Page 18 of King

“More like a squad of sheepy shitheads,” Nate mumbles. “Sebastien King funded most of this place. The minute his devil child set foot into ERA he felt like it was his castle to claim. So he did. Kind of like the rest of this godforsaken town.”

“It's bullshit," Allie waves Nate off with chipped purple nails, her eyes on my schedule. "You're not really blacklisted because you’ve got us! So, enough about them. Ready for the tour?”

Nate stands up straight, Allie pushing an arm into her beige tote bag, “Save the Planet” stamped on it in black. She hands me another blouse and leads the way, Damien's crew disappearing around a brick wall.

I thought this place couldn’t get more mind-blowing but it does. Elite Royal Academy is more than the large main building, it’s a collection of them. Each looking as grandiose and spotless as the next. Behind the campus is Eden Lake where Nate tells me the school’s rowing team has regular practices. He winks as I follow them out into a large open space, a fountain right in the middle.

Stone benches sit scattered between chess tables in a garden. A variety of flowers surrounding the space. Some I recognize from the grocery store, others I’ve never seen in my life. Students sit and laze on the lush green field around it, their eyes on me when they notice I’m there.

“There she is.”

“Wonder how long she’ll last?”

“Is she dating Allie?”

“Trash.”

Ignoring them, I tune into Allie’s tour. “The freshmen and sophomores have most of their classes on the west wing of the campus.” Allie points to the left side of the garden. “Us juniors and the seniors are on the east. Top floors are seniors only.”

Next is one of the bazillion bathrooms where I stop to change my shirt. Even that seems more glamorous than a school bathroom needs to be. The walls are some sort of dark stone, a large clean mirror in front of brass taps. Each stall has a literal door in front, black with brass handles, not those cheap metal partitions I’m used to. Once inside, I’m quick to swap shirts and fluff my hair, Allie leaning on the door outside.

“Ew, freak,” a girl’s voice comes from outside the stall.

Allie doesn’t seem bothered, rattling something off in Spanish.

Is Allie on the blacklist too? If that’s the case, I have no problem hanging with the school’s social rejects. They seem a hell of a lot nicer than the rest of these idiots.

Once I’m done, Allie and Nate start pointing out rooms and locations as we move down hallways that all look the same. Shiny floors. More cases of trophies and medals. More giant wooden plaques.

They point out one of two pools. A Performance Centre with an auditorium bigger than the Glendale theatre. Science labs that look like they’re from the future. Cooking classes with kitchens fit for high-end dining. They even have nurse training courses with real equipment. No wonder the rich get ahead so easily.

My head is a blur by the time Allie points down a long hallway. Instead of more brick, these walls are forest green, the same colour as the blazers and kilts.

“Locker rooms are down there.” There's a window next to it and she points to a large building. “And that’s the sports complex. We have outdoor fields for volleyball and football. But basketball, tennis, and ERA’s claim to fame, hockey, are all inside.”

I blink in the direction of her finger as the bell chimes. This place is like a fucking city.

“Ugh, the torture begins,” Nate groans. “I’ll catch you lovely ladies at lunch?”

We wave good-bye to Nate, Allie glancing at my schedule. “I’ll take you to your locker. Your homeroom is nearby.”

She leads me down another couple of hallways before we’re in front of my own wooden locker. The inside is as glossy as the outside with ample space.

“I’ve got to go.” Allie glances at the black smartwatch on her wrist. “But we have Algebra together next period so I’ll see you there. Your homeroom is English, down this hallway.” She points to my right before handing my schedule back to me. “First door on the left.”

Without a minute to take it all in, I move in the direction Allie directs me, waving good-bye. I’m super grateful for her and Nate. They seem like they hold their own in this school, despite the “Supreme Squad” and their flying monkeys.

English is my first class. I’m happy to have one of the only subjects I’m comfortable with at the top of my schedule. Checking the golden number on top of the door, I make my way into Room 116. A green chalkboard sits behind a large brown desk, “Mr. Hill” in white chalk. There's a coffee mug on the desk but no teacher in sight.

The chatter lowers as eyes start turning my way.

“The Archibalds gave them a free ride.”

“I hear she gives head for a fiver.”

“Her parents were crackheads.”

I glare at the kid who mentioned my parents before I spot an empty seat in the back. My usual. Far away from everyone. When I slink into the chair everyone just stares and I’m starting to feel like I’ve grown a third tit. Rolling my eyes I reach into my backpack, pulling out my notebook and hoping for a distraction.

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