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Chapter 22 The Unyielding Spirit
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Under the intense, scrutinizing gaze of the entire class, Leander slowly lifted his head, his eyes locking with Yvette’s striking gaze, a spark of unspoken tension crackling in the air between them.
“I understand p>
His voice was calm, almost dismissive, as he offered a single nod in acknowledgment. Without another word, he slumped back over his desk, assuming a posture that made it clear he intended to sleep, his disinterest as palpable as the stunned silence that followed.
The students of Class 4 were left momentarily speechless, their expressions a mixture of shock and disbelief. Leander’s demeanor was unmistakable–he had no interest in Yvette whatsoever. In the storied halls of Ravenridge Senior High, where Yvette’s mere presence commanded admiration, Leander was the first to show such blatant disregard.
Yvette’s brow furrowed slightly, her usually composed exterior betraying a hint of irritation. Though she did not see herself as some untouchable deity, she had never been so openly ignored. Leander’s repeated indifference, his refusal to even acknowledge her presence, sparked a simmering frustration deep within her.
The more indifferent Leander appeared the more displeased Yvette became. It was unthinkable -while the wealthy and influential students of Ravenridge clamored for her attention, this outsider, a stranger with no connections or familiarity with their world, carried himself with an air of arrogance that she found utterly infuriating. He acted as if he were above them all, and she could not conceal the disdain that welled up inside her.
“Why should I care about his attitude?” she asked herself, her thoughts simmering as her gaze lingered on Leander for a few more moments. But then, with a sudden clarity, she reminded herself that, regardless of Leander’s attitude, she remained who she was–Ravenridge’s proud campus beauty, the daughter of a family whose wealth reached into the hundreds of millions. She was the sought–after heiress, and Leander was nothing more than an ordinary high school student, one who dined at makeshift diners, unremarkable in every way that mattered to her.
With a haughty toss of her head, Yvette dismissed her thoughts, turning to wave goodbye to Madeline with an air of practiced grace. She strode out of the classroom, her steps confident and unyielding. Behind her, Leander remained as he was, motionless and unbothered, his breathing steady and faintly audible, as though the world outside his dreams was of no
consequence.
The first two periods had been devoted to classical literature, taught by a teacher known for his leniency. Leander had been allowed to sleep undisturbed, his presence barely noted by the instructor. But as the bell rang for the third period, a realization dawned on Liam, who sat nearby. He leaned forward, ready to wake Leander from his slumber, aware of the change that was about to take place.
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Just as Liam reached out, the atmosphere in the classroom shifted, a sudden tension gripping the students as a diminutive old man appeared at the door. His presence was imposing despite his small stature. His eyes, sharp and calculating behind his glasses, swept across the room with a cold, discerning gaze that sent a shiver down the spines of those who met it. Liam quickly withdrew his hand and sank back into his seat, defeated.
The easygoing mood that had pervaded the first two periods evaporated in an instant, replaced by a charged silence. Every student, who had previously lounged in their seats, now sat upright, their demeanor transformed as though they had been infused with a sudden surge of energy, all too aware of the old man’s disdain for laziness.
Madeline, unable to resist, glanced over at Leander. Her heart raced as she saw him still sprawled over his desk, utterly oblivious to the shift in the room’s atmosphere. Anxiety gnawed at her–this was not going to end well.
The old man, known as Tim Wells, was their math teacher and the formidable head of the math department. His decades of experience and unparalleled knowledge made him a revered figure within the school, but his reputation for strictness was what struck fear into the hearts of his students. Any disruption to the discipline of his classroom was met with swift and severe consequences.
Mr. Wells harbored a particular aversion to students sleeping in his class. There was a tale that had circulated among the students–how a poor soul who had dared to doze off in his lesson had been unceremoniously dragged to his office, where he was subjected to a lengthy and scathing reprimand until he was forced to offer a tearful apology.
“This is bad,” Madeline thought, her worry mounting. “Leander just joined the class. He probably doesn’t know Mr. Wells‘ rules. This could be serious trouble p>
Madeline’s heart raced with an overwhelming tide of anxiety, her thoughts tangled in a web of uncertainty. She felt utterly powerless, trapped in the unfolding moment. Tim had already ascended to the podium, a figure of authority who commanded an almost sacred respect. The classroom held its collective breath; not a single student dared to stir, herself included.
Victor’s gaze flickered with malice as he kept a vigilant watch on Leander, his rival. For some time now, he had harbored a deep–seated grudge against him, and today, fortune smiled upon him. The sight of Tim taking the stage while Leander remained sprawled out at his desk, motionless, sent a wave of dark satisfaction through Victor. He inwardly reveled at the opportunity to witness Leander’s impending downfall.
