It was a fabulous, breezy morning in New York. The sunrise was beautiful as always and the birds were singing instead of the cars. Leaves were already falling off the trees, getting ready for Autumn. The wind was blowing slowly as if it was dancing. Ivy Jenkins was not sleeping and getting ready to wake up as in romantic stories. No, she was already woken up, at 6 a.m. pacing hysterically in a circle in her room.
It was September 18th, the first day of school for students of Whiteford Private High School. The school was known as a remarkable one, full of bright students, with an astonishing amount of knowledge. It was said that the school was for people from wealthy families only, but a great number of students were going there thanks to their grades and work in their previous schools.
It was also the first day of Ivy in this school. Before 10th grade, she was learning in Robertsman's school, which was quite nice, but not as amazing as Whiteford High.
Now, she was looking at her uniform with an unemotional face. Her principal said that the uniforms for 10th graders were required only on the first day of school, special school activities and occasions, Mondays, and Thursdays, which was quite strange to imagine. She quickly looked at her schedule as well and then opened her grades sheet. She had straight As and 10s.
She slightly bit her lip and looked in the mirror again. Her brunette, wavy hair suited uniform pretty much. Her trousers were long and black, the shirt was white and had a logo for her new school.
Ivy had never been this nervous about anything, but now she was going to her city's most brilliant high school. What if everyone was too wealthy there? Or what if they would outsmart her? But no! She had to stay confident!
She then opened her phone to read good luck messages from her friends. She had many good friends from her old school, including Antonio Moretti and Olive Mayson. Her old best friend, Eleanor, was still never available. Where was she, what was she doing? Ivy had no clue. She was tired from trying to get information about her for a year. If it was a real friendship Eleanor wouldn't give up that easily...
Suddenly, she heard a knock on the door and a tall woman with curly, black hair and brown eyes walked inside her bedroom and sat beside her. It was Ivy's mom, Monica Reeds Jenkins. She had pale skin and extremely kind eyes.
-Are you nervous, my clever girl?-she kissed her child's forehead-You look absolutely beautiful.
-Thank you-Ivy whispered and put her phone on her bed-I am nervous a bit...I have to eat breakfast now though, I want to be early.
-Sure, come on, darling. Do sandwiches and pancakes sound good? Very great.
On their way to the kitchen, Ivy's father rushed from the bathroom to greet his daughter.
-My lovely teenager-he squeezed her hands-you look so amazing. I just...I cannot believe it. You are in 10th grade and are going to WHS...Come on, eat! You need a lot of energy. Are you going to walk there? It is 20 minutes away from our house as you know. Should I take you there? No, you are fine? Very well, my strong girl!
Thomas Jenkins was a tall man with brown hair and freckles. His hazel eyes were full of kindness and empathy. His beard was perfectly shaved and even though he was going into his 50s, he looked quite fit.
-My goodness, my daughter is going to the 10th grade. How do you feel?-Monica asked while pouring some coffee into the cup.
-Oh, you have no idea how aggressive I feel. I feel excited and interested, but also there is a strange feeling of...nothing. Really just nothing. I mean, WHS is the most expensive school in New York. What if I am not good enough?! Or what if...
-My dear-Monica looked at her deep in her eyes-you are enough. And you always will be.
