You’ve got to be kidding me. This is so messed up. It’s taking all my energy not to burst the window down and shatter it into a million pieces. I’m forced to go to Bayshore Boarding school, and I don’t even have a say in that matter. I can’t even control my own life! Why can’t anyone just listen to me? I’m the prince after all! Ugh. I should have never gone to that party. None of this would have happened if I said no. I could’ve still been with my friends, but of course, I had to ruin it. I should’ve known it was trouble. I should’ve gotten out of there when I saw him.

Instead, I stood there like a coward. My hands took control of my body and before my brain could register, I had knocked the guy down. Someone recorded it and the clip spread like wildfire. Now I’m sitting in the back seat of a limousine heading to a nightmare. What more could go wrong? A few stoplights later, we are there. A hand greets me and it takes me a second to notice that it’s my cousin. Juliano has changed so much, especially since I haven’t seen him in what feels like a decade. He’s gotten taller, and skinnier, and his hair is now a tsunami of curls.

“Nicolas! It’s so good to see you, man! Come, let’s take some pictures,” he exclaims. I follow him to the lush garden. It is wide and open, sloping dynamically down to a cosmic-blue river. There is a plush-green meadow that stretches away into the vastness. It’s definitely a sight to see.

“Smile, Nicolas,” my mom yells to me. I bare my teeth at the camera, the ends of my lips slightly arched. I try to look at ease, but anyone can tell that it’s a fake smile. I can’t bring myself to feel any enthusiasm whatsoever. This is going to be the most dreadful three years of my life, that is if I make it that long. When I eventually hear the continuous clicking come to a pause, I take this chance to dash inside the building. I am greeted by a woman who I can only assume is the headmistress. She has wrinkles up to her irises and gives me an exhausted smile.

“Nicolas, it is an honor to meet you. You may call me Miss Charlemagne.” She holds out her hand and I gently shake it.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too. Where should I put my stuff?” I ask her.

“Follow me. Normally first-years share bedrooms, but we’ve made an exception this time. We want you to feel nice and comfortable with enough privacy. After you’re settled in, you may head to the chapel. We have a performance prepared to officially welcome you to Bayshore.” We climb up a mountain of spiral stairs to reach my room.

Aside from the occasional cobwebs, it seems like a rather nice space. The sole light source comes from a slit between the sagging curtains of the elongated window, where I can view the mesmerizing river. The silky bedsheets smell like a mix of lavender and evergreen pines. I unpack my suitcase and lean it against the tinted walls. Once I’ve stuffed all my clothes into my closet and organized my school supplies on my desk, I’m ready to head back down. The chapel shouldn’t be difficult to find, considering it’s an aurora of colors, shimmering from the stained-glass windows. I pick an empty seat towards the front so that I can get a good look at the choir.

A flood of unfamiliar faces enters, and soon enough, the singing commences. All the voices blend in so smoothly in harmony with one another, but there is one distinct voice that stands out. The voice comes from a boy with the most gracious chocolate locks I’ve ever seen. His gaze meets mine, and for a second, all I can hear is his euphonious voice. It’s so delicate, yet vigorous. So soft, yet powerful. Every note touches my heart. As the performance comes to a close, all I can think about is that I need to talk to him.

At dinner, I scan the room and find the boy with the angelic voice.

“Hi, I don’t believe we’ve met yet. I’m Nicolas,” I shake his hand.

“Hello, I’m Sander, it’s so nice to meet you.”

“I have to say, you sounded beautiful out there. That was so remarkable to watch.”

“Oh, thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed it. If you’d like, maybe I can give you a tour of the school. It’s pretty big,” he suggests.

“Really? That would be great! We can walk around after dinner,” I reply. We continue casually conversing and I tell him about what my royal life was like before coming here. He talks about his hometown and what it’s been like to study here. He waits for me to finish all the mashed potatoes before we talk a walk around.

“So, since you’ve been to the chapel and dining room already, we can visit the rest of the rooms on the first floor,” he starts. “This over here is the principal’s office, which I haven’t been to yet in my first three months here. Then if we continue walking down the aisle, we have all of the art classrooms.”

