They don't play to win. They play to hurt.
Sterling Academy's irresistible reputation all came crashing down last year when a list of the 'top thirty girls too...' had been anonymously published.
Now recovering from the pits of hell the media dragge...
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ballad of a homeschooled girl | olivia rodrigo ❝ i broke a glass, i tripped and fell i told secrets i shouldn't tell i stumbled over all my words ❞
MY HAND CRAMPS and I let the pen fall away onto the small desk with the scattered ink across my pages. For a split second I turn to eye and read over what Nayelie has written. I saw her peeking over mine earlier when Principal Leighton first left.
'You like puzzles Nayelie, figure this one out.' She's copied down the quote I'd started off with. I sink in my seat further, as guilt submerges me.
It doesn't matter that the girls contributed, this is all my fault, and I don't know whether I'm grateful for Nayelie's pity or disheartened that she feels pity for me at all.
I look over to what I've written, my eyes roaming over the few pages I've been able to fill in the long time it's taken Principal Leighton to return.
I've written about how it started, Nadia and I seated at her place, a couple of days before school. I wrote when Mom had interrupted and suggested I finish what I'm doing at the Zhu's — I even got around to writing about math. The fucking math.
I won't turn it in though, I could never.
I look up from my own sheet and meet Nads's wandering glance, she looks away almost instantly. Guilt vivid in her gaze, I feel a line crack through my heart. It's okay to be mad at me, I want to tell her, I get it. I don't want her to feel invalidated by her own guilt.
Amber is so entrapped within her paper she doesn't even realise my gaze has fallen onto her; I quickly disband the action when I begin to hear the front door of the office open. The smell of smoke isn't non—existent but it's slowly becoming fainter in the distance.
Before Principal Leighton can reach his own office, I scribble out the pages of paper before folding them and placing them in my bra. I don't know why I felt the need to write everything down, as if I would actually hand it in.
A beat later the office door opens, and it slams against the back of one of the bookshelves, I cringe at the sound completely ignoring the gush of wind that also enters along with him.
"It seems the servers were down, and the firefighters said it's safe to be on school grounds, so don't for one minute think you are free to leave."
I look up at him, raising a brow. This is not the man I know, at all. He's so much more colder then usual. Is this the father Constance has to deal with? Is this the man he is when he doesn't have a crowd of students watching?
"I have other commitments to attend to," Amber stands, leaving her pen on the desk as she grabs her bag and elegantly slips it onto her shoulder.
"Sit."
She looks over her shoulder at him, raising a brow. "You don't command me."
