It was another day, the first day of my life at this prestigious university. The morning sunlight filtered through my window, illuminating my uniform, which I slipped into with a rush of excitement. For the first time, I felt truly happy wearing it-like I was dressed for success, like I could take on the world. It was as if nothing could ruin my day.

Breakfast was a delightful affair, filled with fresh pastries, fruit, and a steaming cup of coffee that invigorated me. I couldn't help but smile as I enjoyed the meal, filled with anticipation for my classes ahead. Meeting my teachers was the next step, and I was eager to impress. I even made some friends in my classes-real friends, who laughed at my jokes and shared their thoughts with enthusiasm.

When lunch rolled around, I gathered with my new friends in the bustling cafeteria. The noise was overwhelming, a medley of chatter and laughter. Just as I settled at the table, I felt a familiar hand clasp my wrist. It was Max, his face lit up with enthusiasm. "You've got to join us!" he exclaimed, almost knocking my tray over in his excitement.

The invitation turned heads, and I felt a wave of whispers wash over us, curiosity igniting the atmosphere. As I slid into the circle of their table, everyone greeted me with warmth, reminding me of my weekend adventure. "You really held your alcohol like a champ, just like James!" one of them said, and laughter erupted around the table.

Everyone seemed happy, except for Alex, who sat nearby with a stoic expression, as if emotions were foreign to him. I couldn't help but feel a sense of discomfort. His sister, I learned, was seated at a different table-what my new friends referred to as the "pink table." Apparently, those girls were the most popular in the university, and everyone either crushed on them or aspired to be like them. I could only imagine the kind of pressure that came with that status.

Max and Thomas sat on either side of me, and I felt a comforting presence among them. They asked how I was adjusting, and I beamed as I responded, "This is everything I've ever wanted. Being here, at this honorable school, feels like a dream come true." I kept the details vague; I didn't want to bore them with my aspirations.

Maeve, bursting with excitement, leaned in. "Are you coming to the beginning party?" she asked, her shoulders shaking with anticipation. "It's the first big party of the year, and everyone's invited! It's at the boys' sorority, not far from campus."

I shrugged, feeling a mix of excitement and hesitation, but before I could respond, Max jumped in. "Of course she is!" he declared, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. I looked at him and nodded, caught in the warmth of his enthusiasm, but I couldn't shake the feeling of Alex's piercing gaze from across the room. There was something about him that I found unnerving.

After lunch, which was filled with Dan's jokes-"What do you call fake spaghetti? An impasta!"-I made my way to my last class: International Relations and Global Studies. The anticipation bubbled inside me; I had a feeling this would be a subject I truly enjoyed. As I entered the classroom, my friends buzzed with curiosity about how I knew the prestigious group, which was the nickname they had for Max and his friends.

"Max is my neighbor and a good friend," I explained, and they leaned in, eager for more. Just then, our teacher, Mr. Lewis Galore, introduced himself with a charismatic smile, launching right into the subject matter.

He posed a thought-provoking question: "What is more effective in promoting global peace: international diplomacy or military intervention?" My hand shot up without hesitation, fueled by my passion for the topic.

"I believe international diplomacy is more effective," I said confidently, my voice steady.

"Very well, elaborate"

"Well...While military intervention may resolve immediate conflicts, it often leads to long-term instability and resentment. Diplomacy fosters dialogue, builds trust, and creates sustainable solutions. Peace can only be achieved when parties engage in conversation and work toward mutual understanding. History has shown us that the most enduring peace agreements come from negotiation, not violence."

Mr. Galore clapped, a proud smile on his face, but just as I basked in the moment, a voice from the other side of the room interrupted.

"While diplomacy is important, it can often be slow and ineffective. Military intervention can be necessary to protect innocent lives and stabilize regions in turmoil. Sometimes, strong action is required to enforce peace, especially when diplomacy fails."

My heart sank as I recognized the voice-Alex, the same guy who had been giving me that cold look. I glared in his direction, feeling anger flare within me as our eyes met. He smirked, as if enjoying my frustration.

Mr. Galore, sensing the tension, nodded. "Both points are valid and worthy of discussion. This is a theme we can debate further in class."

As the class wrapped up, I stormed out, my emotions bubbling just beneath the surface. But a voice called out behind me, pulling my attention away from my thoughts.

"Evelyn, wait!" It was Max, rushing to catch up with me. I turned, expecting comfort, but Alex's presence loomed nearby, and I couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't over.

Max grabbed my free hand, halting me in the middle of campus, his eyes bright with excitement. "So, are you really coming to the party?" he asked, as if my presence there was the key to unlocking something monumental. I shrugged, holding my books against my chest, trying to ignore the way my heart raced at his proximity. But as my gaze wandered, I couldn't help but notice Alex standing off to the side like a shadow, his eyes fixed on us with an intensity that made me uneasy.

"Evelyn," Max gently shook my hand, pulling my attention back to him. "Are you coming or not?"

I met his gaze, feeling the warmth in his voice, and finally nodded. "Yeah, I'll be there."

"Why are you so excited about me going?" I asked, genuinely curious.

His expression shifted, becoming serious. "It's kind of a tradition for students to socialize at these parties. It's important to be, you know, socially active here."

I raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more beneath the surface. "What else is there?"

Max sighed, running a hand through his hair, which made his long strands sway slightly. "It's just... being a scholarship student can be tough. There's a certain... aura around the other students. They've got money, status, and knowing someone like you is here can cause some alarm. I just don't want anyone to bully you or, worse, hurt you because of it."

I felt my chest tighten at his words. "Wait, are you saying people might bully me just because I'm poorer than them?"

He nodded, his eyes serious. "Yes, it's messed up, I know. But it happens. I just want you to be careful."

Stunned, I shook my head in disbelief. "So, you're saying I should be on guard because of who I am? Because I'm a scholarship student? You think I'm an easy target?"

He looked taken aback. "Evelyn, that's not what I meant. I'm just trying to look out for you."

His concern felt suffocating. "And what does that mean? Am I supposed to just blend in? Act like I'm someone I'm not? Because I can't believe you'd think that I'm the problem here."

He opened his mouth to respond, but I cut him off, my emotions boiling over. "Are you embarrassed to be seen with me? Do you belong to that group that looks down on people like me?"

Max flinched, and I immediately regretted my words. I saw the realization dawn on his face-that he'd misstepped. He hesitated, his eyes darting back to Alex, who remained a few paces away, studying us with that enigmatic look.

I couldn't stand it anymore. I took a last glance at Alex and turned away, my heart pounding as I headed toward the library. I didn't want to think about this right now. The air felt charged, and I needed to escape.

As I walked, I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd just stepped into a cage filled with wolves. The pressure to fit in, to not be targeted for my background, was mounting. Max's words echoed in my mind-"someone like me." What did that even mean? I knew he was trying to help, but the implication stung.

I could feel the weight of my situation pressing down on me. I needed to step up my game, just as Max had advised, otherwise I was afraid of what others might say or do if they discovered the truth about me. The walls of the library loomed ahead, a sanctuary where I could focus and try to push aside the swirling chaos in my mind. But deep down, I knew that this was just the beginning, and I had to prepare for the challenges that lay ahead.