“Cool. I’ve never been much of an art person myself, I’ve always drifted more to sports actually,” I explain.

“You know, we have a few sports teams at this school and I’m on the soccer team. It’s a lot of work and practice but it’s worth it. You should consider joining,” he replies.

“Yeah, that sounds like a lot of fun! Especially because you’re in it,” I smile.

“That’s true, I’m happy to have met you,” he smiles back.

The rest of the tour goes by in the blink of an eye, and suddenly I find myself alone in my room again. An urge in my body directs me to Sander’s Instagram page. Laying on my bed, I scroll through his feed. I look at him with his friends, his family, and his singing. His life is depicted in pictures. There’s something special about him, something I can’t quite put into words. This evening, when I was talking to him, I just felt different. It’s like we were two normal teenagers hanging out together. The fact that I was a prince didn’t matter. I forgot about all the hatred I felt towards this place and started to feel like maybe I do belong here. Perhaps it was always meant to be. I go to bed dreaming about everything that could happen, and the new opportunities at a prestigious school like this.

The following morning, my classes officially begin. I lug a pile of my books and enter English class. I notice Sander sitting next to a girl that I assume is his sister. I’m about to head to the empty seat at the back of the class when I hear someone call out my name.

“Nicolas, it’s been so long! Come, there’s an empty seat next to me waiting for you,” Aurora calls out. For a second, I stand in the middle of the class, stunned. I couldn’t believe it! My preschool best friend is here! As a toddler, I threw numerous tantrums when she announced she was moving away, but at last, we were reunited. I drop my books on the desk and immediately start catching up with her.

“So, how’s everything? Are you handling all your duties all right?” she asks.

“Well, to say the truth, these past few weeks have been a whirlwind. I’m sure you know by now about the fight that went down, but I’m trying to look at it as an opportunity to reinvent myself. When I succeed on the throne, I don’t want people to look at me as someone immature or incapable of handling power. As for now, I’m going to be making my decisions more carefully” I confess to her. All of these thoughts have been buzzing like a swarm of bees through my mind, and it feels great to finally let them out. We continue chattering, but our conversation is cut short by Mrs. Rosin, who begins a class discussion on racial injustice. Eager hands shoot up and a student by the name of Gianina is called upon.

“Personally, I believe that people should keep their opinions to themselves, especially those on the outskirts of society. There’s no point in adding fuel to the fire,” she declares. A snicker comes from Sander’s mouth which is caught by the teacher.

“Sander, it seems like you have something to add. Go ahead, the floor is yours.”

“Well, in order for the world to change, people have to speak up. I, myself, am part of a marginalized group, and our voices need to be heard. We’re just as important as anyone else and we deserve the right to project our opinions,” his tone is loud and confident.

“Thanks, both of you. The reason why I asked about this is that we’re going to be reading a novel together. For the following month, we will be deep diving into Internment by Samira Ahmed. It connects the detainment of immigrants at the borders, the separation of families, and the horrific manner in which Muslims are treated worldwide. I hope you’re all as excited as I am to gain a further understanding of these crucial issues,” Mrs. Rosin announces. She goes on and on until I eventually zone out.

At lunch, I catch Sander’s eye and scoot over to him.

“What you did in class today was incredible. Props to you,” I compliment him.

“Thanks. I’ve seen so much of the bad in our world that I had to speak out,” he replies. I open my mouth to say something else but before I can muster out my words, I hear my name being shouted.

“Nicolas! Come on over here! Normally I would never let first-years sit with us, but today you get the privilege of seating next to us, notable third-years. We have a seat reserved for you, right next to me” Juliano beams. Is he being serious right now? The last thing I want to do is talk to my obnoxious cousin, but I have no choice. Making a scene on my second day here is just asking for trouble. He floats to power and all he sees in me is a ladder to nobility. Reluctantly, I shove myself into the empty seat at the head of the table.

“Woah there. What’s with the attitude? You should be thanking me that I saved you from sitting next to a middle-class student,” he chastises.

