Chapter 4: Royal Family Jewels

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Left, right, left, kick, right, left, right, kick, I say in my head as I pound at the punching bag with all my might. Glancing back to the clock on the wall I see it reads 5:30, I've been at this for thirty minutes and am sweating more than Celia on exam day. Placing my hands above my head I take in slow steady breaths and plop on the floor. Since nightmares had woken me up at four this morning I decided to clear my mind a bit. Since running in the dark wasn't an option I decided to try out Joshua's punching bag for the first time. As sweat runs down my back and my muscles burn I soon realize it was a mistake.

Tiptoeing back up the stairs I step into the shower and let the cool water wash off all the grime and heat from my body. My mind wanders to millions of places and before I know it it's 6:15 and Joshua is banging on the door asking me when I'll be out.
"In a minute!" I shout to him and slide out of the shower. After my morning routine and a few arguments with my little sister, it's 7:30 and time for Joshua and me to go.

"Do I have to go to school!" I whine to Joshua as we pull out of the driveway.
"Harper the only way you'll ever go to college is if you get a scholarship," Joshua points out and I huff while looking out the window at the trees that will soon turn various colors of red, orange, and yellow and a grin forms on my face.
"I'm so excited for fall," I smile out the window and Joshua only glances at me then back at the road.
"Yeah, except Grandma and Grandpa are coming up for Thanksgiving this year," Joshua winces and so do I. Our Grandma and Grandpa live in Florida like any other typical grandparent. Except our grandparents differ from the average goo-lucky grandpa and soft smiled grandma because ours have a very repetitive habit of starting fights, feuds, and making people cry.

"Alright well, see you kid," Joshua remarks as he slides out of the car with me still buckled and glaring at the large building I know as St. Apollos. Suddenly a soft tap rings next to me and I nearly jump out of my own skin. Clara stands there smiling with her light brown hair which is straight today and framing her heart-shaped face.
"Hi Harper!" she waves crazily at me from outside my window and I only stare at her. I really don't want to get out of this car. But since apparently staring at people is rude and my mother taught me common decency I give her a weak smile and slide out of the car.
"Hey Clara," I smile and she throws her arms around me in a hug.
"Ok," I sigh while lightly wrapping my arms around her.

"Thank you so much for voting we got 95% of the Junior grade to vote so the facility will consider it!" she cheers.
"So my vote didn't really matter anyway?" I question and she seems to miss my comment and locks arms with me, dragging me into the depressing dimension I call school. As we walk through crowds of Freshmen who part for us upperclassmen, I see Wyatt and Gabriel standing outside of Physics, the only class I have with Gabriel and Wyatt together.

"Oh this is my stop," I nod towards the classroom and Clara's eyebrows shoot upwards.
"You have a class with Gabriel?" she gawks and I feel the 'oh my gosh isn't he so amazing he's a prince' rant coming that I heard nonstop yesterday. Apparently, the student body found out the second day and word spread like wildfire around the school about how a Spanish Prince goes to our school.
"Yep," I nod already feeling annoyed.

"I literally only have one class with him, but he's so smart that's why he's in higher classes and stuff, and he is such a gentleman he holds the door open for girls and I would literally die if..." I quickly zone out as she stares longingly at him and I know most of the girls' crushes on him should fade away in a month like they usually do with the new guy. At least I hope they do or poor Gabriel will have about fifty tails following him around everywhere. I guess it'd be pretty entertaining for me to see him possibly snap. Suddenly Clara stops talking as Mr. Roberts, our math teacher, strides by us. He's the favorite teacher of the school and both of us smile as he approaches us.
"Are you girls ready for AP stats?" he asks with no degree of swagger.
"As ready as I'll ever be," Clara rolls her eyes at the young teacher.
"I expect both of you to ace this semester! I expect nothing less!" he calls out while walking away. Laughing at our teacher's futile hopes Clara and I part ways. 

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