Mr. Jake Peterson stood not far from the school entrance, posture straight, arms crossed, his sharp eyes hidden behind wire-rimmed glasses. He wasn't yelling—he didn't need to. His presence alone was enough to silence the courtyard.
Adam and his group exchanged quick glances—cocky, but uncertain. Then, slowly, they backed off.
The crowd that had begun to gather dispersed at once, pretending not to have been watching. Business as usual.
As the group headed inside with forced laughter and muttered curses, Liam looked up at the man who had spoken. Mr. Peterson gave him a slight nod.
"You okay?" he asked.
Liam hesitated, then gave a small, uncertain nod, still clutching the straps of his backpack.
A moment later, a sleek black SUV pulled up at the curb. Michael stepped out, having witnessed everything from behind the windshield. He approached slowly, eyes flicking from the departing students to his son.
"What was that about?" he asked.
Jake didn't look at him. "Introduction day. Just making an impression."
Michael handed over a sleek black lunch bag and patted his son's shoulder. "Good luck on your first day," he said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You'll need it."
Jake accepted the bag with a brief nod. "Thanks. I've handled worse."
Michael chuckled, half-worried. "Not sure you've ever dealt with a teenager with a trust fund and a God complex."
Jake's gaze lingered on the school entrance where Adam and his crew had vanished. "I've seen what unchecked privilege turns into. This… I can handle."
Michael raised an eyebrow but said nothing. As Jake turned toward the building, his coat catching the breeze like a cape, Michael watched him go—torn between pride and unease.
Inside the school, whispers spread like wildfire.
"Who's that guy?" "New English teacher." "I heard he's ex-military." "Looks like he doesn't take crap from anyone." "I bet he's gonna try to take Adam down."
In Room 12-B, Jake Peterson stood by the whiteboard, writing his name in clean, efficient strokes: Mr. Peterson.
He turned to face the class.
"I don't believe in busywork. I don't believe in unfair treatment. And I definitely don't believe in students who think they run the place. If your last teacher was easy, forget it. You're on a clean slate now. Let's begin."
Adam and his gang exchanged smirks, their eyes rolling as if they'd seen a dozen teachers like him before.
Out in the hallway, Liam lingered just outside the door, his heart thudding. Finally, he took a deep breath and stepped inside.
Jake met his eyes and gave a subtle nod—just enough.
And for the first time in a long while, Liam felt like maybe, just maybe, things were about to change.
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