I stopped at the door to my designated class, leaning against the wall to catch my breath. My chest rose and fell as I muttered a silent prayer of thanks to Google Maps, without it, I would’ve wandered the halls of Willow Creek College all morning.

From the gate, I had already barged into the wrong classrooms twice before a kind janitor finally pointed me in the right direction.

My phone buzzed in my hand.

11:01.

Perfect. Only an hour late on my very first day.

Straightening my simple dress and smoothing the scarf around my neck, I inhaled deeply and pushed the door open.

Every head snapped toward me. The air seemed to still, thick with curiosity. Behind the podium, an old white-haired man turned, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose.

“Who are you,” he demanded, “and why are you interrupting my class?”

My grip tightened on the satchel hanging from my shoulder. My throat closed up under the weight of dozens of stares. Public attention had always felt like standing under a spotlight I never asked for.

“I’m Aria… Aria Thomas,” I managed, my voice thin. “I just enrolled in the arts program.”

“Aria who?” His tone was clipped as he flipped open a ledger on the podium.

“Ste…Thomas.” My voice cracked, panic fluttering in my chest like trapped birds.

He ran his finger down the page, frowning. “Your name isn’t here. You’ve not attended any of my classes.”

I swallowed hard. “I… I just enrolled two days ago. Today’s my first day.”

The silence pressed in on me. The weight of strangers’ eyes made my skin prickle. My social anxiety surged, and I silently begged him to just get this over with.

He adjusted his glasses, sighing. “Your first day, and you’re one hour and five minutes late. This class started two weeks ago. You’ll have a great deal of catching up to do. Now, sit.”

Relief washed through me as he waved me in. My legs felt like stilts as I crossed the room, careful not to trip in front of everyone. I slid into an empty seat in the back, finally releasing the breath I’d been holding.

“That was intense, huh?”

The voice came from beside me. I turned to see a girl with a sleek bob streaked with pink highlights. A mischievous smile softened her sharp features, and immediately, some of my tension melted.

“Yeah,” I whispered back, tugging my notebook from my satchel. “I don’t do very well in… public confrontations.”

“I noticed.” She grinned, her eyes kind. “I’m Maya. Maya Brooks.”

I smiled faintly. “Pretty sure the whole class knows my name now.”

Maya chuckled, leaning back. “Don’t worry about Professor Grant. He’s always grumpy. He teaches Foundations of Drawing and Illustration.”

I nodded, my eyes flicking up to the words projected in bold on the screen at the front. “He’s a real tough nut, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Maya said, flipping open her notebook with casual ease. “But hey, I can lend you my notes later. Help you catch up.”

Warmth spread through me at her kindness. “I’d… really appreciate that.”

———————————————

By the time class ended, we walked out together, chatting like old friends. The relief of finally connecting with someone buzzed inside me. High school had been lonely, girls rarely liked the timid rich girl who never quite fit in.

My stomach growled loudly, interrupting my thoughts. I flushed. “Um, Maya, is there anywhere to grab food? I skipped breakfast.”

Her brows shot up. “Skipped breakfast? Girl, that’s a crime. Come on. There’s a stand just across the road. Best burritos you’ll ever have. We’ll make it back before the next class. Trust me you do not want to be late for Professor Rowe.”

“Professor Rowe?” I asked as she tugged me along.

“You’ll see.” She winked.

The “stand” was really just a cart with a striped umbrella and a scattering of chairs. It looked… unsafe at best. I hesitated, tugging at the strap of my bag. “I thought it would be more of a diner?”

“The diner’s farther off. Twenty minutes there, twenty minutes back. We’d miss half the next class. This is better. Plus, trust me, these burritos will change your life.”

She ordered for both of us, returning with two burritos the size of bricks, two juice boxes, and bottled water. I stared at mine. It was fat, stuffed to bursting, practically oozing flavor. I’d never seen much less eaten something like it.

Maya raised a brow. “Why are you looking at it like it’s gonna bite you? Don’t tell me you’ve never had a burrito?”

Heat crept up my neck. “Um… no. But I’m open to trying.”

I unwrapped it carefully, scanning the table. “Wait, there are no forks or spoons.”

“Forks?” Maya blinked, then burst out laughing so hard she nearly tipped her chair. “Oh my God, you’re hilarious. Sit down, girl. Burritos don’t need utensils.”

“But…”

“No buts. Watch and learn.” She unwrapped the top, grabbed it with both hands, and took a massive bite, sauce dribbling down her chin. “See? Easy.”

I mimicked her, lifting the burrito in both hands and biting in. My eyes widened. “Mmm…” The sound slipped out before I could stop it.

Flavor exploded on my tongue, spicy, cheesy, smoky perfection. It was better than the bland sunny-side-up eggs our international cook made each morning. Better than the caviar Valerie forced on me daily, insisting it was “good for my health.”

Maya cackled. “Slow down, girl, that burrito isn’t going anywhere.”

I paused, cheeks burning, and laughed with her, my mouth still full.

She wiped her chin with a napkin. “So, as I was saying, Professor Rowe. Total hunk. Been crushing on him since day one. I swear half the class only shows up to drool.”

I chuckled, swallowing quickly. “I don’t think I’ll be crushing on any professor. I already have a boy…”

A roar of an engine cut me off.

A motorcycle skidded to a stop in front of us, the growl reverberating through the air. My forkless burrito nearly slipped from my hands as the rider swung off and yanked off his helmet.

Him.

My cheeks flushed hot as irritation prickled my skin.

“Hi, Maya.” Jace’s deep voice rolled out casually, as if he owned the space.

“Hey.” Maya nodded back like it was nothing. So they knew each other. Great.

Then his stormy gaze landed on me. His lips curled into a smirk.

“Well, if it isn’t princess. Didn’t peg you as community college material.”

I stiffened. “I’m enrolled here. To study art.”

He leaned lazily on the table, his helmet tucked under his arm. “You just look… too polished for this place.”

My jaw clenched. “And I didn’t peg you as the college type.”

A low chuckle escaped him as he turned away. “You’re right, princess. Only here to see my girl.”

My stomach twisted as he sauntered off to a table a few seats away, where a girl was waiting for him. She laughed at something he said, tossing her hair, leaning in far too close.

I rolled my eyes so hard it almost hurt.

“I see you’ve met Jace Miller, he attends the night classes here” Maya muttered, sipping her juice box.

“Yeah. He’s an ass.”

She smirked. “He’s bad news, Aria. You should stay far away.”

“Well, that’s going to be hard,” I said tightly, forcing another bite of my burrito. “He’s my neighbor.”