I
valiantly spooned some
eggs into my mouth,
my mom watching
closely. They tasted
like
cardboard, which I
knew was more me
than her cooking.
Nevertheless, I
managed to eat about
half before I couldn’t
take it anymore.
I figured if I had to go
anyway, I might as
well
just hurry up and finish
this day up.
“Ok, I’m heading out,” I
said, slinging my bag
over my shoulder. “I’ll
see you later.”
“Have a good day,
honey. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
When I got outside, I
was relieved to see
that even though the
sky was overcast, it
wasn’t raining—yet.
Hopefully it won’t until
I’m safe and warm
inside Valesca’s walls
—
safe being a relative
term.
I guess now is a good
time to back up and
explain everything to
you. My name is Maya
Lindberg, and up until a
year ago, I was happily
living in New York City
with my parents, doing
all the things a normal
teenager does and
attending a normal high
school that, while it
had
its clique problems,
was
paradise compared to
Valesca.
Unfortunately, my dad
got a promotion at his
company which
required
him to move to
Valesca, and as a
result, my whole family
had to uproot itself and
settle into one of the
richest towns in the
US.
Now, that wouldn’t be
so bad, if it wasn’t for
Valesca Academy.
Though considered the
best school in the
country, it’s filled with
the snobbiest, most
superficial, most
materialistic people I’ve
ever met in my entire
life. What makes it all
the more worse is the
way they all cower
before the Scions, who
are a whole other story
unto themselves.
The Scions is the
nickname given to the
four hottest guys in
school: Zack Perry,
Carlo
Tevasco, Parker
Remington, and their
leader, Roman Fiori.
Their families, some of
the wealthiest in the
world, actually founded
the town and the
school, which means
everyone, from school
administrators to the
police, is terrified of
them. They usually
keep to themselves,
unless they are
terrorizing some poor
kid who looked at them
the wrong way.
I’m not even kidding
about that. One wrong
look at any of the
Scions and you might
as
well kiss your social,
and sometimes
academic, life goodbye.
The abuse wrought by
the rest of the
students on the
offender is so
notoriously horrible
most are forced to
transfer schools.
As for me? Well, I’ve
never had a direct run-
in
with the Scions. It took
me all of one class
period when I started
here last year to realize
how things worked,
and
I had gone out of my
way to avoid their
attention.
Astonishingly, it
worked. I’ve never
been
closer than fifty feet
to
them, which is
definitely a good thing.
I
mean, it might seem
cowardly to some, but
I
know the Scions had
the school faculty
eating out of the palms
of their hands, and I
didn’t want to risk
doing
something that might
provoke their wrath, or
there goes my
teacher’s
recommendations and
my dream of attending
Stanford, my future,
goodbye.
Avoiding them is
actually a lot easier
than it sounds,
considering they had
their own classroom,
where they came and
went as they pleased;
their own private nook
in the dining area, and a
mass of students
surrounding them
whenever they went.
I took a deep breath as
Valesca’s perfectly
manicured campus
came into view. I could
do this. Just one more
year, and I would be on
my way to college, and
my experience here
would have just been a
bad dream.
I was annoyed but
unsurprised to see the
crowd gathered on the
flight of stairs that led
to the entrance.
Everyone was laughing
and hugging after an
oh-so-taxing summer
apart at their parents’
villas in the south of
France (note the
sarcasm) but they
were all casting
surreptitious glances at
the four empty, prime
parking spots in the
parking lot.
Directly in front of the
school and slightly
separated from the
rest of the spaces,
those were reserved
for the Scions. On
normal days, they
usually carpooled two
and two, but on the
first day, they always
liked to make a grand
entrance, each in his
own overly priced
sportsmobile. During
the
other school days, of
course, two of those
spots would remain
empty, since no one
would ever dare park in
one of them.
To be continue
