𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 [a rini au]

ONE

Ricky Bowen was not one for change. He had undergone too much of it in the past few months, so the last thing he needed was news that he would be transferring schools for his senior year. Ricky was a promising student, one with a solid academic foundation at his current public high school in Salt Lake City. He was puzzled as to why he was being ushered off to the east coast so spontaneously. The frosted state of Vermont certainly was not welcoming for a Utah native. Yet, here he was in the worn out backseat of an Uber, well on his way to the revered East Highland Academy.

          The nervous boy stared out his window at the greenery he sped past, observing just how different this scenery was from his back home. He was surprised that his eyes were willing to intuitively take in the Vermont environment, considering his cross-country flight at 5 am was enough to tire him out for the remainder of the day. While he picked apart the obscurities of his surroundings, Ricky's mind wandered back to where everything began – the traumatizing month of June.

          Ricky strolled into his home following the last day of his junior year much later than expected. He threw his backpack on the floor of the anteroom, striding for the kitchen. As he dug through the fridge, he almost didn't notice his mother and father impatiently sitting on the living room couch, eyes heatedly on the boy. After he grabbed a soda and popped the pull tab, he froze the drink at his lips once he saw the sight. "Hey, you guys," he hummed, lowering the can slowly.

         Ricky's mom pressed her lips together. "Honey, we need to talk."

         Brows knitting, Ricky wasn't fond of those words. All the possibilities ran through his brain, but one was the most prominent – the divorce is coming. Ricky circled around the kitchen counter and entered the living room, sitting at the edge of the wooden coffee table before his parents. "What's going on?" he questioned, rubbing his palms nervously on his khaki shorts.

         "Your mother and I have been discussing this for a while now, and we have decided that this is what's best for you and our family," his father began, Ricky body tensing. Here it comes, his mind whispered. "We've officially enrolled you at East Highland Academy."

         Ricky released a scoff, racking his brain for the name's possible familiarity. "Where is that?" he asked, unable to identify the place. "East of Salt Lake, I'm assuming?" the boy let out a laugh.

         Lynne swallowed hard, eyeing at Mike to continue. "No," Mike answered solemnly. "It's a boarding school in Vermont. You're going to be a student there next year."

         Ricky's lips fell open faster than he could jump up from the coffee table. "What?!" he screeched, taking his parents aback. "A boarding school in Vermont? For what reason?"

         "You know your dad and I are really struggling in our marriage," Lynne added soothingly despite the weight of the sentence. "We don't want you stuck in the middle of this toxicity, so sending you away to school will benefit you immensely. Besides, it's a nationally ranked boarding school that is known for producing successful students. You would be a perfect fit, and we know that our fighting recently has hindered your productivity in school. This is an opportunity for you to flourish, find a fantastic college."

          "I don't want that!" Ricky shrieked, flailing his arms. "I don't want to be away from you. I'm fine here! Yeah, it gets tough sometimes, I won't lie, but I'm not letting you guys ship me off to the east coast because you think your marriage is negatively affecting your own son."

          Mike stood as well, releasing an exasperated sigh as he rested a hand protectively on Ricky's shoulder. Ricky met his father's eyes with fury. "It's not up for debate, kid," Mike asserted. "I know it's overwhelming to hear right now, but we wanted to let you know as soon as possible so you can prepare."

          "This will be good for you, Ricky," Lynne rose too, cupping her son's face in her hands. "Senior year is an important one. We don't need you here getting distracted by your dad and I's problems."

          "I'm not distracted," Ricky huffed, shaking his head to remove Lynne's touch. "I'm happy here. It's gonna be my senior year. I have so much to look forward to."

          Mike sighed. "I know, but you're just shocked right now. I promise, like your mother said, this will be really good for you."

         Ricky shrugged his father's hand off of his shoulder with a groan. "I don't think either of you really know what's good for me," he ended defiantly before brushing past his parents and stomping upstairs.

          "Alright, we've arrived," Ricky's Uber driver announced as they pulled through intricate, bronze gates. Ricky removed himself from his thoughts, focusing on what was now in front of him. The gate entryway led to a giant, open campus, buildings rustic and gothic with moss lining the detailing. The grass appeared slightly dead from the summer heat, but it was still a shade of vibrant green. There were trees everywhere, almost completely obstructing the gray sky above. How appropriate, Ricky thought pessimistically. Emphasizes the fact that I'm trapped here.

          The car drove down windy roads that traveled through the ancient campus until it arrived at a stone statue of an old man. The creation was erected in a circular patch of grass bordered with matching stone. It stood in front of one of the larger buildings on the campus, a lengthy banner reading Welcome Back, Leopards! painted in calligraphic lettering strung across the front. The driver joined the long line of other cars in the oval drive through, various students towards the front jumping out of their cars and rushing into the building that Ricky assumed could only be the home of Administration. It took over ten minutes for his car to reach the front of the building, but once it did, Ricky was hesitant to get out.

          "Have a great semester," the driver wished the boy, unlocking the doors for him. "My cousin went here a few years ago. It's a great school."

         Ricky gulped, hands wrapping reluctantly around the door handle. He faced his driver, giving him a tiny nod. "Thanks, man," he forced a close-lipped smile before taking a deep breath and exiting the vehicle with his carry-on in hand. He clutched his backpack straps strongly, staring up at this intimidating building with heaviness in his heart.

          This is it, Ricky, his conscience spoke, begging for his feet to start moving.

          Senior year, here we come.