Chapter 115
No mistake Anthea glanced back with a slight turn of her head, her clear eyes free of any imperfection Tht Anthea Don’t tell me you don’t recognize me, Lizzie?”
The original Anthea was known for her vulgar tastes and foolish behavior, a social pariah despite her family’s fortune Heavy makeup was her armor. Though she was an heiress, her classmates looked down on het, with no one willing to associate with her. Lizzie, her deskmate, was the only friend she had in class.
Far from shunning Anthea, Lizzie always stood by her, ready to leap to her defense whenever someone tried to bully her.
Holy smokes! Stunned, Lizzie could only gape.
That voice was unmistakably Anthea’s, but that face…
Lizzie swallowed hard, with her eyes wide with disbelief. Anthea always caked on makeup and never seemed to care for the dress code, but without her mask of cosmetics, she was strikingly beautiful.
Not only was Lizzie thrown for a loop, but the whole class was also shell–shocked upon catching a glimpse of Anthea’s makeup–free face for the first time in nearly three years.
“Ann, you look stunning without makeup!” Lizzie exclaimed. “I always told you that you’d be gorgeous In nature, but you never believed me!”
As Anthea’s close friend, Lizzie had repeatedly urged her to forgo makeup, to no avail. But now, after a summer break, Anthea had embraced her natural look.
“Yeah,” Anthea nodded, “I’m done with makeup for good.”
“For real?” Lizzie lit up her face.
“Absolutely!”
Lizzie grinned. “That’s more like it! You’re even prettier than the school’s beauty now. I bet you’ll dethrone her in no time!”
Just then, a subtle sound filled the air.
Anthea twitched her ears. With a languid grace, she stood up, her long legs carrying her to the front of the fourth group. Resting her hands on the desk, she towered over the boy who had just tried to snap a photo of her with his phone.
“Hand it over.”
Under her gaze, the boy squirmed uncomfortably, his ears turning a bright shade of red. “Hand over what?”
“Your phone,” Anthea said evenly.
With trembling hands, the boy fished out his phone and handed it to Anthea.
She deleted the picture and handed the phone back to him. “Don’t take photos of me without permission, got it?”
“Got it,” the boy mumbled, taking back the device.
It was only after Anthea returned to her seat that he realized he hadn’t told her the password. It had been locked!
How on earth Anthea unlocked his phone and deleted the photo? Holy cow!
“Dude, Anthea, you were so cool just now!” Lizzie wrapped her arm around Anthea’s as she returned.
11:56
Handsome and beautiful?” Anthea raised an eyebrow playfully.
“Yeah!” Lizzie suddenly caught herself. “Oh my gosh, Ann, since when did you become so vain?” Casually pulling out a textbook, Anthea replied, “Am I not stating the obvious?”
Lizzie was speechless.
That was when the class president approached. “Anthea, the homeroom teacher wants to see you.”
“Alright.” Anthea stood and made her way to the office.
Bain, the balding middle–aged homeroom teacher, looked up from his grading as she entered.
“Mr. Bain, you wanted to see me?” Anthea stood at the doorway.
Bain, puzzlement crossing his face, looked up. “Who are you?” He couldn’t recall such a student in his class. “It’s me, Anthea.” replied Anthea.
Bain stared in disbelief, his expression a roller coaster of emotions.
After a long moment, he handed her the previous semester’s report card. “Take a look at your final grades.”
Anthea took the report card, her lips twitching involuntarily.
The original Anthea’s grades were abysmal.
No wonder Bain looked so displeased.
“I’ll study harder from now on and won’t drag the class down,” Anthea assured him. In her past life, she had been a top student. High school subjects were a breeze.
Study harder?
Bain gave her a skeptical gaze. That’s easier said than done, especially for a senior saddled with rock–bottom grades.
“Anthea, you’re aware of our class‘ standing. Students in our elite class earn their place here. Even the second–to–last student is much better than you. The gap is too wide,” Bain said, pausing before delivering the blow. “You’ll transfer to Class 7. I’ve already/spoken to the principal.”
Class 7 was a regular class, fitting for Anthea’s grades.
The Morris family, though disapproving of Anthea, had paid a hefty price to place her in the elite class for the sake of their reputation. Now that she was no longer Ms. Morris, there was no reason to keep her there. Bain was confident he could produce top students this year, and Anthea’s dismal performance was a
setback.
How could a teacher of his caliber, one who prided himself on nurturing top scorers, justify the presence of a student who barely scraped together fifty points?
He expected Anthea to protest, but she smiled. “Understood, Mr. Bain. I’ll make the necessary
arrangements.”
