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MidReal Story
Among the Girls
Scenario:I walk through the school gates, feeling out of place as the eyes of every girl around me turn in my direction. Whispers fill the air. The environment is tense, and I can feel the curiosity and judgment from every angle. I’m the only boy here, and the entire school is already watching my every move.
Me: This is going to be... interesting.
School (voice of the bot, a voice, almost too smooth, echoes through the hallway): "Oh, look who it is… the only boy in this whole place. You’re definitely going to stand out, huh? The entire school’s already talking about you, wondering what kind of trouble you’ll stir up. Will you be the nice guy, or will you cause chaos?"
I hear giggles and curious whispers from nearby students.
"You’d better watch out. There are plenty of eyes on you now. And some of us are already wondering what you’ll do next."
Create my version of this story
Ethan Logan
new student, relationships with other students are developing, tall with messy brown hair, curious and adaptable
Ava Torres
outcast student who befriends Ethan, friends with Ethan and rivals with Lily, short red hair in a pixie cut, rebellious and insightful
Lily Chen
senior student and leader of a popular clique, friends with Ethan, long black hair in a ponytail, ambitious and protective
I was sitting on the bus when I noticed all the girls were looking at me.
I wasn't really surprised.
I mean, I was the only guy in an allgirls school.
That kind of attention was expected, I guessed.
My name is Ethan Logan.
I had to transfer here because of family reasons.
My father was kind of a businessman, so we all moved together with him.
That's why I came here, mid semester, to start my studies.
I was curious to see how the students would react to me.
I mean, I was the first guy to ever attend this school.
Would they be friendly or cold?
Well, now I kind of had my answer.
When we reached the school, it became kind of chaotic.
Everyone was staring at me, and now even the teachers were doing it too.
I kind of smiled and waved, adapting to the situation.
They looked kind of surprised by my reaction, but I didn't really mind it.
"So, Mr. Logan. Welcome to our school," the director said.
It was kind of weird how he made it sound like an honor for me to study there.
"Well, thank you," I replied politely.
"Please, follow me."
I followed the director through the hallway.
It was so crowded that I could hardly move.
The girls pressed against the walls to let us pass, and everyone was looking at me like I was some kind of celebrity.
The director was a tall man in a nice suit.
He seemed kind of strict but not too old.
Maybe he was in his late twenties or something.
"This is our school. It’s been around for a hundred years," he explained as we walked.
"We’re proud to say that most of our students go to college after graduation."
He kept talking about the school’s achievements, but it was hard to hear him over the whispers of the other students.
They all looked curious, wondering who I was and what I would do next.
It wasn’t really surprising because I was the only guy in an allgirls school.
I mean, that’s definitely going to get attention. "Here you can see our bulletin board," the director said when we reached a big board with notes on it.
"It has all our clubs and activities listed, and also some rules."
A group of girls blocked our way as we tried to stop there.
They were wearing matching accessories, which made them look kind of ridiculous.
I guessed this must be Lily’s clique.
The director cleared his throat to get their attention, but they didn't really hurry to move until he told them directly that they were blocking our way.
Then they reluctantly moved aside, giggling among themselves as they did it.
We continued down another hallway.
This one had more colorful artwork on the walls, and the lockers were smaller.
Through the windows of some classrooms, I could see that this must be the elementary section.
The girls were all sitting at tiny desks and looked really young.
Some of them turned to stare as we passed by.
"Here we have our elementary section," the director said.
"It’s from K-12. That means kindergarten through twelfth grade."
He pointed through the window to a classroom with older girls.
"Those are our seniors," he explained.
"And then there’s the juniors, sophomores, freshmen, middle school…"
He kept talking, pointing out different classrooms as he did it, but I wasn’t really listening anymore.
I was kind of overwhelmed by all this attention.
Suddenly, the door to one of the classrooms opened and a group of kindergarteners came out for their bathroom break.
They were standing in a line behind their teacher when they suddenly saw me. They all stopped in their tracks and looked at me with wide eyes.
I guessed they weren’t used to seeing boys around here either.
I felt kind of awkward because they were staring so hard, but then one of them waved shyly at me.
I waved back and then quickly turned away because I didn’t really know how to react.
The director led me upstairs toward the high school wing.
"Are you nervous?" the director asked, glancing at me with a knowing smile.
"Not really," I replied, trying to sound confident, "but it's a bit overwhelming."
"Don't worry," he said reassuringly, "you'll get used to it soon enough, and besides, there's something special about you that the school needs."
I trailed behind the director as he continued to lead me through the school.
We passed by a few more classrooms and then reached the high school section.
The hallways were wider here, and there were glass display cases along the walls that held trophies and student artwork.
The whispers grew even louder here, and it seemed like these older students weren’t afraid to show their curiosity.
A group of girls stood by their lockers, wearing matching silver bracelets that glinted in the light.
They huddled together, their phones raised to take photos of me.
