Adler | The Aces of St.Sinclair BOOK 1.

Disarray | A NINE

My brain was telling me that clearly, there was something off about Amina Pahlavi but I ignored all the red flags because I wanted her to remain golden in my eyes. She was innocent until proven undeniably guilty.

Leaving me only left to face the three boys I'd decided to dine with. The stares by peers had subsided but that didn't mean it wasn't going to be a topic later on.

The Aces were obviously used to attracting attention and had casually delved into conversation like it was any other day.

"So where did you disappear to at the badminton court?" Will questioned Garren. "Coach Anderson looked closed to popping a vein."

"Yeah, it's funny when that happens." chuckled Ben.

"That man needs to know how to calm the hell down. Makes a fuss over nothing," claimed Garren.

"Or maybe, just maybe it's because you walked out during him talking without a single word," replied Will. "So come on, where'd you go?"

"Shepherd's office. I wanted her to get Michael off my back about the stupid quiz game thing," he answered with a sigh.

"And?"

"Pointless. The hag insisted it would be good for me to go for something fun instead of the regular serious contests and it would boost my image appeal." Garren rolled his eyes.

"I think she has a point," I spoke up.

Defending the crazy headmaster was the last thing I wanted but it was true.
"Involving myself in things like this will only convert my image," Garren argued. "Game shows like that are just for the public's entertainment; common folk. The questions will all be amateur level with silly razzle dazzle added to please the masses' pathetic attention span. The public eye will think I enjoy contests on a playful scene as well."

"Don't you?" I questioned.

"Hell no,” Garren denied. "What I enjoy is challenge and crushing the soul of my opponents."

I rolled my eyes and took a jab at my beef with my fork.

"There's no gain when it's easy,” the soul crusher complained.

"Sorry," Will said but he hardly sounded apologetic. "Guess you're going whether you like it or not."

Garren's frown deepened. "That Michael has gotten a lot of nerve these days. Who does he think he is to be bossing me about?"

"Um, he's the captain," Will reminded him. "That's literally in the job description."

"Well it needs to change." Garren muttered, a brooding visage as he focused on his lunch.

"How would you change that?" asked Ben.

"If I knew, I wouldn't be stuck having to participate in some dumb game show now would I?"

Ben shrunk back in his seat at Garren's harsh tone, meekly bringing his grape juice to his silenced lips.

My chewing became strenuous, not appreciating the subject. It made me think back to what I'd seen by the clubhouse earlier and I seriously didn't want to.

"Look on the bright side,” started Will. "We'll be broadcasted on a major network station and getting cued by a classic comedian instead of the regular boring old men in designer label suits that'll live longer than they will."

"Yeah, cool." chirped Ben. "Imagine getting awarded a trophy by Michael McIntyre or something." His face lighting up in excitement.

"Uh, that's only if we win, Ben," I reminded him.