emilia gently grabbed my arm and pulled me toward an empty table by the window, away from the people who had started whispering and staring.

“Come on,” she said softly. “Let’s sit.”

I followed her without thinking.

We sat down, “You okay?”

I looked at her, still dazed. “I… I don’t know. That was so weird.” I glanced toward the cafeteria doors. “He was totally normal until he heard my last name. Then it was like I smacked him or something.”

Emilia didn’t seem shocked. She chewed for a second, then wiped her mouth. “Just don’t mind it. Actually, I was surprised when he sit beside you.”

“I didn't him to do that too, “I said.

“Well, He Barely talks to anyone outside his circle. Even the teachers treat him like he’s someone special.” She replied.

“Yeah, I knew it,” I muttered, hands still shaking as I grabbed my water bottle.

“You are lucky enough!” she smiled at me.

“It’s Khaelon Dravik who sat next to me.”I said proudly.

“Ofcourse he is the only heir of Dravik university and a Hockey star player. Well, I heard he has a step-brother but an illegitimate one.”

“Uhm, I don’t think we should keep talking about him. We both know how angry he gets,” I said.

“Oh yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry, Mr. Dravik,” she laughed.

We both laughed, and for the first time all day, I felt like maybe I wasn’t completely alone here.

Then I remembered. “Anyway, You said we’re in the same class, right?”

She nodded. “Yep. Professor Hawthorne’s. We’ve got a lecture Friday morning.”

I sighed. “Great. Just what I need. Let’s hope no one’s already calling me the scholarship charity case.”

Emilia’s face softened but stayed firm. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true though,” I said quietly. “You heard what those girls said. I’m the scholarship girl. Which, to them, basically means I don’t belong here.”

“Scholarship means smart,” she said. “You earned your spot here, Vida. You don’t need to explain yourself to anyone. Especially not girls who think designer bags count as personality.”

I stared at her. “You’re not weirded out? That I’m not…like the rest of them?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t grow up with money either. I know what it’s like to walk into a room and feel like you don’t fit just because your shoes didn’t cost half a month’s rent. But you can let that stuff eat you alive… or you can wear it like armor.”

Her smile turned softer. “I picked armor. You should too.”

Something about her words made my chest ache in a good way. Like maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t going to have to go through this alone.

“Thanks,” I said quietly. “For sitting with me. For not making this weird.”

“Of course,” she said brightly. “We’re classmates now. Might as well team up.”

We kept talking through lunch about classes, the chaos of orientation week, even how overpriced the vending machines were. She made me laugh more than I had in days, and for a little while, I forgot about Khaelon’s stare and the way he stormed off like I was something dangerous.

But even when lunch was over and we walked out together, I couldn’t help but think about it. Why did my surname bother him so much? Why did he react like that?

I wasn’t anyone important. I didn’t come from money. I’m an orphan and vanished by my Aunt.

Later that night, curled up on my dorm bed with the lights of Dravik City glowing through the high window, I pulled out my ID and stared at it again.

Vida Elene Moretti. That was my name. So why did it feel like it meant something to him?

Something Terrible.