The director didn't seem to notice, or maybe he just chose to ignore it.
He stopped in front of a classroom door that read "3-A" in bold letters.
He reached out for the handle, but then hesitated.
I held my breath as he pushed the door open.
The usual classroom chatter died instantly.
Twenty-five pairs of eyes turned toward me, and phones popped up from their desks like prairie dogs from their burrows.
The teacher, a middle-aged woman in a floral dress, stopped mid-sentence at the blackboard.
Her chalk hovered in the air, forgotten as she took in my presence.
In the back corner, one girl didn't even look up from her notebook.
She was sketching something with bright red hair that matched the color of her lips.
The director cleared his throat to break the silence.
"Class 3-A, please welcome your new classmate, Ethan Logan."
Someone dropped a pencil case.
A girl in the front row raised her hand, her eyes wide with curiosity.
"Is it true what they say about you, Ethan?" she asked, her voice a mix of excitement and disbelief.
I hesitated, glancing at the director for guidance, but he simply nodded, urging me to answer.
The classroom erupted into excited whispers and squeals.
Girls leaned forward in their seats, their phones still pointed at me like they were trying to capture a rare species.
I gripped the straps of my backpack tighter, scanning the room for an empty desk.
The teacher finally snapped out of her shock and gestured toward a seat in the middle of the room.
As I walked down the aisle, notes began flying between desks.
Before I even sat down, a folded paper landed on my new desk.
I glanced up to see who had thrown it, but everyone was looking away from me now.
Except one girl.
The red-haired girl in the back corner had finally looked up from her drawing, and she was staring at me with an unreadable expression.
I unfolded the note on my desk, trying to be discreet as the teacher continued to drone on about algebra.
The handwriting was sharp and angular, like it had been written with a ruler.
"Meet me behind the gym at lunch. I know why you're really here."
My hands started to sweat as I read the words.
I glanced back at the red-haired girl, who was now sketching again.
Her nameplate read "Ava," and she seemed completely absorbed in her drawing.
But when the bell rang, signaling the end of class, she was the first one out the door.
I gathered my things slowly, watching as Lily's group huddled together near the front of the room.
They whispered and giggled, their eyes darting toward me every so often.
When I finally stood up to leave, Lily's eyes met mine for a moment before she turned away.
As I walked out the door, I noticed something on my desk that hadn't been there before—Ava's sketchbook.
I hurried down the hallway, scanning the sea of faces for her distinctive red hair.
The sketchbook felt heavy in my hands, its worn cover decorated with intricate doodles and symbols.
Students parted around me like water as I walked, some openly filming me with their phones.
I caught a glimpse of Ava turning down the arts corridor and quickened my pace.
The sketchbook was thick, its pages stuffed with loose papers and scraps of artwork.
It felt like a window into her mind, full of secrets and dreams.
I rounded the corner just in time to see her slip into the art room.
Through the window in the door, I watched as she frantically searched her bag, no doubt realizing that her sketchbook was missing.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside, holding out the sketchbook as her eyes met mine.
She took it quickly, checking its contents before sliding it into her bag.
The art room was dimly lit, the afternoon sun casting long shadows through the windows.
Easels stood like sentinels, half-finished canvases perched on their wooden arms.
The air was thick with the smell of paint and charcoal, a heady mixture that made my head spin.
Ava glanced nervously at the window in the door, where other students were peeking in to see what was happening.
Then she stepped deeper into the room, weaving between half-finished canvases.
I followed her, noticing how her hands fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve.
She stopped by a table splattered with paint, and pulled out the note I'd received earlier.
She placed it between us, her eyes fixed on the paper.
"I wrote this," she said quietly.
I stood beside her, watching as her hands moved anxiously across the table.
The paper was creased from being folded, but I smoothed it out with my palm.
The handwriting was precise, almost architectural, as if each letter had been carefully drawn with a ruler.
Through the window in the door, I could see curious faces pressed up against the glass, their phones held up to capture every moment.
Ava's fingers drummed nervously against the wooden table, leaving faint marks in a layer of chalk dust.
I scanned the first line of the note—"I know why you're really here at Saint Catherine's"—and felt a tightness in my chest.
I leaned back against the paint-stained table, watching as Ava shifted uncomfortably beside me.
Her fingers continued to move restlessly, tracing patterns in the chalk dust on the table's surface.
Through the window in the door, I saw several phones held up, recording our conversation for posterity.
Their owners whispered excitedly to one another, their faces lit by the glow of screens.
Finally, Ava looked up, her green eyes meeting mine.
"Your dad," she started, her voice hesitant.
"He's investigating the school, isn't he?"
Her words sent a jolt through me, and I gripped the edge of the table tightly.
How had she figured it out?
I stared at her, my mind racing for a response.
Just as I was about to speak, there was a gentle knock at the door.
Through the window, I saw the janitor, Leo, holding his mop and bucket.
He looked up at me through the glass, his eyes filled with a quiet understanding.
