The School for the Elite

Chapter 4: A Disastrous Beginning

I slept horribly yesterday. While I was brushing my teeth, that nasty headache returned. It was so bad I actually did bang my head against the wall to try and make it stop. All I got in return was a light bruise on my forehead.

I have a quick breakfast, a banana, and am about to run out the door with my backpack. Before I head out, though, I grab a little container of Advil and shove them in my bag, in case my headache returns in school. I race to the elevator, only to see it's still out of order, and hurry to the stairs.

I live roughly an hour away from school, so I have to wake up at 5:30 am, get dressed, and depart from my house at exactly 5:55 am. I then have to speed walk and, if the street lights choose to vex me, I have to sprint at certain intervals. 

I finally make it outside and know that the true race against time begins here. 

~•~

I freeze right before I enter the school gates to straighten my skirt and fix my shirt. I then take a few breaths, so as to make myself look like I had been taking a slow, facile walk and was methodically on time (like I always am). I put on a pleasant yet somewhat serious face, then walk briskly through the school gates. I greet a few students and stop outside of my English teacher's office.

"Ms. Helden," I say, not as a question but more as a request for her attention. 

She raises her gaze from her laptop, where she was speedily typing away, "Yes, ah, Vesper?" she says, not halting her perfunctory and hasty typing.

"My essay," I say, not wanting to speak further until she looked at me. "I have it for you."

Ms. Helden stops typing and looks over her computer at me.

"Vesper, that's not due for another week. I don't appreciate you trying to hand in some half-hearted work. Go and put some effort into your writing, please, and give it to me on the actual due date, which is a week from yesterday." She tightens her lips, then goes back to typing.

I stand there, slightly stunned, but also a bit relieved, for I had prepared myself for something like this to happen.

"Ms. Helden," I say again, stepping into her office. "I am done. I have nothing more I want to improve or remove." I slowly lay the essay down on her desk, and continue, "Please review it. I will wait for my grade." 

Ms. Helden looks somewhat solemn, as if I had just committed some grave sin. Her mouth tightens into an even thinner line, her lips disappearing. She removes her glasses and lowers them onto the table, her hands resting on her desk.

"Vesper," she says sternly, "do not be cocky. Work done in a rushed manner such as yours is bound to be missing necessary details. I'm giving you one last warning. Take this essay off my desk immediately, fix it, then come back in a week's time and hand it in like everyone else. I refuse to accept this work made by someone with a conceited mind." 

I cough, slightly caught off guard, but I understand where she's coming from. But I did my research well, and I know for a fact that this essay is definitely worthy of submission. 

"I am not arrogant, miss," I hesitate for a moment, gathering my thoughts, and continue, "Well, maybe a little bit. But I can say that I am confident in the work I have produced, and you cannot reject your own assignment." I pivot on my heel and walk out the door, leaving the essay behind.

The halls in the school are a very pale blue, and the lockers are a dull gray. I walk towards my locker and enter a combination, collect my books, and head towards my first class, math. As I am walking, I suddenly feel as if someone punched my skull, shaking my mind. I drop my books in the middle of the hall and clutch my head, my vision becoming obscured. I see spots of green and yellow, orange and blue. I close my eyes shut and crouch on the ground. I hear the faint sound of whispering, as students clump together and comment on my current appearance. 

"Hey, isn't that the student council president? What the heck is she doing?" I hear someone say to my left.

"What is this, some mental breakdown? Class hasn't even started yet..." said a male voice in front of me, maybe a few feet away, to a friend who snickered in response.

I try to collect my books and stand, my vision becoming exceedingly blurry until I can barely see in front of me. I walk slowly into to nearest classroom, for it looks somewhat like my math room, and take a seat in the back. 

A few moments later, a woman walks into the room. She is carrying a stack of neatly stapled packets. I wonder if maybe she's a substitute for our math class today.

"Welcome to the class twelve calculus two math assessment, the final assessment of the advanced math group this term. I will be your proctor. On the last ten pages of the test, there is the nation's yearly math competition. Please complete as much of the competition test as you can, but do not put it before your actual test. Although, I am hoping to see at least one of you finish the test for the competition."

She tightens her already airtight bun and tucks a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. I realize all too late I am in the wrong place and begin to stand to explain my situation when she turns to face me, her complexion going from serious to solemn. 

Before I can speak, she says out loud to the class again, "See this girl? She wants to stand up, to speak, right before a moment that may determine the college you go to." the teacher now glares at me. "Sit down, girl. We don't have much time for the test to begin with, and you so rudely want to strip away some of it so that you may let some probably useless words escape your mouth." She looks around as if daring anyone else to speak. Of course, no one does, although some kids shift uncomfortably in their seats.

The woman nods, not at anyone in particular, and begins handing out papers face down. When she finishes handing out papers, she stands at the front of the room again, her eyes sharp, and her tone even sharper. 

"You may begin... now."