"What do you mean you're sending me off to boarding school?" My mouth hung open at the horrible news that my parents just delivered. It had been one week since the fire that nearly destroyed my school and that I was being blamed for. Sure, I'm not the most model student and my grades could be better. But what's a girl supposed to do, when your older brother is the star of the football team and president of the student council and your younger sister is a certified genius? I mean Melissa, is taking harder classes then me! And I'm a sophomore in high school. She's barely out of middle school and she's taking calculus. Yup, being the middle child sucks big time.

"It's for the best." This was my mother's failed attempted at smoothing things over. As the youngest of seven, she can kind of understand what I'm going through. But that doesn't make up for her agreeing to ship me off.

I leaned back into my chair and crossed my arms over my chest. "Let me guess, it was Birdface's idea?" My mother looked away from my intense stare, something she does when she knows something and doesn't want to tell us. "Figures it'd be old bird face." Birdface was the middle aged principal of the local middle school and high school. For the past four years, he's tried and almost succeeded in making my life a living hell. What does he have against me? Well, he could be still upset about the prank with the firecrackers. I was just a kid at the time, how was I supposed to know not to stick seven into the muffler of his car? I swear, some people cannot take a joke.

"You will not speak about Principal McKallen in a disrespectful manner, young lady." This came from my stern father. The oldest of four brothers, he was raised in a military home and took no nonsense or back talk. With him, it was best to just stay quiet until he was done yelling or as he calls it 'stern lecturing'. You did not want to get on my father's bad side.

Which is why I mumbled a, 'Yes, sir.'

"Good." He nodded, in approval and stood behind my mother, resting his hands on the back of her chair.

His blue eyes stared at me for a moment, silence passing as he collected his thoughts. "Yes, Principal McKallen was the one who suggested this. We've already looked into the school, talked to the dean and several other teachers." He walked over to the counter and returned with a thick plain brown envelope. Tossing it across the table he said, "Everything's settled."

My eyes widened in horror at the realization of what father was about to say. "All your school records have been transferred, uniform brought, dorm decided along with classes. All that's left is for you to arrive." Seeing my mix of shock, confusion, and outrage, he held his hand up to cut me off. "Valeire, its settled. Your going to Olympus Academy."

"So you're just shipping me off, just like that?" I can't believe this. They must've been thinking about this for a while. When else would they have time to actually take the time to do something that involves me. If it's not taking Melissa to tutoring or father dear help coaching Ryan's football practice, their busy with work. Mom's a RN and daddy's a lawyer. Which leaves poor little me to fin do myself. With as much as I actually see them, I might as well be living on my own.

The only time they pay me any real attention is either when they want something or I screw up. It's more the latter most time. Like the fire that nearly destroyed the school. For the record, it wasn't my fault. Sure, I was the last person in the library right before the fire. And earlier that week, I may have said I wish the school would burn down. But other than that, they have no proof that it was (or wasn't). But old birdface has the police and my parents fooled. It doesn't help that my past 'incidents' are about a mile long. As Melissa says. Speaking of the genus, little turp also doesn't believe me, only Ryan does.

"Honey,' mom held both of my hands, "I know this is sudden, but it's really for the best."

"Yes, because shipping your fifteen year old daughter off to an unknown place is always a great idea." My voice dripped with sarcasm I rolled my eyes.

Knowing that auguring with them, epically father, once they've made a decision was pointless (not that it's stopped me before) I snatched the envelope up on my way to my room. It like everthing else in my life, is a representation of my middle child status. Parents got the master bedroom, that I can understand. As the oldest, Ryan got the nrext biggest with its own bathroom. Now who do you think got the one with the walk-in closet and is big enough for two twin beds? If you guessed Melissa, congrats, you've been paying attention.

Lucky little turp got dad's former office, while I got stuck with an extra storage room as mine. It's so tiny, that in order to have any walking space, I don't even have a bed. Just a tiny chair that pulls into one. Yup, just a dull grey room that's just big enough for a chair bed, half a dresser, and three large bins stacked on top of each other. Still don't get how small my room is? I don't even have a closet. Dad had to force Melissa to give me one side of her walk-in closet. House clothes, party clothes, school clothes, and more are in her room. If I want to get anything out, I've gotta get the turp to unlock her door.

Really wish dad had let me move some things into Ryan's room when he offered. But no, the general had to have things his way. "You and Melissa are sisters, Ryan is your brother. Blah, blah, blah. You and Melissa will share her closest." Yeah, I've learned when and when not to tune out dad. This way I avoid longer lectures and having to actually to actually listen to them.

Anyway, enough complaining and bitching. Once upstairs, I no longer felt like going to my tiny sanctuary. So I walked pass mine and Melissa's rooms and went into Ryan's. Your typical guy room, complete with sports posters, video games, tossed clothes everywhere, and comic books. Ryan doesn't care whether or not I'm in his room all the time. As long as I don't destroy his room, I'm welcome here day or night. Not that I take too much advantage of his kindness. (Cue looking innocent.)

Settled on his bed, I finally opened the envelope father gave me. Inside was a letter of welcome, class schedule, campus map, student handbook, and brochure. There was a picture of five happy students standing in front of the school's fountain. The two girls wore khaki pleated skirts and boys matching khaki pants. They all wore the rest of the uniform, white button down shirts, red blazers or sweaters, and grey neck ties. Just from this picture, one could tell that this was the type of school rich people and celebrates send their kids. A school for over privileged and spoiled rich kids.

'Ancient Mythology and History will guide you to a new you.' Was written in gold letter under the school's name, which was Olympus Academy. According to the brochure, the academy was an elitist school, only accepting the best. While they prided themselves on their stellar academics, they also had several equally good areas. They accepted students from all over the world, regardless of race, country, or background. In addition to the 'main' school, which all students attended. There were also several 'specialty' schools called houses, which focus on one or two core areas for students in those programs. There was one for sports, music, cooking, dance, and art.

This leads into how they accept students. Either excellent academics, gifted or talented to enter one of the houses, or a third way not listed. My guess, it's the mystious third way was how I got in. Let's be honest, my grades are average and I'm not talented in any area they'd like. So why am I even going here? It must cost a fortune. Parents must be desperate to get read of me to pay an arm and a leg to ship me off.

"Boulder, Colorado?" My eyes went wide at the location of the school. The school was in another state. Great.