𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙊𝙣𝙚: 𝙍𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

I stood at the imposing wrought-iron gates of Ashwood Academy, the crisp autumn air nipping at my cheeks. Before me loomed the grand edifice, a striking blend of Gothic architecture and ivy-clad stone, its turrets piercing the slate-grey sky. I clutched my satchel tightly, its familiar weight a small comfort amid the apprehension swirling within me. I was determined to blend into the fabric of this prestigious institution rather than stand out.

As the gates clanged shut behind me, sealing me within this sanctuary for the academically ambitious, a wave of unease washed over me. I had spent months preparing for this year, intent on evading the scrutiny that often accompanied new beginnings. This time, I wanted to fly under the radar-focus on my studies, avoid the distractions of social entanglements, and secure a place at a distinguished university.

Navigating the cobbled pathway lined with ancient oaks, I couldn't help but think of the whispers that often accompanied newcomers. The academy was rife with social hierarchies, and I had no desire to become embroiled in their intricate webs. My plan was simple: keep my head down and immerse myself in my studies.

Upon entering the bustling atrium, I was enveloped in the vibrant chatter of students and the sharp, inviting scent of polished wood mingling with fresh parchment. The high ceilings were adorned with intricate plasterwork, and sunlight streamed through tall arched windows, casting a warm glow on the polished floor. It was both intimidating and exhilarating-a world of opportunity teetering on the brink of chaos.

As I glanced around, my gaze was drawn to a figure at the far end of the room. Mr. Callum Greer stood by the faculty lounge, his posture relaxed yet commanding. He was deep in conversation with a colleague, his dark hair tousled and his expressive hands animated as he spoke. Even from a distance, I could sense an aura of quiet intensity surrounding him, a magnetism that made it difficult to look away.

I quickly averted my gaze, my heart racing inexplicably. It was absurd to feel such a reaction toward a teacher, yet something about him-perhaps the way his eyes seemed to hold secrets or the subtle confidence he exuded-stirred an unfamiliar sensation within me. Shaking off my thoughts, I moved towards my first class, determined to concentrate on the syllabus rather than the inexplicable flutter in my chest.

As the bell tolled, announcing the start of the day, I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the academic challenges ahead and found myself rummaging through my bag, desperately eager to locate my rather diminutive pencil case. To my dismay, it was nowhere to be found. How had I managed to arrive on my first day of school without any writing implements? I peered inside again, hoping it had merely slipped between my lunch and my textbooks.

Just then, a blue-tinted pencil was placed gently upon my temporarily bare, open notebook. I looked up to find the smiling eyes of a stunning blonde girl gazing back at me. Her enthusiasm was infectious, to the point that it almost irked me.

"Oh, thanks..." I mumbled, and her smile only widened in response.

"You're welcome! I saw you struggling to find one, so I thought I'd introduce myself and offer my good intentions by giving you a pencil. May I sit beside you?"

Before I could respond, she had already settled herself to my left, leaving absolutely no space between us. There went my plan of maintaining a low profile.

"My name is 𝑨𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚. 𝑨𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝑩𝒆𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒂𝒎." She extended her hand, waiting expectantly for me to introduce myself in kind.

"𝑬𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆. 𝑬𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒅. Pleasure to meet you." I endeavoured to match her exuberance, my voice reflecting the same buoyancy she exuded.