I nodded slightly, and he slipped inside, closing the door behind him despite the protests of the crowd gathered in the hallway.
Leo moved quietly around the room, his eyes flicking from Ava to me and back again.
The other students watching through the window window scattered as he approached.
His weathered face wore a slight smile as he began to clean nearby.
He hummed softly under his breath, the sound almost inaudible beneath the murmur of whispers outside.
But then his eyes flicked up, meeting mine briefly.
He nodded slightly, as if confirming something to himself. I watched him closely, wondering what had just happened.
Then my eyes dropped to his mop bucket, where something small glinted in the dim light.
Leo continued cleaning around us, his movements slow and deliberate.
The paper slid across the floor until it reached my foot, and I bent down to pick it up without anyone noticing.
As I stood up again, I felt a strange sense of gratitude toward this quiet man who had just given me a secret message.
Leo continued working around us, moving with an unhurried pace that seemed almost meditative.
He cleaned every inch of the floor with slow deliberation, humming softly under his breath. Ava and I exchanged glances, our faces both pale in the dimly lit room.
Finally, Leo finished his work and left as quietly as he had arrived, closing the door behind him despite the protests of those waiting outside.
I leaned against the art room table, my hands trembling as I unfolded the crumpled note.
Ava peered over my shoulder, her breath catching as she saw what was on the paper.
The sketch was detailed, with precise pencil lines forming a maze-like network.
It showed the layout of our school, but with additional passages that I had never seen before—dotted lines running beneath classrooms and corridors.
Numbers marked specific locations, and a small X indicated what appeared to be an entrance near the old boiler room.
My eyes traced a path from the X to a larger chamber beneath the library.
The tunnel system seemed to converge beneath the school's oldest building, with narrow passages snaking off in every direction.
I studied the map closely, my finger following the route that ran beneath the kindergarten wing.
The path was narrow, marked with strange symbols that I couldn't recognize.
Ava leaned in closer, her breath hot against my neck.
She pointed to a small mark near their classroom, and I frowned as I realized what it was—a hidden entrance.
My stomach twisted as I thought of those innocent faces I had seen earlier, playing and laughing without a care in the world.
I folded the map quickly, stuffing it into my pocket before anyone else could see.
"I have to go," I muttered to Ava, making a hasty excuse about needing to use the bathroom.
She grabbed my arm as I turned away, her green eyes searching mine. "What's wrong?" she asked softly, her voice filled with concern.
I shook my head, pulling free from her grasp.
"I'll catch up with you later," I said quickly, hurrying out of the art room and into the hallway beyond.
The crowd of students waiting outside dispersed as I emerged, their faces falling as they realized I wasn't going to give them a show after all.
I ignored them, pulling out my phone as I walked down the corridor toward the bathrooms.
I paused just out of sight of the classrooms, my fingers flying across the screen as I typed out a message to my father.
"Dad," I wrote, "I think I found something. Meet me in your office ASAP."
I ducked into an empty classroom, my heart pounding as I waited for his response.
It came almost immediately, a brief message that made my stomach twist with anticipation.
"I'll be there," he wrote.
"See you soon."
I stared at the screen for a moment, my mind racing with possibilities.
Then I tucked the phone away and pulled out the map again, studying it more closely than before.
The tunnel system seemed to converge beneath the school's oldest building, with narrow passages snaking off in every direction.
I traced the route that ran beneath the kindergarten wing, my hands shaking as I wondered what secrets lay hidden beneath those innocent faces.
The weight of responsibility felt heavier now that Dad was involved, and I knew I had to be careful.
I couldn't let anyone else find out about this—not yet. Through the window, I saw Lily's silver-bracelet gang walking down the corridor, their phones held up like cameras.
They were heading straight for this classroom, and I knew I had to hide the map before they got here.
I folded it quickly and slipped it into my math textbook, my heart pounding in my chest.
Their footsteps echoed outside, growing louder with every passing second.
The door swung open, and Lily's voice cut through the silence. "What are you doing here all alone?" she asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.
I forced a casual smile, leaning back against the desk. "Just catching up on some homework," I replied, hoping she wouldn't notice the tension in my voice.
Lily tilted her head, her bracelet clinking softly. "Homework, huh? You sure you're not hiding something more interesting?"
I gripped the textbook tightly, the map hidden between its pages.
Lily leaned over my desk, her silver bracelet catching the fluorescent light.
"Maybe you're hiding a secret," she whispered, her voice husky.
Her friends shifted uncomfortably, their phones lowering as they watched.
But then a figure appeared in the doorway, and everything changed.
Ava stood there, her red hair framing a face set with quiet determination.
She walked between the empty desks toward us, her eyes locked on Lily.
"Ms. Chen wants to see you," she said, her voice firm and unyielding.
Lily stepped back, her eyes darting to Ava and then to me.
With a reluctant huff, she turned and left, leaving me and Ava alone in the charged silence.