*Watty's 2021 Shortlist*
Samantha Roberts and Ben Evans have one thing in common - they both attend Sir Robertson's School for the Gifted, an elite boarding school for the children of the world's wealthiest. Both scholarship students, they gravitate...
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It's way too early to be awake, and now I remember why I don't like school. Classes start at 8:45, but I'm up at 7:00 so I can wake up Rose and eat breakfast before assembly.
And yeah, I know 7 isn't that early, but I am basically exactly the opposite of a morning person. Rose is, however, which makes my job about ten million times easier. She's already dressed and packed for the day by the time I knock on her door, and she practically drags me to breakfast, chattering the whole way about how excited she is for all of her different classes.
And yeah. I'm happy for her. But does she have to be that energetic?
Luckily for me, coffee makes everything better.
I keep an eye out for Sam as we head to the assembly, but because of my general exhaustion and inability to function, we're just about as late as everyone else, which means we're struggling through a mass of people.
Knowing Sam, she was here ten minutes early.
I feel a little warmer that I already know that about her, and how pathetic is that?
I doze through the entire assembly, even with Rose poking me every ten minutes and telling me to pay attention. I've been to enough new schools to know the drill. Expectations, culture, blah, blah, blah.
This place may be fancier than anywhere else, but that doesn't mean the teachers are all that different. Just richer.
I walk Rose to her first class of the day—chemistry 11, jesus christ the kid scares me sometimes—and leave her there, happily introducing herself to the teacher. She's never really been shy at school, at least not around faculty members. She has some trouble making friends with other kids, considering she's usually years younger than them, but she wraps teachers around her pinky finger by just existing.
I'm not jealous or anything.
My first class of the day is Fitness and Strength, which seems like terrible placement to me, because it means I'm going to be all sweaty for English, which is right after.
I head to the locker room and try not to shiver as I get changed quickly. I also make sure not to glance too long at any of the other boys. I don't think anyone here knows that I'm Bi, but straight guys can be weird about it. I've developed a routine for situations like this over the years, and it involves keeping my eyes fixed firmly on the floor.
My gym uniform, which I picked up along with my orientation package, fits perfectly, which is a relief. It's also not too unbearable dorky—black shorts and a white shirt with Sir Robertson's logo on it. Actually, it's so fancy it should probably be called a crest or something.
We warm up with a quick twelve-minute run, and it feels good to get moving after the long travel day yesterday. Being stuck on a plane with Rose definitely got old after the first hour, even if she's pretty good at coming up with stuff to do herself. I can't imagine what having a super hyperactive little sister would have been like.
