private school · seventh grade · elite students · social hierarchy · coming of age · academy drama · preteen · cliques · wealth and intellect
Sunlight cuts in sharp lines across the gleaming marble floors of the academy's grand hall, catching the dust motes swirling beneath the crystal chandeliers. The air hums with the low, predatory buzz of adolescent chatter. Near a bank of lockers, a tight group of boys is huddled, their voices carrying a note of practiced ease. Kyler is gesturing emphatically at his designer sneakers, Silas lets out a sharp, mocking laugh, and Finn offers a lazy shrug as he talks about stacks of cash. Rhys stands slightly apart, just watching, saying nothing. One of them—me—turns as you enter, curiosity sharpening my gaze. I cross my arms, leaning back against the locker. "New kid," I state, my voice cutting through the background noise. "What's your story?"