I've always had the greatest luck—really, the best.
Take today, for example. I just wanted a quick break between classes—five minutes, that's all. But of course, because nothing can ever be simple here, every single restroom on every school building was somehow mysteriously out of order.
First floor? 'Maintenance.'
Second floor? 'Closed for cleaning.'
Third floor? The lights were off and the door was taped shut like a crime scene.
By the time I got to the fourth, I was starting to think the universe had a personal vendetta against me and my bladder.
So naturally, I ended up at this one—the one tucked away in the farthest, creepiest corner of campus.
No big deal, right? Except when I finally found an open one and tried to leave, the lock jammed. I twisted, pulled, rattled it—nothing. Totally stuck. I stared at the door like it might magically change its mind, but nope. Meanwhile, class was rolling on like everything was perfectly normal out there.
And right on cue, the bell rang, sharp and cheerful, signaling the end of break.
Of course it did.
I sighed and took a deep breath—big mistake. I instantly slapped a hand over my nose and mouth, completely forgetting just how bad this place smelled. Great, just great.
I glanced around frantically, searching for any kind of escape route. I looked up at the door, wondering if I could somehow climb and jump over it. Then I eyed the gap at thebottom—could I crawl through there?
Both options sounded dangerously stupid. Fall and break a leg, or crawl through and risk every bacteria known to humankind?
But then again—who am I if I don't live like it's my last night?~ Right Bruno?
So, jump it is.
I grabbed the toilet lid and slammed it down, climbing up to get a bit of extra height. My fingers scrabbled at the top of the door, hauling myself up inch by inch. If only there were something solid to push off—anything sturdier than that flimsy old lock rattling beneath my weight.
Just as I was pulling myself up…
SNAP.
The lock gave out with a sharp crack.
I tumbled forward—
SLAM.
Right into the door. My whole body smacked against it, my leg flailing out wildly—and then, well…
Everything went south. Fast.
Because, like I said, I have the greatest luck.
So while my legs were flailing like crazy, my hands were just as desperate, scrambling for anything—anything—to hold onto. Because, yeah, the thought of a broken limb and a face full of bathroom germs? Not my idea of fun.
I groped around and finally caught hold of something to pull myself up. And, well...
By the time it was all over, the entire restroom was completely flooded.
But somehow—miraculously—I walked away without a scratch.
I stepped out, shouts and screams still echoing down the hall—only to find a lovely little welcoming committee waiting for me.
The faculty staff.
The principal.
And—of course—the school president.
All of them, drenched. Just staring at me.
Oh, and me? I was clutching a ceiling panel—the only thing that kept me from getting completely showered in... uh, waste water.
So yeah. Greatest luck ever.
***
"Three months."
My dad's voice echoed through his office. I stood stiffly in front of his huge glass desk.
"Three months, Reina. This is your third school transfer this year. The first semester isn't even over, and here we are."
"It's not like I chose to kick a flimsy pipe, Dad. I told you—it was an accident."
"It doesn't matter!" Dad let out a deep sigh, rubbing his temples. "No private or international school is going to accept you anymore. What am I supposed to do with you?"
"How can they not believe it was just an accident?" I muttered, rolling my eyes.
"Oh really?" He rolled his eyes right back at me. Attitude, huh? Like father, like daughter.
And just like that, we were back to the list—my greatest hits, all from this semester alone.
"You caused a fire in your school's laboratory."
"I just stumbled a bit and bumped into a cart, which knocked into a model of the solar system, and that tipped over a bottle on the open shelf, which rolled and hit another bottle—and its contents just happened to spill exactly where I was working!"
"You flooded the entire school."
"I got locked inside! And when I tried to escape—so I wouldn't get marked absent again—I tried to jump over the door, but somehow the lock I stepped on gave way, and I accidentally kicked a pipe that was apparently this close to bursting. I didn't know it would set off every single pipe in the school!"
"You were in a school fight."
"I wasn't! I was walking by when I stepped on a water bottle that rolled out from a vending machine, I stumbled, and to catch my balance, I accidentally grabbed someone's hair!"
"That started a fight."
"Well, I finished it!"
Dad sighed and shook his head, rubbing his forehead.
"Reina, even if you say it's an accident every time, people won't believe you. This happens everywhere you go. How clumsy are you?"
"I'm not clumsy," I pouted. "I just have... odd luck."
Because even when everything goes sideways around me, somehow, I'm never the one who ends up worst off.
"What am I going to do with you?" Dad groaned again.
"You could always send me abroad," I said, rolling my eyes.
"You sure about that?" He shot me another sharp look. Again with the sass. Seriously, it runs in the family.
"Ehh, might even be better there, Dad," I shot back. Who knows, maybe this time they'll chalk it up to freaky luck instead of labeling it vandalism or school violence... probably.
He shook his head, holding back an exasperated laugh. "No. I don't even know what you'd do to your classmates there. If we can't handle you here, what more in another country?"
"You could transfer me to Reinold's old school?" I teased, knowing exactly how ridiculous that sounded.
He shook his head, dead serious. "I am not sending my daughter to a Christian boarding school."
I laughed. "And thank God for that," I muttered under my breath. I'd probably burst into flames just walking through the door.
Suddenly, his landline rang. He answered immediately, eyes flicking to the privacy glass wall—opaque just a second ago, now turning transparent again.
I followed his gaze. There was Ms. Claire Evergreen, his ever-efficient secretary, holding her phone, probably calling to inform him about something urgent.
He glanced at me for a moment, then set the receiver down. "Reina, go home. You're still suspended. And by the way—you're also grounded."
"What? Dad, come on!"
He didn't budge. "Go home. Now."
He glanced at the glass wall again, then called toward the door. "Come in."
Ms. Evergreen walked in, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. She gave me a brief nod, full of her usual icy professionalism—like always, even when dealing with the Diones' endless nonsense.
With an exaggerated sigh, I grabbed my phone and stomped out of his office.
Just before I left completely, I caught a glimpse of them talking inside. I didn't hear the whole conversation, but one sentence stuck out:
"Sir, they're back again—they're really insisting that you transfer mister—"
Then the door clicked shut.
***
"You flooded another school?"
Reinold's voice rang out over the phone as I sprawled on my bed, fidgeting with the necklace he gave me for my 16th birthday. Grounded? Please. That's nothing a quick call to my brother can't fix.
"I mean, it was an accident," I said, tugging the necklace out from under my shirt, pushing the silver-pink rose charm back and forth along its chain with a shrug, even though he couldn't see me.
"You really can't stay out of trouble, huh?"
In the background, I could hear the faint rustle of wind and leaves. He was probably out walking around his campus.
"Would you even be proud of me if I did?" I teased, smiling when I heard his quiet laugh. I let go of the necklace and sat up.
My brother Reinold has been my rock for as long as I can remember—the only one who's never made me feel like some problem that needed fixing. He knows I'm not out here causing chaos for attention, unlike that so-called therapist Dad hired. Honestly, I just can't stand stupid people. Too bad I'm surrounded by them.
"I don't get why they're making such a big deal out of it," I muttered, staring at the soft glow of the fountain light outside my window. "I mean, we can pay for it."
"Well, Dad can," he said with a warm laugh. Classic Reinold.
"Just be careful, Reina," he murmured.
Ha. He means they should be careful around me.
"Always," I promised. But deep down, I knew—it's never me looking for trouble. I flicked the silver-pink rose charm, watching it spin on its delicate chain.
Trouble always finds me.