Planting the seed

"For a city that was heavily invested in coal mining, the air feels surprisingly fresh inside the school," Tristin thought as he looked for room five in Blog D.

"Here it is," Tristin said out loud, rapping his knuckles lightly against door number five before entering.

As the door swung open, a striking young woman greeted him. Long black hair cascaded down her back in a neat ponytail, and her crimson dress hugged her curves, exuding an aura of effortless confidence.

She seemed to have been waiting for Tristin; the room was empty, with other teachers already in their classes. The room had eight office desks, all parallel to each other, and floating shelves filled with books lined the walls. Through the windows, a beautiful garden offered a relaxing view.

"You must be Tristin," she said, her voice melodic. "I'm Miss Megan, your class teacher and math instructor."

There was a hint of amusement in her eyes as she extended a hand. Unlike most men who crumbled under her gaze, Tristin met her eyes with steady confidence, surprising her.

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Megan," he replied firmly. She's beautiful and young too, he thought.

Miss Megan's smile faltered for a moment. Used to men faltering in her presence, Tristin's composure intrigued her. Brushing aside the unexpected hitch, she gestured towards the door. "Come, let's get you settled in."

Tristin followed her lead, battling a silent surge of energy pulsing through his veins.

Miss Megan wasn't oblivious to his struggle. There was a depth in his eyes that hinted at something beyond his seventeen years. A quiet confidence emanated from him, starkly contrasting the nervous energy she usually witnessed in new students.

As they walked, Tristin looked around, amazed by the view. "For a school that focuses on science and technology, you guys sure do pay a lot of attention to agriculture," he said, admiring the beautiful gardens inside the school.

"Thanks to the mining that took place about 100 years ago, the city was heavily polluted. Now the city tries its best to reduce air pollution, hence the trees and flowers," Megan said nonchalantly, glancing at the greenery.

"Oh, so you were born here then? I love how diverse Bongsburg is. So many races with their own cultures and beliefs. It's perfect for fun-loving people," Tristin said as they passed one of the buildings, navigating to his classroom.

Megan chuckled and shook her head. "Bongsburg is a jungle. Those who drive a Ferrari to school and think this is a place for fun will soon find out how harsh this city can be."

Without looking or waiting for Tristin to respond, she pushed the door open and said, "This is it, Blog C, class 2. Block C is only for grade 12; A and B are for grades 10 and 11, respectively."

They reached a bustling classroom with about 30 students. Fifteen tables, each seating two students, filled the room. Only one table had a single student who would be paired with Tristin.

"Good morning, class. This is Tristin de'Kayra, a transfer student from St. Peter's High School in Sunville. Please make him feel welcome," Miss Megan announced.

A chorus of greetings filled the room. The girls, particularly, seemed captivated by Tristin's charm.

"He's the handsome guy I was telling you about! He came in a Ferrari. I didn't know he would join our class. I must ask for his number," similar statements echoed across the room.

The boys, sensing a potential rival, sent him less enthusiastic glances.

"Who does he think he is, coming here with a Ferrari? He'll soon regret it," one boy muttered at the back.

Hearing the noise, Miss Megan hit the green chalkboard with a wooden duster, silencing everyone.

Despite her young age, Miss Megan commanded respect. There was a subtle strength in her gaze that kept both students and teachers on their toes.

She gave them twenty minutes of introductions, then the lessons began.

The morning flew by in a flurry of stolen glances and whispered comments. By the time the lunch bell rang, Tristin had become the school's unofficial celebrity.

"Ready for the grand tour, Tristin?" asked a beautiful girl about his age with short black braids, her delicate face exposed. Wearing a tight blazer that almost hid her short uniform skirt, she smiled sweetly, revealing her smooth yellow thighs.

"Lead the way, Lerato," Tristin replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Lerato blushed slightly. Suddenly, a boisterous voice interrupted their exchange. "Lerato, what's going on here? Can't a guy get a proper welcome from his favorite class rep?" Max swaggered over, his shirt untucked, looking like a delinquent.

Lerato's smile faltered for a moment. "Hey, Max." She glanced at Tristin apologetically. "Would you like to join us for lunch?"

Max's eyes gleamed with mischief. "Nah, can't do that, Lerato. I wouldn't dare steal your spotlight, especially with such a handsome newcomer around."

Lerato scowled, clearly seeing through Max's ploy. "Don't be ridiculous. You wouldn't be here if you didn't want to join us."

Max smirked. "As keen as always, class rep."

Lerato looked at Tristin, her shoulders raised, head leaning to the left.

Tristin raised an eyebrow, smiling. "The more, the merrier, I say. But let's keep it simple for lunch; my treat."

Before Lerato could protest, Max chimed in, "Sounds like a plan, Tristin!"

Navigating the bustling hallways, Max and Lerato introduced Tristin to other students along the way, some girls screamed a bit. Because Lerato was there, they couldn't express their feelings openly.

Tristin noticed how reserved these girls were when they talked to Lerato. "Are they afraid of her?" he wondered. "She would slow my plan if they are this afraid of her."

The guys gave wary nods, some even shooting vicious looks.

"Come on, boys. You can do better than this. Where are the threats?" Tristin screamed in his head as he saw their glares.

At the cafeteria, Tristin was greeted by the sweet aroma of food. Students sat in groups at red and orange tables filled with burgers, chips, soda, and a few fruits. The cafeteria was divided into two sections by a thick glass, allowing for both indoor dining and an outdoor section with a good view of the school.

Not wanting to make different orders, they opted for the same meal, a silent agreement to avoid unnecessary fanfare.

Their table became a focal point, with hushed whispers and stolen glances.

"Hello." A blond girl with heavy makeup approached Tristin. "I'm Mbali from grade 12, class 1. Here is my WhatsApp number. Add me," she said, pushing a piece of paper with her number on it.

Before Tristin could respond, Lerato grabbed the paper and looked at Mbali, her eyes narrowed. "Mbali, who gave you the courage to disturb my meal? Do you really want me to put you in your place that badly?" she asked, her voice cold as she tore the paper into smaller pieces.

"As far as I know, Tristin is not your boyfriend," Mbali retorted, taking a step back and folding her arms.

"Did I say he is my boyfriend?" Lerato asked as she slowly stood up.

"Class rep, please calm down. Mbali, please leave. You know she doesn't play around," Max said, standing up to block Lerato.

Tristin watched without a care in the world, sipping his soda.

Suddenly, the cafeteria doors swung open with a dramatic flourish. All eyes turned towards the entrance as a tall, broad-shouldered figure strode in, exuding an air of unearned authority. A gaggle of sycophants followed closely behind, mirroring his every move. The tension in the room thickened noticeably.