Angelina’s POV

Wilson stared at me like I’d grown a second head.

The classroom had gone dead silent. Even the kids who’d been recording stopped, phones still raised but frozen.

“What did you just say to me?” Her voice came out tight.

I stayed where I was, standing next to my desk. Didn’t break eye contact.

“I said I’m not going anywhere.”

She blinked. Once. Twice. Her mouth opened, closed, opened again.

This wasn’t the script she’d expected. The old Aria—the one whose memories were flooding through my head—would’ve been crying by now. Apologizing. Begging not to get in trouble.

But I wasn’t her anymore.

Need information, I thought. Need to understand this body. This world. Can’t do that sitting in some principal’s office.

“You—” Wilson’s hand tightened around her red pen. “You just assaulted another student!”

“No, I didn’t.”

“I saw you! You grabbed Logan and lifted him off the ground!”

I glanced at Logan. He was still rubbing his neck, but he didn’t look hurt. Just shocked.

“He’s fine,” I said. “Not a scratch on him.”

“That’s not the point!” Her voice pitched higher. “You put your hands on another student in a threatening manner—”

“I was startled awake.” I kept my tone flat. Factual. “Had a nightmare. Reacted on instinct. Logan got too close. That’s all.”

Around us, whispers started up again.

“She’s actually talking back to Wilson.”

“Dude, this is insane.”

“Someone’s getting expelled today.”

Wilson’s face was turning red. “Aria Sterling, I have had enough of your disruptions. You’re physically attacking students and threatening teachers?” Wilson continued. “This behavior is completely unacceptable!”

“I didn’t threaten you.”

“You told me to ‘think carefully’!”

“That’s not a threat. That’s advice.”

Her jaw dropped. For a second, she just stared at me.

Then she spun toward the door. “I’m getting Mr. Davis. Don’t you dare move.”

She stormed out.

I sat back down.

Logan scooted his chair away from me. “Aria, what the hell? You just made everything worse!”

I didn’t answer. Just pulled out the math textbook from my backpack and opened it.

Algebra I. Basic stuff.

The numbers looked familiar. My brain processed them automatically. Equations I could solve in my sleep.

This body is fifteen, I thought. High school freshman. Omega blood. Weak. Bullied.

I needed to figure out the rules here. The hierarchy. Who had power. Who didn’t.

And I needed to do it without killing anyone.

The door slammed open.

Wilson came back, and she’d brought backup.

The man who walked in behind her was in his mid-forties, built like a brick wall. Buzz cut. Thick neck. Wore a whistle around his neck and a Roseville Lions polo shirt.

“Mr. Davis,” Wilson said, slightly breathless. “This is the student I told you about.”

Davis looked at me. Then at Logan, who was still pressed against the far side of his desk. Then back at me.

“So you’re the one causing problems.”

It wasn’t a question.

I closed my textbook. “No problems here.”

“That’s not what I heard.” He crossed his arms. “Ms. Wilson says you attacked another student. Refused to go to the principal’s office. Threatened her.”

“I didn’t attack anyone. I didn’t threaten anyone.”

“Then why is Logan sitting six feet away from you?”

I shrugged. “Ask him.”

All eyes turned to Logan.

He swallowed. “I mean… she grabbed me, yeah. But like… I kind of startled her? She was asleep and I shook her shoulder and she just… reacted?”

“There,” I said. “Misunderstanding.”

Wilson made a strangled noise. “She lifted him off the ground by his collar! That’s assault!”

“He’s not hurt.”

“That doesn’t matter!”

Davis held up a hand. “Alright, enough. Aria, you’re coming with me to the office. Now.”

“No.”

The word came out flat.

Davis’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to sit here and finish the class period.”

“That’s not how this works.”

“Then explain how it works.” I met his stare. “Because from where I’m sitting, Ms. Wilson’s classroom is already a disaster. Half these kids are on their phones. That guy in the back is literally asleep. Nobody’s paying attention. But the second I have one incident, suddenly it’s a crisis?”

Someone in the third row snorted. Tried to cover it with a cough.

Wilson’s face went white. Then red.

Davis’s expression darkened. “That’s enough. You’re coming with me. Right now.”

“No.”

“This isn’t a request.”

“I know.” I leaned back in my chair. “But I’m still not going. If the principal wants to talk to me, he can come here.”

For a second, nobody moved.

Then Davis took a step forward. “Get up.”

“No.”

Another step. “I’m not asking again.”

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