_jenxkiss
Hugh Biggs.
It seems that he is the golden boy of Ballylaggin.
He belongs to the place in a way I never will. People greet him in hallways with easy familiarity, calling his name as though it were something warm to hold. He plays rugby, of course-broad shoulders, steady hands, the sort of confidence that comes from always being expected to succeed. Teachers speak of him with approval that borders on pride. Even the younger students watch him, quietly admiring the way he moves through the world as if it has always welcomed him.
He is kind to everyone. That is what unsettles me most.
Not kind in the performative way I have seen before, but in the effortless, careless way of someone who has never had to consider whether kindness will cost him something.
And yet-there are moments, small enough to be missed, when his smile fades just slightly too soon.
Sometimes, when he looks out across the rugby field, he seems to be waiting for something that is not there.
Or perhaps someone.
***
Ophelia de Montclair.
Half French, they say-but you would never know it was only half. The way she speaks gives her away before anything else does, soft vowels touched with an accent that makes even ordinary words sound deliberate. Like she is choosing them carefully, placing them where they belong.
She is gorgeous.
That is obvious to anyone with eyes.
But it's not the kind of beauty that demands attention. It's the kind that makes people look twice, uncertain why they noticed in the first place. There's something distant about her, something careful. Like she's holding herself together in ways the rest of us don't have to.
She is smart too-top of the class without ever boasting. Teachers trust her. Students respect her. She never argues loudly, never speaks without thinking first.
But she is not Lizzie.