BADASS COLLEGE GIRLS

Senorita Leo perched on the razor's edge of her narrow dorm bed, her fingers gripping the windowsill until her knuckles turned bone-white. The campus sprawled before her like a battlefield she hadn't chosen but was forced to navigate daily.

Her reflection stared back from the glass, and she barely recognized the girl looking back. College was supposed to be her metamorphosis, her chance to shed the skin of who she'd been and emerge as someone untouchable. But the scars from high school—invisible yet searing—refused to heal.

"Señorita, school resumes today. Get ready," Lake's voice drifted through the thin door.

"Five more minutes," Senorita called back, her voice rough with sleep and something harder.

"Girl, you said that twenty minutes ago," Swan's voice joined in. "We're already fashionably late. Now we're just late-late."

Senorita pressed her forehead against the cool glass. "Maybe I should just skip."

"And miss the chance to terrorize Mr. Finn on day one?" Lake's laugh was sharp through the door. "That's not the Queen S I know."

The girl she'd been in junior high—soft, hopeful, eager to please—was dead and buried. In her place stood someone harder, sharper, unbreakable. And she'd make damn sure everyone knew it.

"Fine," she muttered, pushing away from the window. "Let's go make some people uncomfortable."

* * *

The classroom door didn't just open—it surrendered. Three figures emerged from the hallway like fallen angels making their grand entrance to hell. Senorita, Swan, and Lake moved with synchronized confidence that couldn't be taught or faked.

The rest of the class became background characters in their own story.

Mr. Finn's weathered face contorted behind his wire-rimmed glasses. "You're thirty minutes late. Again." His jaw worked silently. "Where were you three? Fashion Week?"

Lake yawned with theatrical precision. "I was sleeping. Didn't know the sun had the audacity to rise without sending me a personal invitation."

"Seriously though," she continued, stretching like a cat, "since when did 8 AM become a real time? That's barely morning."

Swan smoothed her skirt with practiced elegance. "I was waiting for them, obviously. Punctuality is a team sport."

"Plus," Swan added with a sweet smile, "we figured you'd appreciate the extra prep time. You looked a little frazzled last week."

But all eyes inevitably gravitated toward Senorita. Mr. Finn's glare found her like a heat-seeking missile.

"And what's your excuse, Miss Leo?"

Senorita stretched languidly. "Honestly?" She paused, letting the silence stretch. "I miss the peace and quiet when you're not around. A whole week without your voice? Absolutely blissful."

Laughter rippled through the classroom. Someone in the back row whispered, "Oh snap, she really went there."

"Did she just—" another voice started.

"Shh, this is getting good," came the response.

Mr. Finn's knuckles went white around his chalk. "Excuse me?"

Senorita's smile was a blade wrapped in silk. "Did I stutter, Mr. Finn? I said I missed you... so, so much."

"We all did," Lake chimed in with mock sincerity. "Couldn't sleep all week thinking about quadratic