What's Wrong with Miss Bratty?

The morning buzzed with anticipation when a language professor strode into the classroom. Her heels clicked against the floor confidently, and her striking elegance left the room momentarily spellbound. Even Yvienna, who prided herself on staying unimpressed, couldn't help but admire the professor's poise. Still, she reminded herself that admiration didn't necessarily mean liking someone.

"Good morning, everyone. I'm Ms. Sanchez, your language professor," she began, her voice commanding yet smooth. "Since most of you don't know each other, let's break the ice. Each of you will introduce yourselves. Understood?"

The class murmured agreement, and one by one, students stood up, offering their names and snippets about their lives. Yvienna adjusted her posture, determined to make a polished impression when her turn came.

As the introductions neared her, she rose gracefully, her steps deliberate as she made her way to the front. Just as she parted her lips to speak, the door swung open, capturing everyone's attention.

A young man sauntered in, unbothered by the disruption he'd caused. He was tall, undeniably handsome, and carried himself with an air of authority. Yvienna felt a wave of unease as his sharp gaze swept across the room, lingering momentarily on her. She instinctively tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, looking away to regain composure.

"I'm sorry, I'm late," he said, his deep voice resonating.

"It's alright, Mr. Zamora," Miss Sanchez replied with a nod, her tone surprisingly accommodating.

Kyle Light Zamora. The name echoed in Yvienna's head as recognition dawned. He's the guy Tiffany mentioned—the university owner's son.

Kyle took a seat directly in front of her, his proximity unsettling. Yvienna's pulse quickened, though she quickly masked her discomfort.

"Ms. Mendoza, your turn," Ms. Sanchez reminded her, pulling her back to the moment.

Clearing her throat, Yvienna flashed a polite smile. "Good morning, everyone. I'm Yvienna Keith Mendoza, 20 years old. I hope we can all get along and make this a great year. Thank you."

The class clapped politely as she returned to her seat, stealing a quick glance at Kyle. He seemed unbothered, his eyes fixed ahead. What's his deal? she wondered, brushing off the brief encounter.

The bell rang, signaling the start of break time. Yvienna's stomach growled audibly, prompting Tiffany to grab her arm.

"Cafeteria time! Let's go!" Tiffany chirped, leading the way.

The cafeteria was vast and air-conditioned, offering a respite from the heat outside. As they scanned the space for a table, Tiffany spotted an empty one and dashed toward it.

"Save it for us!" Yvienna called, trailing behind.

Just as she reached the table, a cold splash against her blouse stopped her in her tracks. She gasped, the icy sensation taking a moment to register.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry," came a voice thick with mockery.

Yvienna turned, meeting the smug face of an unknown woman, flanked by her giggling entourage.

Clenching her jaw, Yvienna took a deep breath and forced a smile. "No worries," she said sweetly, masking her brewing irritation.

As the woman turned away, Yvienna's eyes darted toward the condiment station. Without hesitation, she concocted a foul-smelling mix of soy sauce, vinegar, and fish sauce, earning a horrified look from Tiffany.

"What are you doing?" Tiffany whispered.

"Just watch," Yvienna replied, her grin wicked.

Marching over to the woman's table, Yvienna stood behind her and unceremoniously poured the mixture over Cassandra's head.

A shriek erupted as she leapt to her feet, flinging the mess off her hair. "What the hell?!"

Yvienna smirked, tossing the cup onto the table. "Oops. My bad."

The woman lunged for her, but Yvienna sidestepped gracefully. "Don't touch me," she warned, her tone icy.

Before the scene could escalate, Yvienna felt herself being shoved from behind. She stumbled but didn't hit the ground. Strong hands steadied her, and when she looked up, she found herself face-to-face with Kyle.

"Babe!" The woman's voice shattered the tension. She rushed to Kyle, clinging to his arm. "She started it! Look what she did!"

Kyle pulled his arm away with a look of disdain. "I'm not your babe, Cassandra," he said curtly before walking off, leaving the woman fuming.

Yvienna stifled a laugh as she turned to face the woman. "You should learn to clean up your messes—starting with yourself."

With a flip of her hair, she returned to Tiffany, who gaped at her in astonishment.

"You're unbelievable," Tiffany said, shaking her head as they left the cafeteria.

As they wandered the halls, a distant cheer caught Yvienna's attention.

"What's that noise?" she asked.

Tiffany sighed, exasperated. "Probably just some game."

"Let's check it out!" Yvienna insisted, dragging Tiffany toward the commotion.

Inside the university's basketball court, players zipped across the court, the crowd roaring with excitement. Yvienna scanned the players, her gaze inevitably landing on Kyle. He looked up, meeting her eyes, and a spark of something unspoken passed between them.

"Why does he keep looking at me?" she muttered under her breath.

Tiffany didn't answer, too distracted by a familiar voice calling out to her.

"Hi, Tiffany!"

It was Andrew, their classmate. Tiffany flushed red, and Yvienna couldn't suppress a laugh.

"Shut up," Tiffany whispered, elbowing her as she struggled to keep her composure.