“You're right, thank you so much,” I say in a slightly sarcastic tone. Luckily, his self-centered mind doesn’t notice the derision and pats my back. It’s taking a lot of self-restraint not to yell at him, but I manage. For the rest of the meal, I chit-chat with him and all of his friends about my initial impressions and expectations of coming here.

“Yeah, I was extremely thrilled to be attending Bayshore,” I lie. “I’m honored to be sitting here right now, with such distinguished and reputable young gentlemen.” I’m lying like a fish on dry land, but they don’t have to know that. There are a lot of things that are better kept to myself. Once the majority of my plate is licked clean, I tuck my chair in and escape to my room.

The afternoon classes fly by, and before I know it, the sky is already dim. I’m working on some science homework when my door flings open. Abruptly, a blindfold is smothered on my face before I can react. I am then forcefully dragged out of my room and thrown outside. What the hell? This must be one of the stupid pranks Juliano has planned. I want to sprint out of there, but two firm hands are holding me in place. I am left with no choice but to let this play out. A shiver relentlessly weaves its way down my spine as I am pushed out into the grass. I can hear the soft murmurs of my captors as they contemplate where to leave me.

Five seconds later, the blindfold is ripped off my face. I open my pupils to see flashing lights and drunken adolescents coiled tightly together, jumping to the base of the blaring music. On one side of the room, someone is chugging an entire bottle of beer down their throat. On the other side, two half-naked girls are dancing on top of the pool table, laughing hysterically. The night is alive. The air is so thick with lights and smoke that it’s almost like we’re underwater, if not for the roar of the crowd and the music thrumming. A girl starts pushing her body against mine, and I’m not having it. Desperate for some fresh air, I stray from the horde, only to run into Sander.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hi,” his reply is muffled by the music. We look at each other for a few seconds, not saying anything.

“I’m- I’ve got to go,” Sander says as he turns away. Not wanting to end the night there, I chase after him.

“Sander, wait up!” I yell. He looks in my direction and slows down. Once I catch up to him, I’m already out of breath.

“I’m sorry,” he tells me. “Parties just aren’t my thing.”

“Yeah, there’s too much noise and way too many people,” I agree. Sander flops down on the lawn, and so do I. There’s another moment of silence between us, but this time it’s peaceful. It’s the kind of quiet you need. The serenity to absorb your thoughts.

“Nicolas?” I can hear Juliano roaring in the distance. “Where’d you go?”

“Nicolas,” Sander mocks him while bursting into laughter.

“Shhh, I don't want to talk to him. Quiet.” I instinctively cover his mouth, giggling as well. I grab both of his arms and shove him down with me until only our heads can be seen. We’re so close to each other that I can make out his breathing pattern. Two breaths in, one breath out.

“Oh Nicolas,” Sander mimics him again. This time I lunge my entire body against his and use both hands to stifle his mouth. His lips are soft, like a bundle of feathers.

“He’s probably making out with some girl. Forget it,” we can overhear one of Juliano’s friends uttering.

“Making out? Did you see him leaving with someone?” my cousin's voice booms. I stare at Sander, who is still chuckling like a little kid. My hair can be easily distinguishable, so I lean my head against his. My nose is an inch away from touching him. We’re so close to each other. We stay there like that for a while, looking deep into each other’s eyes. Just when I think we’re about to touch, footsteps come stomping in our direction.

“There you are, Sander. We should get going; it’s already an hour past midnight. Let’s go, we don’t want to make mom wait. Oh, you must be Nicolas. I’m Nova, by the way,” the girl babbles as she pulls Sander up.

“It’s great to meet you. I probably should also be heading home now, considering how late it is. I’ll see you later, Sander,” I smile as we part ways. When I arrive back in my dorm, I scroll through all my business emails until I land on one sent to me by my mother. It catches my eye because she always sends me everything through my personal email, so this must be important.

It turns out it’s an invitation to PSF, the top-rated festival of speech and debate. And not only that but I’ve been selected as a featured speaker! As I make myself comfortable in my bed, I fall asleep thinking about how all my dreams are finally coming true.