Aella Diamantini's entire life changes when her father suddenly dies of cancer and she's forced to move from Los Angeles to a Victorian small city of billionaire in England, with her baby twin siblings, to live with her mother who abandoned her when...
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I skipped a week of school, it was the first time in my life I had done it, but it was either that, or looking haunted in school right after Christian "died by driving off a cliff after he left the De Vere Beauclerk's villa". It was that or seeing his twins.
To my siblings, I faked having a horrible stomach ache, which got them and everyone who didn't know the truth, scared and worried for me, or at least most pretended to, given how a big line of people in dad's family died of stomach cancer like he did. I was puking daily, but it wasn't because my stomach was sick given my genetic predisposition, but because of the memories of Christian's body being crushed.
Even after taking countless baths, I could still feel the blood being splattered on me, the remains attaching to my skin, the sound of the bones crushing.
But I swallowed my shit, because I don't have the luxury to worry my baby siblings with my newfound trauma, or to stop my entire life because of it. So, when October 14 rang its bells, I decided to act like nothing had happened, and as it's Monday and I have class at Stryker Prep Elite, I was up by 5 am, taking another long shower, and by 7 am I was putting on the uniform. It was an annoying change, the whole uniform thing.
Back in Cali, when my dad died and I had to moved with the twins to England, I was attending the first semester of my sophomore year at Riverside Stem Academy, one of the best highschools there, a public one. It wasn't in Los Angeles, it was in Riverside, so I had to take a bus at 5:50 am to be there at 7:30 am, and before that, I would always prepare my siblings breakfast, program their clock for them to wake up at 7 to take the bus at 8 that would come in front of the house, leave their lunch ready, and I would also iron their clothes of the day. But I could use whatever the hell I wanted.
I had to be an early bird, and now, even on weekends or when I could sleep on, my body automatically wakes up at 5:00 am, not a minute past or earlier than that.
But the thing is, I always hated the idea of uniforms, that's why I never wanted to go to a private school, through a scholarship or anything, I never wanted it. It wasn't about what I wanted though, which is why my oh-so-(un)gracious mother put me in this damned private academy that Tristan attends since he was 5 or something. An academy that's optionally boarding if you are a foreigner with a scholarship or just a foreigner, and it has kids from all over the world, all elite.
From the children of the president of the United States, to the kids of the high ups of the European Union, kids with royalty ties to England and China and Spain and African countries, to the heirs of the biggest millionaires and billionaires in the world. Spawns of the rawest privileges one could imagine, a real elite nest. One that gives you a ticket straight to Oxford, all Ivy Leagues, MIT, and all the goat universities globally.
Last I looked, counting me, there was a total of 5135 students enrolled in it, from 5 to 20 years old, because as an Elite Preparatory academy, they take students a bit further, with an even more advanced knowledge, which makes sure that you will get into a worldwide renowned university, and bring the name of the academy to an even higher height. For that, you either need to be a generational genius or have money to get into it, and mostly the students are in it thanks to the latter.
