"It's math class, everyone! Get back to your seats!" someone shouted as the math teacher swept into the room.
Instantly, the students scattered like startled birds, each returning to their desks—except for Demi and the five troublemakers—the three females and two males who'd been responsible for the earlier mess.
Demi released the two guys she'd been holding, and they lifted their heads only to find that the trash can was still awkwardly perched on top of them. The two ripped the garbage bins off their heads as if they were escaping the plague, then frantically smacked at the filth stuck to their hair.
As some students hurried past, a quiet whisper reached Demi's ear.
"By the way, Joseph is the math teacher's nephew," one student murmured.
Demi's eyes flashed briefly, but she said nothing.
A gust of anger and authority swept through the classroom as the math teacher, Rebecca Pope, stormed in. Without hesitation, she dusted off the shorter boy's head, then snapped her furious gaze toward Demi.
"What's your name again? Pitt something?" Her voice was sharp and almost screechy. "Do you have any idea how out of line you are? It's your first day, and you're already picking fights?"
Demi had the sudden urge to rub her ears. Rebecca's voice was unbearable. It was like nails on a chalkboard.
Taking a steady breath, Demi answered calmly, "Ms. Pope, my name is Demi Moone. I'm not a Pitt." She continued, pointing at the bin, "They threw my books and pencil case in the trash. They also covered my desk in garbage and spilled Coke all over it."
She kept her voice even, making sure not to sound aggressive as she gestured toward her desk and the pile of ruined school supplies.
Demi already knew about Rebecca, the math teacher. The homeroom teacher had given her a brief introduction to all the subject teachers, and she had attended a math class that morning.
Rebecca glanced at the mess, her expression shifting slightly. But instead of addressing the situation, she raised her voice, and it became even sharper.
"How do you know it was them? Did you see it with your own eyes?" she snapped. "Even if they did it, why didn't you report it to a teacher? Who gave you the right to start a fight?"
Demi finally gave in and rubbed her ears. Rebecca was unbearable.
"I figured it was easier to handle it myself rather than bother the teacher," she replied smoothly.
In the cultivation world, if someone provoked or bullied her, she didn't run to a mentor—she handled it on the spot.
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