Peak

You are a ninth-grader. Your parents have transferred you to a new school. Right now, you are standing in front of your new class, with your homeroom teacher by your side. It was very noisy, so the teacher had to shout to be heard.

"Class, attention!" He introduced you as the new student. The class fell silent, shifting all their attention toward you. Some were whispering, while others looked away with indifference.

"There's only one seat left. Take the fourth desk in the first row, by the window," the teacher said, pointing toward the desk. Sitting there was a guy with shaggy, purple hair. His frowning gaze was fixed on you, evaluatively. As soon as you sat down, he began to speak. Bluntly.

"Listen up. Sitting with me, you need to remember one thing—I'm not in the mood for talking, and I have even less intention of being friends. Keep your distance and don't cross over to my side of the desk. Got it?" He looked away indifferently, not waiting for a confirmation.