Part-66

  The bell announg the start of css jolted James back to reality. He shuffled into his Math lecture, feeling strangely self-scious. As he made his way to his usual seat in the back er, the usual bustle seemed amplified. Heads turned, whispers erupted, and a few curious stares followed him like ser pointers. It was a level of attention James had never experienced before.

  He caught a glimpse of Nuri, a quiet girl who always sat a few rows ahead of him, her dark eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and something that resembled… hero worship? She nudged her friend, a bubbly redhead named Aisha, and a flurry of excited whispers erupted between them. Their words reached James in a jumble: "...hought James had it in him!" "...such a cool fighting style!" "...maybe he teach us some self-defense moves!"

  Even when he was iside of this , the stoic group of uppercssmen from the martial arts club seemed to be giving him a sed look, a hint ing respect repg their usual dismissive air. The leader of the group, a muscur senior named Rubel, leaned in towards his panions, his voice low but audible to James' heightened senses. "Did you see that jab-and-cut bo he used? Definitely not something you learn in a schoolyard brawl. Maybe we should check him out at the club sometime."

  James couldn't help but feel a small spark of satisfa ighin him. This was a far cry from the days of being an invisible nobody in the . The victainst Sourov, the onbeatable school bully, had propelled him into the spotlight, albeit a slightly unfortable one.

  He sank into his seat, trying to focus on the droniure about quadratic equations. But the whispers and curious gnces tio prickle his skin. He wasn't used to being the ter of attention, and holy, it was a little unnerving. Part of him craved the anonymity of his old life, the quiet fort of blending into the background.

  Suddenly, a crumpled piece of paper nded on his desk. James cautiously unfolded it, his heart hammering in his chest. Was this a threat? A prank? He sed the messy handwriting a out a surprised snort.

  "Nice moves against Sourov, newbie. Want some pointers? - Alex"

  It was a message from Alex, the nky boy who'd been so impressed by his fighting style. James felt a smile tug at the er of his lips. Maybe this new-found notoriety wouldn't be all bad. Maybe, just maybe, it could open some doors, fe new friendships, and even lead him to some mueeded training.

  With a newfound sense of purpose, James scribbled a quick reply on the back of the hanks, man! I'd love to beat you into pulp sometime ter." He folded it ly and gnced around the css. The whispers had subsided, repced by a sense of anticipation. James straightened in his seat, a hint of a challenge in his eyes.

  Of course, the hrown at him was a letter of threat. It said something like, "I heard you're feeling high and mighty after beating just a Judo member. e here, and I'll teach you how to fight." That's why James responded accly.

  He might not have wahe attention, but he wasn't going to waste it either. He would use this newfound respect, this flicker of fame, to his advantage. He would learhing he could, train as hard as possible, and carve his own path, one ued victory, one crumpled note, oh equation at a time.