How To Hate Your Best Friend

eight

"Welcome students, we are so very lucky to have you all here," a voice begun on the microphone that echoed through the modern building. A lady, I would say in her 60s was up at the podium with a smile on her chubby face. 

Today was the first day of the NGSA scholarship program. It was held at the National Art Gallery Museum in D.C and I had taken the hour long metro to arrive there on time.

The museum was absolutely gorgeous. Classical paintings adorned the walls and beautiful portraits of franchised art were scattered around the museum. Around 12 students were mindlessly checking out the artwork and since the instructions on the site after being admitted told us all to dress 'business-casual', everyone was dressed to a classical attire which matched the theme of the museum. 

Suddenly, the door swung open to reveal a girl bustling in with sports gear on and carrying a bunch of bags. She began apologizing profusely until she finally looked up and I realized who I was staring at. 

Brooke. 

This was the first time I had ever seen her truly 'frazzled'. It was an odd sight to see. 

She walked over and took a seat near the water dispenser but not before grabbing a glass and downing some. 

"Um, excuse me miss? Would you like to stand up and introduce yourself?" The instructor, Mrs. Becraft, asked. 

Brooke, still looking slightly out of breath, smiled politely, set her glass down and stood up. "Please excuse my tardiness, my field hockey practice ran late."

Ms. Becraft nodded. 

Was I hallucinating or did I just hear Brooke FUCKING Mckailey apologize to someone?

"Hi, my name is Brooke," she announced. Everyone murmured a greeting back. "I'm so grateful to be here and I plan on majoring in political science."

"Thank you so much, Brooke. It's been a pleasure to meet you," Ms. Becraft smiled. "So! Students! As you all know, this program is not one for the weak minded. You will be tested, challenged, and  evaluated based on your perseverance to come out on top of the rest of your peers. I will will say this once and only once; do not mistake kindness for weakness in any way shape or form. Your peers, instructors -- everyone you work with in this room right now can either help you or hurt you, but in the end, you must all remember that you are competing. This is a competitive program and if you do not bring your best, you will be kicked out. Understand?"

Everyone was stunned silent, but a couple of us murmured back a collective 'yes'. 

"What is this the hunger games?" a quiet voice whispered beside me. 

I looked over, a little annoyed someone was talking to me while the instructor was talking. I didn't want to break any rules and risk getting kicked out. 

"Sorry. I should probably shut up, right?" the guy next to me joked. 

Ms. Becraft was still droning on as I fought not to roll my eyes. "No, but I think you should probably pay attention."

"Who says I'm not?" he grinned.

"Excuse me. You two in the back?" Ms. Becraft suddenly called. The entire room fell silently and everyone turned to look at us. 

Shit. 

"Is your conversation more important than the understanding of this program you will need in order to succeed?" 

"N-no of course not we were paying attention-" I started, scared shitless. 

"Oh, then by all means please tell me what I was talking about prior." Her beady eyes stared at me.