Tim was a man whose reputation preceded him–infamous for his fiery temper that had, on more than one occasion, reduced students to trembling messes. Victor, despite his bravado, would never dare to challenge Tim’s stringent classroom rules. The atmosphere in the room shifted noticeably as Tim’s presence cast a long shadow. If Leander was caught asleep, Tim’s reaction would undoubtedly be swift and unforgiving. Leander’s fate seemed sealed— humiliation awaited him, laid bare before the entire class. Victor could already imagine the
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moment, seeing it as his chance to reclaim some measure of dignity in front of Madeline.
“Hmph p>
Jade’s lips curled into a mocking smile as she caught sight of Leander’s sleeping form. Her disdain was palpable.
“So what if you’re strong? Knowing Yvette won’t save you from being a clueless drag in this class. The nerve to sleep through Mr. Wells‘ lesson? I can’t wait to see how you’ll wriggle your way out of this one p>
Tim stood tall on the platform, his sharp eyes sweeping across the rows of students until they landed on Leander, lying still in the back row. His gold–rimmed glasses gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights as he adjusted them, but rather than rousing the slumbering student immediately, he turned towards the blackboard, methodically beginning to write out a complex problem.
His movements were precise and deliberate, each stroke of chalk on the board echoing with authority. After completing the problem, he turned back to the class, his voice resonating with a calm yet commanding tone.
“Class, today we will pick up where we left off yesterday. Let’s tackle this problem p>
“I asked you all to ponder it last night. Has anyone come up with a solution p>
His gaze first fell upon Madeline. “Madeline, have you found the answer p>
Madeline, feeling the weight of his scrutiny, gently shook her head. Despite having spent the entire night wrestling with the problem, she had found no breakthrough. Her heart sank slightly, but she remained composed.
Tim offered no comment, merely shifting his attention to Victor. “Victor, what about you p>
Victor mirrored Madeline’s response with a shake of his head. He had poured over his textbooks and notes, scouring them for any hint or clue, but had found nothing. The problem remained an enigma, one he had labored over all night to no avail.
“Any other students p>
Tim’s gaze swept across the room once more, met by a sea of bowed heads. It was clear that no one else had made any progress.
Tim sighed inwardly, though his expression remained impassive. He knew the caliber of Class 4 of Senior Year, where only Victor and Madeline truly excelled. If they were stumped, it was unlikely that anyone else had fared better. Latest content published on.net
“Alright then, use the remainder of this period to continue discussing the problem amongst
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yourselves. If no one has a solution by the last fifteen minutes, I will walk you through it.
As soon as the words left his lips, the room buzzed with activity. Students began fervent discussions, hoping that by pooling their knowledge, they might stumble upon the solution.
Tim, hands clasped behind his back, slowly began to pace towards the back of the room. His presence loomed large, and every step seemed to echo with unspoken authority. Liam, seated nearby, anxiously considered whether to wake Leander, but Tim’s unwavering gaze on their row left him paralyzed with indecision.
At last, Tim reached the final row. The steady rise and fall of Leander’s breathing revealed his deep slumber, a sight that made Tim’s expression darken considerably. His eyes, cold as ice, flashed with irritation as he brought his hand down hard on Leander’s desk with a resounding slap.
“Stand up p>
The command rang out like a shot, shattering the classroom’s concentration. Every head turned towards the source of the commotion.
Leander, roused from his sleep, blinked slowly as he lifted his head. He looked up at Tim with an expression of serene calm, as though he were entirely unbothered by the situation.
“Sir, are you referring to me?” he asked, his voice even and unruffled.
“Yes, I am. Stand up p>
Tim’s voice was clipped, devoid of any warmth. There was no leniency in his gaze, only the stern expectation that his authority would be acknowledged.
Without hesitation, Leander stood, maintaining an air of unshaken composure. His eyes met Tim’s without flinching, a quiet defiance simmering beneath the surface. Tim’s eyes narrowed slightly as he regarded the young man, his tone dropping to a dangerously low register.
“Tell me, why were you sleeping in my class p>
Leander tilted his head just slightly, his expression remaining calm, almost indifferent. “There’s no special reason. I just found the class boring p>
A collective gasp seemed to rise from the class, the silence that followed thick with disbelief. Leander’s audacious words hung in the air, a blatant challenge to the unassailable authority of Tim Wells, the feared “Devil Wells” of Ravenridge Senior High. The entire class waited with bated breath, their eyes darting between the two figures standing at the center of the storm.
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