The Girl With The Scholarship

New World

The car ride into Manhattan felt surreal. Lena Hart gazed out the window, watching the towering buildings and bustling streets grow closer as they entered the city. She had never seen anything like it. Back in Crestwood, the tallest structures were the old church steeple and the high school bleachers. Here, skyscrapers pierced the sky, their glass facades reflecting the clouds. The streets buzzed with activity, cars honking, and people hurrying along the sidewalks, each one seemingly absorbed in their own world.

Lena had worked her entire life for this moment. The scholarship to Rosewood Academy was a ticket out of Crestwood, out of the tiny, worn-down apartment she shared with her mother, and out of the relentless cycle of worry and financial strain that had defined her existence for as long as she could remember. Rosewood was one of the most prestigious private schools in the country. Graduating from there could mean a future Lena had only dreamed of.

But as the car pulled up to the grand gates of Rosewood Academy, doubt crept in. The school looked like something out of an old movie, a sprawling Gothic structure of stone and ivy, its turrets and arched windows exuding a sense of history and wealth. Lena felt small and out of place as she stepped out of the car, clutching the strap of her second-hand backpack. Her mother had taken on an extra shift just to afford that backpack, even though it was used. The least Lena could do was to make the most of this opportunity.

A few other students were arriving at the same time, stepping out of sleek, black cars driven by uniformed chauffeurs. They didn't spare Lena a second glance as they breezed past her, their expensive shoes clicking against the cobblestones. They wore the school uniform with effortless style—pleated skirts, blazers, and polished shoes. Lena's uniform, though neatly pressed, felt stiff and foreign.

She took a deep breath and walked through the gates, her heart pounding in her chest. The campus opened up before her, a vast courtyard surrounded by stately buildings. Students milled about in small groups, talking and laughing, their voices mingling with the rustle of leaves in the breeze. The air smelled crisp, with a hint of autumn, though the city's ever-present hum lingered in the background.

Lena followed the signs toward the administrative building, trying to look confident, though she felt anything but. Inside, the hallways were wide and lined with portraits of stern-looking men and women in old-fashioned attire. The walls seemed to whisper of the generations of privilege and power that had walked these halls before her.

The admissions office was bustling with new students and their parents. Lena waited in line, feeling more out of place with each passing minute. When it was finally her turn, the woman behind the desk barely glanced up as she handed Lena her schedule and a map of the campus.

"Your dorm is in West Wing Hall. Orientation is in the main auditorium at nine. Don't be late," she said, her tone clipped and efficient.

Lena nodded, clutching the papers to her chest as she stepped out of the office. West Wing Hall was one of the older buildings, located at the far end of the campus. The walk there was nerve-wracking. She passed more groups of students, some of whom cast curious glances her way. A few girls in particular seemed to look her up and down, their gazes lingering on her simple clothes and the lack of designer labels. Lena tried to ignore them, keeping her eyes fixed on the map in her hand.

When she finally reached West Wing Hall, she was relieved to find it relatively quiet. The building had a stately charm, with high ceilings and tall windows that let in streams of light. Her dorm room was on the third floor, at the end of a long, narrow corridor. She pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The room was small but comfortable, with two beds, two desks, and a large window overlooking the courtyard. One side of the room was already occupied. Expensive-looking clothes were neatly hung in the closet, and a collection of framed photographs sat on the desk, showing a group of girls in glamorous outfits at various exotic locations. Lena couldn't help but feel a pang of envy.