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E V E R L Y B L A K E
MY WHITE SNEAKERS hammer against the tiles of the admissions office of Kentwood Academy. The school secretary pauses to look up at me from her computer, giving me a look of disproval of my "disruptive" behavior before averting her gaze back to her work, just as she had done over a hundred times since I sat down in this chair.
The secretary was a small lady with gray hair and a permanent scowl on her face, i would say she was anywhere in her late fifties.
Her scowl was always present on her face, including when I told her my name and asked her for my schedule, locker combination, and dorm room keys.
I was getting impatient after looking at the huge grandfather clock in the corner every once and a while. It seemed like time was frozen in place.
After what felt like a decade, she stood up and handed me my belongings. I mutter a "thanks" as my eyes rack over the brochure in my hands.
"Kentwood Academy; A prestigious boarding school for the bright and disturbed. " It read. I guess you can say I fall along the lines of disturbed.
This was the consequence of my actions. I suppose that every cause has an effect, and Kentwood was mine.
Well it really wasn't my choice of the matter, it was either Kentwood or house arrest. My parent chose Kentwood. They said it was what was "best" for me, but in all truthfulness, i believe it's really because they wouldn't want to miss the chance to get rid of me.
My dad's a lawyer and my mother's a fashion designer. My family's well known, so of course they wouldn't want anyone to doubt our "perfect family" image they try so hard to portray.
But behind closed doors, we're anything but perfect. My parents are usually working, doing anything in their power to avoid each other. When they are around each other, they're most likely fighting.
Maybe Kentwood is better off for me since it's really only a matter of time before my parents get a divorce.
My mom and dad's relationship has had a huge strain in it ever since I caught my dad having an affair. I walked right in on him in his office, while he was with his secretary. Pretty cliche, huh?
I guess you could say I find pleasure in disobeying their rules. I hate how they try to control me; how i act or dress or anything really.
However, this is one debate they won.
Kentwood looked more like a castle than a school. A big black steel iron gate wrapped around the premises. The pathway to the front door seemed to stretch on forever, there were students everywhere outside. Some laying or sitting on the grass or even just standing around in their friend groups.
