"Welcome to Worthfinder Academy, the very one of its kind. We aide students to find their true worth, reach their finest potential and lead the society in years to come."
The speakers blasted an almost robotic voice as the new students walked inside the orientation hall, dressed to perfection. Girls in creme, puffed sleeve blouses with plaid maroon waistcoats cinched around their waist, a fluffy bow stuck to their crisp collars, plaid maroon and black pleated skirt twirling alongwith their gait, all tied in with black socks and shoes. The boys were in white shirts, navy and black ties around their necks, a navy coat and black pants with socks and shoes, hustling and bustling amongst each other.
"Here at Worthfinder, we provide you comfort in accommodation, elegance in composure and style in your life. We encourage each student to become the most graceful version of themselves before stepping foot into the society."
Behind the hoards of regular students walked in the new students, thirty in total, varying in ages and sizes. They took the very first seats in the ginormous domed auditorium, chatting about individual accomplishment amongst themselves as the speakers continued.
"Yes, I can speak eight languages. The dean was very pleased to hear about it," some little seven-year-old flexed.
"Oh, yes that is spectacular, but I have been a chess mastermind since I was three." Some other six-year-old flexed.
"Sitting and speaking is swell but have you ever stepped a foot out in the fields? I've been fencing and shooting with my dad for as long as I can remember. My dad is the President of Doll.Inc," some other eight-year-old flexed whilst the others gasped.
"Excuse me, yes, you, please, vacate this spot," two tall men, dressed in suspicious black suits, tapped the eight-year-old's shoulder and gestured to the seat on the very far left. "Sit there," they all but ordered.
"Excuse me? I do not want to," the eight-year-old protested loudly over the speakers that blared praises of Worthfinder Academy.
"You must, for our mistress prefers to be seated in the centre," the two men stepped apart and gave way to a sheepishly smiling Alora Hemming. She waved a bandaged hand, quite awkwardly, at the eight-year-old, fidgeting with the locks of her strawberry hair.
"I really don't prefer that, please, keep sitting," she whispered to the student, modestly glaring at the two men who kept insisting otherwise.
"Yes, I would like that too."
After the stunt Alora had pulled during the entrance exam, Mr Juno Hemming had very persistently denied Alora from joining the school. Though, Alora was able to work her puppy charm on her father and requested to join as a seventh birthday present. Mrs Gem Hemming was absolutely against the manipulations but Alora showed her that she was strong enough to face the Academy by crying for it, for three days straight.
In the end, her parents caved in and agreed to let her join only if she allowed with her a mortifying number of eight bodyguards at all times. Alora dwindled down the number to two after six hunger strikes.
"Two is reasonable enough and the Diora twins shall be with her," the Hemming parents had consoled themselves with hugs and kisses as they saw their seven-year-old in a school uniform for the first time. Pride brimming in their eyes. They clicked pictures all the way from home, during the car ride, at the entrance gate, and even after Alora hid herself in front of Quinn and Quenton so they would just leave from the gates.
They probably didn't.
For the next thing the announcement speakers blared is, "Worthfinder is good and all, but do keep safe, my butterfly! No going around sharp objects! No running around fields and playing dangerous games! And definitely no staying up late at night to study!" in Mr Juno's voice.
"Yes darling, don't work too hard and get sick, okay? Take it easy. Momma and Dada love you, Alora!"
The crowd birthed to life, exchanging words of "Momma" and "Dada" with mock. And honestly, that would have been okay enough for no one really knew who she was, right?
But then, the lights dimmed, the atmosphere darkened, and a bright yellow spotlight glared at her, illuminating little Alora to the world.
And Alora cringed, shielding her face behind her hands as she sped past her bodyguards and took the cornermost seat in the front row and hung her head in her lap. The spotlight followed her.
"Take care butterfly, we'll get going now."
"You know we love you the most, darling. Good bye!"
The speaker ka-chinged shut and the lights were turned back on.
Wow, this was absolutely embarassing.
And to top it all off with a cherry, her guards were quick to run up to her and fawn all over her.
"Madam, are you okay?"
"Are you feeling sick or nauseous?"
"Anything we can help with?"
"Would you like some mint chocolate?"
"Or a guava juice?"
