I stare down at my uniform that my aunt pressed to perfection and the adorable black ballerina flats — a present from Uncle Jaxon. The blue skirt is tight at my waist and flares down to a little above my knees where my thigh-high stockings accentuate my tall legs.
My white button-down shirt is tucked into the skirt’s high-waist. A dark blue ribbon snakes around my neck like a dainty tie. I also wear the obligatory school jacket on which the school’s golden symbol is engraved; a shield, a lion, and a crown.
My white-ish blonde hair falls in a fluffy ponytail down my back. I went out of my way by applying a bit of makeup. The mascara enhances my eyelashes and brings out my baby blue eyes. I even put on Aunt’s Nina Ricci perfume.
Today is the day that determines my life for the next three years. Hell, it’ll determine my life afterwards if – when – I get into Cambridge, so I needed to do everything right.
As I stride through the school’s huge, stony arch, I try to mimic the other students’ confidence. It’s hard when I already feel like an outsider. Students here wear their pristine uniforms as if they’re made from gold-soaked cloth. The aura of high, mighty, and a bit snobby drifts from every chatter and measured step.
Ninety per cent of Royal Elite School attended Royal Elite Junior prior to this. They chat amongst each other like old friends reuniting after the summer while I stand out as a loner.
Again.
An itch starts under my skin and spreads along my hands. My breathing deepens and my steps turn forceful as memories filter back in.
Poor thing.
Did you hear what happened to her parents?
Heard she’s a charity case by her aunt and uncle.
I shake those voices away and forge through. This time, I’m determined to blend in. No one here knows about my past, and unless they specifically search me, they wouldn’t.
Elsa Quinn is a new person.
By the entrance, I spot a student who’s avoiding the crowd by sneaking her way along the side pathway leading to the huge double doors. I notice her because I was also contemplating the same path.
While I’d love to fit in, crowds cause that familiar itch to rise under my skin.
The loner’s skirt is bigger. She’s on the thick side and has the roundest, cutest features I’ve seen on a girl my age. With her huge rounded eyes, plump lips and braided long brown hair, she almost looks like a child.
And she’s the first presence in this school that doesn’t give me the ‘untouchable’ vibe.
I catch up to her and match her fast-walking pace. “Morning.”
Her head snaps my way, but she soon stares at her feet and tightens her grip on the strap of her messenger bag.
“I’m sorry.” I offer my most welcoming smile. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Perhaps she’s one of the new kids here, too, and feels intimidated.
“You shouldn’t be talking to me,” she whispers under her breath. Even her voice is cute.
“Why not?”
She stares at me for the first time with eyes so green, they nearly sparkle like a tropical sea. “Wow. You have beautiful eyes.”
“T-thanks.” Her lips curve into a tentative smile as if she shouldn’t be doing the smiling thing. She kicks imaginary rocks as she speaks. “You’re too pretty, you shouldn’t be talking to the school’s outcast.”
“Outcast?” I echo, incredulous. “There’s no such thing as an outcast. If I want to talk to you, I will.”
She troubles her bottom lip and I swear, I’m itching to pinch her adorable cheeks.
“Are you new here, too?” I ask, instead of acting like a creep on the first meeting.
She shakes her head. “I studied in REJ.”
“REJ?”