Unveiling Samantha by Veronica Wright

Chapter 13 

“Let’s chat some other time, I’m starving,” Samantha cut in. She had eaten some pastry the night before, but it didn’t satisfy her hunger. 

Boa wrapped the waffle, and she took a bite. It was delicious. “Any juicy stories lately?” Samantha asked after munching on 

the snack. 

Boa looked awkward but before he could speak, Enzo jumped in “He’s got a crush on a teacher, but so do a lot of guys, so he’s chickening out!” 

“Enzo!” Boa protested. 

Enzo grinned, backed up by Samantha, and teased Boa more, “What? Did I say something wrong?* 

Samantha finished her waffle. “If you two have nothing better to lo, go complete the recent assignments in the research institute. Get those hair samples compared at the institute. The quicker, the better. Gotta run.” She tossed the wrapper, handed Enzo a bag from her pocket, and took off her disguise before heading into the school. 

Enzo stared at the bag and then put it away carefully, hungry for his waffle. “Hurry up, make mine!” he demanded. 

Boa was not having it. “50 dollars!” he joked. 

Enzo pretended to be outraged. “What’s it made of? Gold?” He wanted to strangle Boa. ‘Did I just blurt out his secret crush? Who doesn’t have a secret crush on someone?” he thought. Yet, he still paid up and filmed Boa making the waffle. 

Nobody else came to buy one, thinking Boa’s prices were too steep after seeing Enzo pay 50 dollars for a waffle. 

Samantha, dressed unlike the others, caught the eyes of a security guard as she passed through the school gates. “Hey! What class are you in? Where’s your uniform?” the guard asked, holding up a three-foot-long stick in front of Samantha. 

Samantha didn’t reply. Instead, she pulled out her phone and made a call, saying, “Hello… I’m handing the phone to the security guard. Please talk to him.” She then put the phone on speaker and held it out to the guard. Before he could respond. a voice came through, “Hello? Nash, let her in.” 

The security guard immediately recognized the voice as Albert’s Then, he hurriedly and respectfully opened the gate for 

Samantha 

Samantha’s situation caught the attention of the students around her. At first, they didn’t think she was attractive based on her dress. However, their perception changed when they saw her face. “Beautiful people can do anything, can’t they? She’s prettier than Adrienne, they thought. Suddenly, all eyes were on Samantha. “But isn’t there a rule that outsiders and those not wearing uniforms are not allowed inside? Could she be a new transfer student? If so, the title of campus belle is about to change hands, they guessed inwardly. 

However, the bell rang for class, and Samantha quickly disappeared from their sight. She was probably headed for Albert’s office, judging by the direction. 

She made her way to Albert’s floor at a leisurely pace. Finding him outside his office, she called out, “Hey, Grandpa Albert!” Albert turned and almost got teary- he was relieved. 

“You made it!” he blurted out. “The folks from the institute have been looking everywhere for you. I’ve been freaking out!” He couldn’t help but feel desperate as he thought about the situation. 

Samantha scoffed lightly, with hands in her pockets, “Just do what they ask. No biggie.” 

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“How can you say that? Your research institute has so many talents. Why do you come here looking for someone?” Albert asked. He was furious at the sight of Samantha’s nonchalant demeanor. 

“It’s not just your school. I will choose three outstanding individuals from every high school in Angevin,” Samantha replied. She waltzed into the office, grabbed a seat, and snagged some chips from a drawer. 

“How will you even tell who’s who?” Albert questioned. 

“I’ll find someone,” Samantha crunched on a chip. 

“Who?” Albert leaned in. 

“Christopher Wright,” she said, popping another chip. 

Albert considered her answer. “Christopher could fit the bill, but he said no way too boring for his taste. It was Albert’s first time hearing such a genuine, yet absurd, reason. 

Samantha gave a little nod. Yeah, I get it, she thought, ‘the big-deal projects are done. No thrill left. Then she asked, “So which class am I in?” 

“You’re undercover, right? Twelve Grade, Class Nine. It’s a zoo in there you’ll 

– fit right in,” he chuckled. 

That’s quite a plan you’ve devised, Samantha remarked to herself. She agreed, “Okay, where’s the uniform? Ill go get it now.” Samantha finished her food and commented inwardly, I’d like to see how mischievous they can be. 

She polished off her snacks, grabbed the uniform from Albert, and made a beeline for the class. 

Class Nine was a wild one: kids tossing paper, gaming, gossiping like it was their job. Only a couple were actually doing homework. 

“Psst, did you see the new girl? She’s a knockout, puts Adrienne to shame,” said one student. 

“Totally saw her! Perfect skin, curvy – I die!” another student gossiped. 

“Stuck-up, though,” one chipped in. “You know the grumpy guard with a stick? She had him eating out of her hand! I saw him apologizing and opening the gate for her. It seems like he stopped her, but after answering a call…” 

The class didn’t know Samantha was right outside. Then she walked in, a paper ball flew at her, but she caught it and swoosh, – right into the bin. 

Casey York, the teacher, struggling to rein in the madness, spotted Samantha and called out, “Can I help you?” 

“I’m the new kid, Samantha Vanderbilt. Mr. Youngston must’ve mentioned me,” Samantha said over the noise. Annoyed when no one listened, she strolled over and banged on the desk Complete silence. 

A redhead in the back, looked Samantha up and down and sneered at her budget pants. “Ease up on the noise, you seared the crap out of me!” 

“Yeah, how arrogant,” someone else added. 

“Looks like the new queen of the school’s a real joke,” one sneered 

The redhead’s lackeys joined in the laughter, mocking in unison. 

Cool as a cucumber, Samantha wrote her name on the board and snapped the chalk, eyeing the dude about to lob a 

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dictionary her way. The next moment, a scream echoed through the air. 

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