They fired simultaneously, until Alora jerked her head up and folded her hands in front of them. "I'm fine, I really am. Can't you just stand away from me, please?" She all but begged them.
The guards saluted with sincerity and stepped exactly three steps back, facing her, not breaking eye contact.
And Alora was yet to realise the silence of the auditorium where two thousand pairs of eyes stared at her, the spectacle, whilst the teachers bade courteous goodbyes to the Hemming parents.
"Wow, that was one way to start your year," a boy snickered as he and his friends walked through the hallways, making their way to the first class. He was Elio Thurstone, black haired and blue eyed boy of eight, grandson of Worthfinder's Dean, Elijah Thurstone, and a very nonchalant person in comparison to others.
"I know, right? The whole school's talking about it. I've heard she's a right wing student, you remember, the one who broke open the lock with a blade and came first place? Yes, that was her!" His friend informed, scrolling his iPad and zooming in on Monday's timetable. He was Caspian Savarro, son of some renowned scientist who had participated in the research and invention of manmade atmospheric elements. Caspian had an adventurous streak, a chatty nature, and beautiful green eyes and lush blonde hair as his claim to fame.
"Wow, honestly, I have real respect for all that she went through," Elio mumbled, walking inside his class.
Finn Steele stared at his friends' backs as if they had been possessed by some strangers. In all honesty, maybe the whole world was possessed enough to let someone as ravenous as Alora Hemming in this holy lap of peace and education.
Thankfully, he was a student in Left Wings and would have all classes different from that little demon spawn of the Right Wing. Finn walked inside the well furnished room with peaceful steps and zen on his mind. He had a reputation to maintain, obviously, as a charismatic eight-year-old with modesty and grace that others only wished to possess.
He placed his laptop and iron man water tumbler on his desk beside the windows and pulled out a notebook and pencil box from his bag. The class would begin in five more minutes and Finn would be earning the most points again. As always.
Which was, until, he looked out of the window and the saw the very familiar strawberry head being surrounded by a bunch of girls and boys. He couldn't hear the words being spoken in the field, but he could see their strained faces and gesticulating hands aimed at Alora.
Does she not have classes to attend?
Is she skipping school on the first day?
And suddenly two boys started picking up stones and Finn's breath hitched. Would they hit her or something?!
Was she being bullied on her first day?!
Where were her bodyguards?
They would come soon enough, right?
But then someone pushed Alora and she fell back on the grass.
Finn's body jumped up involuntarily as he took bigger strides toward the door when two students blocked it.
"Hey, is this Professor Blue's class? We're new here and heard you could help?" A petite brunette questioned, holding out a hand for him to shake. "I'm Quinn, by the way, Quinn Diora and he's my twin, Quenton." She gestured to the boy standing beside her.
Helping new students on their first day earned everyone a Worthstar and every twelve Worthstars would merge to become a direction star, North Star, East Star, West Star or South Star. Any student who was able to earn all four grand stars and "conquer all directions," would be placed first among all year students.
And Finn liked being first place, yes, but not at the expense of others.
"Indeed, this is Professor Blue's class, you can take a seat in the third row, it's all empty for the newer students. I have something important to attend to, so, if you could excuse me, please?"
And he ran out without hearing their reply.
"Oh, well, thank you!" Quenton called back, waving as the young boy ran through the hallways, evading people like bacterias. "I wonder what happened... Did he want to pee a whole lot?" Quenton asked his sister, carefully holding his and Quinn's iPads in his arms. The expensive gadgets were very precious to his soul and pockets.
"I don't know...he didn't even tell us his name," Quinn shrugged and took a seat in the middle of the third row. Were she and her brother still going to be mistreated here? Everyone had been surrounding Alora since the Orientation Ceremony. Her parents gave her such a wholesome goodbye, whereas their dad did not even bother to come.
Why did no one care about them?
Quinn looked around, whilst Quenton shuffled with books and bags, and saw everyone talking amongst each other. They were laughing, chatting, and reiterating Alora's story. She wasn't even here, yet everyone was talking about her.
And why did it make Quinn feel weird about herself?
Alora had been nothing but kind to them...so why was Quinn so damn paranoid of a seven-year-old kid?!
"Let's have a good day today," Quenton tapped his sister's shoulder from his seat, behind her, and smiled a kind smile.
"Yes, let's."