After her father's tragic passing, Nora Davis is forced behind the scenes, nothing more than a stepping stone for others in their journey to stardom. When an opportunity presents itself, Nora, trapped under her stepmother's heel, takes it as her cha...
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The next day at school was weird. Like, weird, weird.
Nora was used to living in the background. She stayed under the radar. Aces didn't know who she was other than "that one Scholar" chick. That was how she preferred it.
But the second she walked into Jostlin Academy, she immediately noticed a different quality to the air. It was the day before the weekend, so usually, kids were more alert and happier, already putting plans in place for their two days of freedom.
Today, there was stiffness to the air. Students glanced at her and Tessa as the two of them strolled through the hallways. Once they passed, groups of girls either giggled or frowned. Guys gave them both a once over that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
"Is my uniform on backward?" Tessa asked her.
Nora checked. "No. Is mine?"
"No."
"Weird." She'd given up trying to understand the students at Jostlin a long time ago. Their priorities were never lined up with where they should be. The things they valued - like money and status - were frivolous and fleeting.
Stupid, she scolded herself. Don't pretend you don't care about money. If she had the funds, she wouldn't be producing music and running Musetunes profiles for seven different artists. If she had money, she could go to college.
If she had money, maybe some kids would stop looking down at her for being a Scholar.
But she didn't. At this rate, she never would. That was life.
Nora sighed and said goodbye to Tessa as they split off to go to their lockers. Her locker was in the history corridor - the ugliest of hallways. Each wing of the school had color-coded lockers to help the students navigate the expansive halls. The English hall was blue, the Math hallway yellow, and the main hallway a stark red. But the history hallway was a nasty tan. They assigned each grade a specific hall as their class entered Jostlin to encourage students to hang out with others in their class. However, after her first few months, she quickly realized most of the Scholars had lockers in the history wing. She never found out if that was intentional or not.
Maybe if she had money, her locker would be in the main hallway like Tessa. Or in the blue hallway, like Felicity and Devon.
She adjusted the strap of her bag and spun the dial on her locker.
The moment the metal door opened, soggy toilet paper rolls slumped over onto the floor in front of her.
The entire hallway seemed to stop.
Laughter broke out.
Nora clenched her fist. Whoever had gotten her locker combo had also decided to use two long sheets as streamers and taped them to the top of the opening. "Scholar Slut," it said in thick red marker.
