BEAUTIFUL

TWO

Astoria

"You're violating Wycliffe Academy's dress code."

I hope this severely fashionably-challenged tramp still has a half-functioning brain, because if she had any sense of self-preservation, she would refrain from using such an impertinent tone when speaking to my sister.

A printed version of our timetable, as well as a copy of the school's pretentious pamphlet is tucked under my arm, my Jimmy Choo heels tap against the hardwood flooring of Wycliffe Academy's administration office, my patience running thin.

We're meant to simply acquire the needed paperwork from the administrators, meet with the principal, and have a quick tour of the school— And because of this beady-eyed moron, we haven't even made it past the first fucking step.

I suck in a breath, keeping in mind that I'm to be on my best behaviour and make a good first impression. Forcing a smiling, "What's wrong with what she's wearing?"

Wycliffe Academy doesn't quite have a set dress code— No mandatory dismal school uniforms or strict rules on how student's should be dressed. Student's are simply expected to show up looking neat and orderly, dressed in upscale clothing.

Azzy's wearing simple black skirt, that isn't even rolled might I add, a white button up blouse, and a white ribbon pulling her hair back. An outfit consisting of what seems like the simplest of basics, is actually all pieces of designer high-fashion clothing. Not at all bad of an outfit, considering we just got off a 7 hour flight.

The receptionist side-eyes me, before an overtly fake smile takes over her face. "Your sister is breaching rule 54 of section 7 in the Wycliffe Academy student handbook, which clearly states obnoxiously dyed hair is forbidden."

My face scrunches up in disbelief. Azalea has the back under-layer of her hair dyed a stunning silver colour, that you can only really see if her hair is tied up or pulled back— Which it just happens to be pulled back today.

The way the revolting receptionist eyes my sister makes my skin itch and my blood burn. Filled with nothing but judgment, the bitch makes no effort in hiding the fact that she's blatantly judging my sister.

I tilt my head, seeming confused as I say, "Then who's dick did you suck to get a job here, seeing as your hair looks like that."

Narrowing my eyes ever-so-slightly, I pointedly stare at the abomination growing out of her dandruff ridden scalp.

Though Azzy doesn't seem delighted whatsoever by my words. In fact, she nudges me slightly, wordlessly telling me to quit making a scene— August couldn't contain his amusement though, he laughed. Rather blatantly.

Her jaw drops open before she promptly shuts it, not at all expecting me to vocalize something so outright. "I beg your pardon?"

"Are you so acutely illiterate that you require me to repeat myself?" I remark, meeting her gaze with an unyielding glare.

A knock sounds at the door, catching our attention collectively. Slowly, my cousin's head of dirty blonde hair peaks into the room.

"Not to impose but what the fuck is taking so long?" Her chocolate eyes meeting mine briefly, a cheeky smile pulls on her lips before she fully steps into the room, 4 other people following her in.