The Dr Pepper Effect

The Cupcake Sacrifice

Chapter 1 – The Cupcake Sacrifice

I took a tentative step into the street, looking round for the bus. Could this day possibly get any worse? Grimy, sore and shattered I turned to my right where the rev of an engine pierced the silence. Yep looks like it could.

***

This had to be the most ostentatious room I had ever been in. It was a dark room filled with polished mahogany and expensive trinkets, the chandeliers dangling low on the ceiling as if designed to make an imposing man duck. The whole room appeared to be a way of making you feel uneasy and vulnerable before the owner even arrived.

Obviously a complete control freak then.

There was gigantic oil portraits in gilded gold frames hung on the walls. Their menacing eyes followed you as you moved. I’d checked by pacing up and down the length of the Persian rug several times before I’d gotten dizzy. They glared at me as if to say I shouldn’t be here and I was inclined to agree with them. I didn’t fit with the decadence of the room.

I was supposed to be at the local comprehensive school with all my friends, the ones I’d known since I was three. My art teacher, the lovely Mrs Jones had decided my artistic capabilities was wasted at a school where oil paint was usually spread on walls by stubby fingers rather than canvas and submitted a request to the local art galleries to provide references for the prestigious Wilkinson Academy for the privileged and insanely shallow. My parents obviously delighted by the idea of me attending such an esteemed school ignored every protest I’d made. Apparently “my friends would still be there and honestly Jade they’re not that great in the first place.” Great example of parenting there!

 So now I’m stuck here.

The first scholarship student ever to enter these marble tiled halls.

My disgusting yearbook photo had been in all the local newspapers for a week as the community at large praised the Academy for accepting a student from a diverse background. To my knowledge it was the first charitable action they had ever done in 300 years of educating the youth of the rich, famous and morally questionable. And to be honest I’m not sure it can be called that charitable if the student in question doesn’t want to be here.

In my last year at school and I have to wear a uniform! It looked quite cool when it had arrived last week in black, white and post box red but after putting it on this morning I realised the reality was quite different. My patent leather shoes were scratching against my knee high socks and I itched to change into the converse that was hidden in my satchel. Smoothing down my skirt again which seemed ridiculously short, I sat straighter in the most uncomfortable chair ever. I don’t care if it costs $20,000 and is French, Louis the something era, this chair was made to make you feel like you had a stick up your butt. I eyed the chair on the other side of the expansive desk longingly; it looked like a posh version of a beanbag. It looked so, so comfy. I inched forward when suddenly the headmistress glided back into the room and perched on the chair. I sat back guiltily as if I’d just been caught with my hand in a cookie jar. The headmistress’s severe face glanced at me knowingly. She couldn’t possibly suspect what I’d been thinking could she? So creepy!

“Ms Wallis, here is your timetable for your senior year at the Wilkinson Academy.” I reached over and took the piece of paper from her, attempting to understand the schedule. She emitted a little cough and when I looked up, she gave her head a small decisive shake. I realised this woman did not take kindly to being ignored. Placing the paper on my lap I gave her my full attention.

She paused giving me an examination before speaking. “As our first scholarship student, we will expect you to maintain your grades and submit extra assignments to national art exhibitions to meet the expectations of your scholarship.” I nodded thoughtfully, when her smile turned mocking and she looked down her nose at me. Her tone changing from authoritative to excruciatingly condescending she said,