Velsing Academy

Greetings

The next morning came quickly, unfortunately. Callie had to shake my almost lifeless body awake and drag me into the bathroom to take a shower. Needless to say, I am not prepared for the first day of classes and try to block the mysterious eyes from my memory for the day.

Luckily Callie knows where she is going so along the way to her first block class, she decides to drop me off at my Literature class. We didn't get to eat breakfast due to my tardiness so my stomach rumbles all the way there.

I open the dark wooden door to the classroom and see that it is set up like a college lecture class. Rows of desks in a horseshoe shape climb the walls so that every student can see over the next. The steps that lead up to the very top are steep and I am sure only the coolest of the cool sit there. A large chalk board sits behind the teachers desk and has the words Mrs. Hills written on it.

I climb to the middle row and find my seat all the way near the end. Once in my seat I finally take a look at what Mrs. Hills looks like. She is an older lady with greying hair and small square glasses. Her grey blouse and pencil skirt add a few years onto her due to her skin not having much pink to it. Unlike her appearance, her features gave a warm feeling. She stood hands crossed on her lap at the front of the room giving a small wave and a big smile to each student who entered.

One by one the seats start to fill and I watch to see who would choose to sit next to me. To my left is a girl with bright blonde hair and the palest blue eyes I have ever seen. If looks could kill; I would be dead. A boy with short choppy chestnut brown hair sits in the seat to the right of me and gives me a crooked smile as I steal a glance at him. His hazel yellow eyes have a sliver of blue in the corner unlike any other eyes I have seen. His boyish features makes him charming and the varsity jacket he is wearing gives him an edge to offset his softness. My cheeks brighten automatically when I feel his eyes linger on the side of my head.

Mrs. Hills saves me from torment by starting her lecture about our syllabus and what would be expected of us in the class. A collective groan is let out when she outlines the 16 essays we are going to be expected to write throughout the year and the 4 book analysis we will have to make. It doesn't much bother me due to my love of writing but topped with the actual writing class, I am bound to become sick of it sooner or later.

She ends the syllabus with letting us get to know each other through class games she has, or ice breakers is what she calls it. She starts in the corner of the class and signals for the girl sitting in the first seat to stand up and announcer her name, one thing about herself, and one skill she has she is proud of. Her name is Grace Hunt and she is from a small town called Maryville and can make bird sounds with her mouth. After the first girl, I drown out the introductions until It gets closer to my turn so that I can work through my crippling anxiety about being the center of attention.

Mr. Charming next to me stands up and my head slowly lifts in his direction to listen to him while admiring his bright beautiful smile he gives the class.

He sticks his hands in his jeans and turns back and forth for everyone to see him, "Hey everyone, my name is Rylan Morris, my family were co founders of Velsing Academy, and I am an amazing soccer player. I hope this year is the best year yet for graduates and I look forward to sharing the academy with all of you."

Gasps erupt around the classroom and whispers erupt talking about Rylan being part of the Morris family who helped found this very academy. As if I wasn't embarrassed before, surely I am now. While tucking my hair around my face to disguise myself from everyone because my cheeks are the color of cherry tomatoes, the next person starts behind him with his introduction. Luckily he isn't a celebrity of any sorts so that gives me about five people before I have to take my turn.

I spend my time taking deep breaths and distracting myself with small doodles on a page in my notebook and not long after I am finally calm does Mrs. Hills call on me to rise. I stand slowly and give a slight glance at the left of the room and right, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

Clearing my throat slightly, I smile, "My name is Avis Fairisle, I love books, and I can always feel when it is about to rain."

I quickly sit down, ignoring the few giggles that follow from a couple girls that sat four rows to the left of me. Ingoring the giggles, I begin doodling again.

While I am sketching a small lizard near the spine of the notebook to accompany my bumble bee the blonde stands up next to me and with the most confident smile and stature I have seen, announces herself, "Hi! I am Veronica Powell, my mom is the famous ballerina Irene Powell, I am like my mother with my incredible ballerina talents."

She finishes and flashes a dazzling smile at Rylan and I see him give her a wink out of the corner of my eye. Again, everyone starts whispering and my eyes almost roll to the back of my head. Of course her mom is famous, nothing so primp and perfect would come without fame. This literature class is making out to be a class full of big headed people and egos to fit.

The bell rings and everyone gathers their stuff and they rush out in a blur of bags and uniforms. A crowd forms around Veronica and Rylan but I manage to make my way into the hallway rather unscathed. I hope the rest of my classes are not like this one.

I make my way down the hallway in search of my History class.