Chapter Four

My dormitory was shared with a girl whose last name was Emelark, a mostly silent girl with shockingly red hair, and a girl named Hannah Etena that never stopped talking. They both treated me with indifference, ignoring me at every turn.
My first week at Celeste was not pleasant. Marella seemed to have made it her mission to humiliate and destroy me. And I daresay she almost succeeded, especially when the Deasena boy joined her. Her two friends, Kaitlyn and Janet, were just as bad. They tripped me, hid my books, ‘accidentally’ dropped tomato sauce on my uniform at dinner, and once they ransacked my trunk. Nobody seemed to want to stand up to them, especially since Marella was an angel in the teacher’s eyes.
My schoolwork was steadily dropping in quality. In history, I reduced the teacher to tears by saying that King George of England was the king of China. In English, I misspelled every word in my test and forgot all my grammar rules. In science, I was given detention for adding the wrong chemicals and setting the classroom on fire. My only escape was mathematics. My math teacher quickly advanced me to her honor student, and I did much more complicated work while my classmates worked on their Algebra.
Letters from home did little for my misery. Sarah and Daniel wrote nearly every day, but every time I saw Sarah’s neat script or Daniel’s fancy scrawl, I only wished I were back home with them. Once I couldn’t take it and started to cry, but luckily no one saw me.
I noticed in a few days that I had fallen for Travis Deasena. Whenever I saw him, my stomach felt like it had butterflies, and my heart rammed in my chest. I knew he would never talk to me, after all he was Marella’s boyfriend. In class, he would hang out with Adrian Versel, a good looking boy who was always flirting with some girl or another. I sometimes tried to catch Travis’s eye, but he never noticed, nor, (I thought sadly) cared.
Only two girls in my year didn’t torture me. One was named Cleyra Seruna, the other Aquamarine Menai. Cleyra was also treated badly by Marella for beating her in an English test the year before. She had spread a rumor that Cleyra was a cheater and since the teacher’s answer key had disappeared, everybody believed it. Then she was later called a cross dresser, for always wearing the boys’ uniform slacks instead of skirts. Aquamarine was branded for being her best friend, and so called accomplice, but neither of the girls were bothered by these accusations.
Cleyra was tall for her age, had amazingly dark black short hair and piercing green eyes. She was top of nearly every class, but she didn’t like to admit it, especially since she and Aquamarine were constantly getting into detention together. Aquamarine was also tall, with black hair and blue highlights. Her eyes were also blue, and very clear. She was loud and a little annoying in class. They both wandered around school with their small group of friends which ranged from seventh to tenth graders. The youngest of these was Ayden Renals, the brown-haired girl who had jeered at Marella on the first day. She and her friend Elizabeth Lasset were always pulling pranks, most of which were harmless and a good laugh on a boring day. The eldest were Sapphire Mason, Damian Fonreir, and Brendan Caboret, all sophomores and fifteen years old. It was rumored that Sapphire was extremely wealthy, but nobody had any proof. It was true, however, that on their birthdays, her friends always received something very expensive. Besides this, she was modest and kind, never making fun of anyone. This group of friends somewhat interested me, especially since every single one of them was despised by Marella and her friends.
After two weeks of solid torture, I was being called a thief to my face. Every time something went missing, the blame was always pointed to me. It seemed I would never escape my past.

Halfway through September, my English teacher, Mr. Winters, announced to the class something of importance.
“Class, next week we will be taking a very important test, if you do not pass, you will be taking English at middle school level for the rest of the year,” he said, and I noticed that he looked in my direction as he said this. I slid lower into my chair.
“Make sure to study hard and ask for help if you need it!” he said looking at me again. I had always refused to ask for help in my work.
“Class dismissed,” he said, and I was one of the first to leave the room.
For two days I struggled with my English work, going to the library during my free time, sometime skipping meals for a little extra time. I asked my math teacher if I could study during her class, I even got up at night with a book and flashlight and went out into the grounds for quiet. But by the weekend, I felt I still hadn’t learned enough for the test, and I refused to ask for help I would not get.
By Sunday, I was panicking. The test was on Tuesday, and I barely remembered anything. On Monday morning, I was shaking with nerves at breakfast. I literally dropped most of my milk down my blouse and had to run up to my room and change. I was determined not to cry; I had had enough of crying.
Tuesday came, and Mr. Winters’ class was silent as he passed out the test. As soon as I saw the first question, I knew I had failed. What the hell is a hyperbole? I thought.
For the next hour, I tried my best to answer the tedious questions, but as I packed up to leave, I felt a mixture of relief and regret. Instead of heading to the dining hall for lunch, I walked to the grounds for some time alone.
The school grounds were large, and there were many trees dispersed here and there among the grass. I randomly picked one before slumping against it and dropping my book bag carelessly on the ground. For what seemed like hours, I sat there alone and undisturbed, until I saw that the sun was gone and I’d be in trouble if I weren’t in bed.
The English classroom was on my way up to the dormitories, and as I passed it I felt a pang of shame. I was about to keep walking when I saw a figure move inside. I could tell that it wasn’t a girl, because I couldn’t see the ruffle of a skirt as they moved, but it didn’t seem to move like a boy either. I was trying to take a closer look when the curfew bell rang and I rushed upstairs to bed.

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