"The first day is always the hardest," Sarah muttered to herself in a low voice while helping her mom in the kitchen with breakfast.
"Not for you, honey," her mother replied, smiling warmly.
"How can you be so sure, Mom? I'll be the odd one out. Everyone there will have flashy jewelry, designer clothes, and shoes, while I'll look like a mismatched Target employee in my T-shirt and jeans."
"Okay, if you don't want to wear that, you can always wear that floral summer dress your aunt got you for your birthday," her mom suggested.
"Mom," Sarah said with a tone of disgust, "I don't want to look like an old nun or some sparkly country town girl. The last thing I want is to get any attention on my first day."
Her mom cupped Sarah's face, looking into her green eyes. "Honey, you don't need designer things to stand out. You have personality, intellect, and confidence. Believe me, in the real world, those are the things that matter."
Sarah sighed and nodded, trying to believe her mother's words.
"Now, finish your breakfast, and let me wake up those other troublemakers. I don't know when they'll finally become responsible."
"We're here!" her siblings, Elle and Noah, shouted as they entered the kitchen. They were twins, both in middle school, and known for being a handful, as their teachers and mother often pointed out.
Elle, eyeing Sarah, made a snide remark. "Is that what you're wearing on your first day of school?"
"Yes," Sarah replied, confused.
Noah added with a smirk, "No wonder you don't have a boyfriend."
Both Elle and Noah laughed, and Sarah playfully ruffled Noah's neatly combed hair.
"Don't do that!" Noah protested, trying to fix his hair. "I have girls to impress at my school, not like you, always with your nose in books."
Sarah chuckled at her brother's innocence and returned to her breakfast.
Sarah had always been the kind of girl who preferred blending into the background. As the eldest of three siblings, with an absent father and a mother who worked tirelessly as a nurse, Sarah was used to being self-reliant and mature beyond her years. But starting high school at Ridgewood Academy, known for its rich kids and elaborate social hierarchies, was a whole new challenge. Sarah's pale complexion, dark hair, and soft greenish eyes often drew attention, but she never quite knew what to do with it.
As she stood at the gates of Ridgewood Academy, a school her mother couldn't afford, she thought about how she got in on a scholarship. Staring at the imposing gates, a wave of nervousness hit her, but it all vanished when the bell rang.
Standing in the hallway, she realized this was no ordinary school. It felt more like a Milan fashion show, where every person looked like an enigma wrapped in designer labels. From their clothes to their accessories, everything screamed "BRANDED." A sudden wave of embarrassment and the feeling of being an outcast clenched her heart.
Pushing those feelings aside, Sarah found her way to the guidance counselor's office. Knocking on the door, she entered to find a lean, middle-aged woman seated behind the desk. The woman looked up and scanned Sarah as if she had an X-ray machine in her eyes.
"Hi, I'm Mrs. Smith, and you must be Sarah Jackson," the counselor said.
"Hello," Sarah replied in a low tone, sitting down.
"Let me be straight with you, Sarah," Mrs. Smith said in a stern voice. "You're here on a scholarship, and you have a good academic record. But this school has a reputation for sending students to Ivy League schools. We make our students capable of achieving that. Our curriculum is designed to cater to the needs of students who aspire to join Harvard or Yale. I hope you'll keep up with our classes and extracurricular activities so you'll have a balanced and well-equipped resume and essay for college."
Mrs. Smith handed Sarah a heavy file containing her curriculum, class schedule, school code of conduct, and locker keys. "These are your class schedules and your volunteer hours for community work. You can choose where you want to volunteer from this list, and I need these forms completed by the end of the week so you can start on time."
Sarah took the file, feeling overwhelmed. She didn't want to be pranked on her first day, as everyone around her seemed unwelcoming. She made her way to her first class, Calculus, her favorite subject. As she entered the classroom, everyone was talking to each other, and at first, no one noticed her. She was about to sit in the middle row when two blonde girls with pale skin, wearing ankle-short skirts, stopped her.
"Hey, where do you think you're sitting? This is our spot," one of the girls said. "Now get up, take your trashy bag, and get the hell out of here, you bitch."
Sarah felt a wave of shock, quickly followed by anger, especially when one of the girls threw her backpack on the floor. She got up, shoved the girl, and said, "Don't mess with me again, or I'll hit you on your $20,000 nose that your plastic surgeon took so much time to make."
The whole class erupted in laughter. One boy with black hair and a cute face let out a high-pitched yell, "DAMN, GIRL!" He tried to high-five Sarah, but she didn't respond.
The other girl sneered, "I'm Rebecca. My father is one of the founders of this school. I'll have you kicked out of here."
Sarah ignored her, picked up her bag, and moved to the back seat of the class. Suddenly, she heard the voice of the same boy who had tried to high-five her. "Hi, I'm Percy. And who are you?"
"I'm Sarah," she replied.
"Okay, pretty girl," he said with a grin. "Don't mind Rebecca; she's a bit of a snob, and Rita just follows her around like a minion."
Just then, a young man of about 34 years with handsome features entered the room. The seriousness on his face was enough to silence the whole class. All the girls gushed at the sight of him.
"Hi, I'm Dr. Chris Heart, and I'll be teaching you Calculus. In my class, three things matter most: discipline, dedication, and hard work. So let's start with introductions."
One by one, everyone introduced themselves. When it was Sarah's turn, she stood up and said, "Hi, I'm Sarah Jackson. It's my first day here." She paused, unsure of what to say next. She didn't have a fancy background, and her mother wasn't a businesswoman like most of the other students' parents.
Dr. Heart broke the silence. "Are you the student here on a scholarship?" he asked.
Sarah replied quietly, "Yes."
"That's great," Dr. Heart said, smiling. "I'm very proud to have a student of your capabilities on merit rather than..." He stopped mid-sentence. "I was also on a scholarship at this very school. I wish you all the best, Sarah. You've got a long way ahead of you."
As she sat down, Sarah realized she had done something she had wanted to avoid at all costs in this school—she had drawn attention.
Dr. Heart glanced at the roll call sheet. "I think we're two students short in this class," he noted.
Suddenly, the door opened, and everyone was stunned when two figures stepped into the room.