“Good Morning, everybody. I welcome you to this Brand new year at Pricetown Private School. Here at our wonderful school we uphold our students to a much higher degree than most schools,”

The Headmaster, Mrs. Deladore, surely knew how to give a speech. She was an older woman who looked like someone’s evil stepmother with those condescending eyes and that mouth that was constantly frowning. When she spoke though, she just sounded like a kind old white lady. 

She had directed me to this auditorium when I had first arrived here. As it turns out, I had the schedule wrong and school actually began today instead of next week. Luckily, I had planned to arrive in Los Angeles a week before school began so I didn’t miss anything. I hopped off the plane and immediately came here after arriving at my older brother’s house. Now I'm here listening to this woman talk while being incredibly jetlagged. Yay me.

I could hardly listen to anything she said though. Not that I haven’t heard it all before thanks to the introduction video they put on the school website. It basically just discreetly brags about how it’s better than most schools. The reason for my distraction though, had nothing to do with the awfully self-centered speech. It had everything to do with the boy who sat two rows in front of me. 

Our gazes collided when he had first arrived in the auditorium. My brown ones behind my circular frames and his strange gray ones. He was… interesting looking. If that makes any sense at all. I could’ve sworn I’ve seen him somewhere before, probably thanks to my best friend back in Texas. He was gorgeous in a way that makes you wanna draw back and take another look. He had a sort of rugged appearance; muscular but not overly muscular like a bodybuilder or like an anime character, tall but not freakishly tall like Slenderman, with black hair and gray eyes. He was annoyingly beautiful. So effortlessly that I bet most guys hated him for it. 

And I’m saying this even though I have no attraction toward white men. Growing up where I did, they were all greasy and plain disgusting. Here though, where the population was 80% Caucasian, they seemed to be absolutely to die for. If they all looked like him, which I highly doubt because that would just be completely unfair, I would have to change my stand on white men. And that’s just completely unneeded. 

“Now we will introduce this year’s Head Classmen positions,” said Mrs. Deladore, snapping me back to reality.

Finally, something worth my attention. I wanted to know who led our class, so I could match myself up against them. I don’t exactly have a need to be the best of the best, I’m just highly competitive.

“We will first start from the bottom and make our way up. Ms. Alix will explain what this position entails and the expectations and requirements. Ms. Alix?”

A blonde haired woman walked onto the stage,waving to a couple of students. She must’ve been a graduate or alumni or whatever rich kids call it. She walked up to the pedestal and adjusted the microphone.

“Hello everybody! My name is Penelope Alix and I was one of last year’s Senior Head Classmen. I’ll go ahead and get started before the Headmaster has my head,” she said, eliciting a couple of laughs from the students and a small chuckle from the Headmaster herself.

“So here at Pricetown we have something we like to call Head Classmen. There are eight in total, meaning two for each grade; a boy and a girl. These students represent their class in academics, behavior, and extracurricular activities. They are what the Headmaster likes to call, “The lions of the den.” They lead for the year and then the next year, if they are beaten, then that person will be head classman. Anybody can fill this position if you can meet the requirements. Even if you are a senior, this is your first year at Pricetown. If your scores from the end of your previous year at your previous school meets the standards and are at the top, then you can fill this position,” Penelope took a pause, and swept her eyes across the room. 

“Lastly, as of this year, if you do manage to grab the position, if you don't make the cut at the end of the first semester, you could lose your position,” she ended, stopping on the warning for dramatic effect. It worked; whispers and gasps sounded through the auditorium. I’m guessing that they must’ve had a problem with the head classmen slacking throughout the year, and so they created that rule to make sure they stayed focused.

A second passed and the Headmaster walked onto the stage. Penelope covered the microphone with her hand and leaned in to hear whatever the Headmaster had to say. A minute later, she handed Penelope a stack of red envelopes before she walked back off the stage.

“With the amount of incoming students, we’ve decided to announce the head classmen in a different order than what we’re usually doing. We’re going with the smallest classes rather than the biggest classes first. That means the freshmen will go first, then the juniors, then the sophomores, and lastly the seniors,” Penelope said.

So I guess that means my class will be going last. Meaning that I’d have to wait until everybody else went first before finding out who leads our class. That sucks. I’m far too excited to find out who I have to beat to win.

The head classmen rules sounded interesting. We didn’t have them back at my old school. I was top of my class in everything. In fact, I was top of my entire school, which to be perfectly honest, isn’t really an achievement because I went to a public school. For a while, I was neck and neck with a student from a rival school, who can now kiss my feet, but in the end I beat him with perfect scores. And my SAT scores were higher than his. They weren’t perfect, but they were great. 

He didn’t have a strong last semester so it got to the point where he couldn’t catch up. I believe in good sportsmanship and I’m not one to put other people down for losing, but he was a complete jerk who deserved to lose. He was a liar and a cheat who probably was only on top because he likely slept with the entire school staff. Now, I don't know if that’s one hundred percent true, but It’s a very high possibility. 

He was also my ex-boyfriend. We were the total “power couple” in other people's eyes. Even my parents loved him. But then he cheated on me with some white chick with daddy’s money and who failed every class. I was tutoring her at the time too! Worst six months I’ve ever put myself through and I’ve been to science camp. I don’t even like science enough, unless it has to do with the human body. Human anatomy type stuff.

While my grades were perfect to run for the head classman position, I highly doubt they were good enough for a school like this, with all their glittery students. It is also likely they have the funds and ability to pay for tutors or could pay off teachers in order to make good grades. Up until four months ago, when my dad’s business finally boomed, my family could hardly make rent to pay for the old and crusty apartment we lived in. We definitely didn’t have the money for stuff like tutors. You just had to learn to do it yourself. The extra money that my parents made usually went to my younger brother’s football development. Which was around a couple thousand dollars a year. Which is a lot to be perfectly honest. 

“For this year’s male Head Classman we have… Javier Almondez,” Penelope said.

A scrawny white boy walks onto the stage nervously. The boy legitimately looked absolutely terrified. He probably didn’t have too many friends, since nobody seemed to be happy for him to be chosen. 

The room erupted in kind claps from every class. The boy received a gold star that Penelope stuck onto his blazer.He bowed and walked off the stage just as nervous as he arrived. 

“Moving on, and this one’s kinda exciting, this year's freshman head classwoman is… Mia Atkins,” she addressed.

Unlike with Javier, the room erupted in whoops and hollers. I guess the girl was popular amongst all the classes. The loudest wasn’t even her grade it seemed. If anything, some of them, mostly girls, didn’t even clap. I wonder what that’s about. I even heard little whispers around me that I suspected were probably about her, but I couldn’t make out what they were talking about due to all the noise.

“How come she won?! She’s a loner and a loser who dresses like some kind of emo freak!” It was yelled by some girl in the freshman group that was near my left.

“Maybe because she’s just better than you. Maybe if you didn’t spend all your time practicing to be a mattress actress, then you might’ve won. Although it’s not likely,”

This time, I knew exactly who these words came from. I didn’t have to know the voice, and I didn’t know it, but the calmness in his condescending words had me looking at a couple of seats in front of me. At the boy from earlier.

Sure enough, his body was turned toward the freshman aisle, staring down the entire group. The room went quiet, I guess due to whatever power this man held. While he just sat there , dwelling in it. Not even the teachers spoke. Who was this boy?

Not even the girl who yelled about the Mia girl spoke. It was so quiet that you could hear your own heartbeat. 

“Who the hell said that?” said another girl from the freshman class.

How come at every interesting moment the room falls completely silent?