Silver and Gold.

Lazy smiles and schemes. (1)

And once again, that bloody girl out did me. 

William Raycroft III clenched his knuckles so hard they turned white as he glared at the scoreboard, as if he could someone change his position with pure willpower. Nothing, nothing, was good enough to outdo the laziest girl he had ever met.

He had known since he was 12 that he would go to the University of Cambridge, his dad hadn't been donating to the school every year for nothing. They had welcomed him with open arms when he excelled in his A-level, managing to get 3 A*s easily.  Every man in his family had; Raycroft Law was celebrating it's 200 year anniversary this year, which was basically proof of 200 years of his family being exemplar.  So whenever he was faced with the situation of not being the best, it enraged him....he felt he was somehow less than everyone around him.

Whilst all his rich friends wasted their time doing crack in some hooligan's basement every friday, he went to the library and studied; he didn't want to coast off his father, when the time came for him to become the CEO of Raycroft Law, he actually wanted to be as competent as his father. And, every friday, she was there too.

"Oh, willy!~ You're here already." A cheery, if not a little mocking, woman's voice brought him out of his rage and into crystal clear clarity; he didn't even turn to face the cause of his constant status as the "first loser" (second place in his mother's eyes), he knew it was Efia Nyamekye or "Effie" to everyone who swarmed the popular girl.

Effie's manicured little hand was on his back as she peered at the board, she was too short to peer over his shoulder, so instead she peeped her head out from behind William's (quite muscular) back, her new black straight 28-inch weave swaying with the movement. A quick scan of the board showed her place at number 1, as always. She threw her head back and let out a diabolically girly giggle, in William's opinion. Everything about her was annoying; the way her eyes lit up, the way she always had her head on the table in lectures, the way she was never stressed before exams, the way she just seemed to top everyone, even him, so effortlessly.

"Don't call me that. I've told you that before." William composed himself before speaking, lest his ruffled state become obvious. Of course, Effie knew he was angry anyway; that's how it had been for a whole year at this point--- he always tried one upping her, but she was an infinite amount of steps ahead.

As others shuffled past the board, too ashamed to check their positions, the two biggest neeks in Cambridge engage in their usual psychological warfare.

"Wow, Willy! 497/500 is incredible! Well done!" She clasped her  hands in front of her, eyes glittering with mockery, long black eyelashes batting in front of annoyingly beautiful brown eyes. William sneered, how such a small girl kept metaphorically pissing on him was a disgrace; a Raycroft shouldn't be out done by 158 centimeters of superdrug perfume and primark nails.

"It is, certainly. A score not many people achieve, I'll have you remember that." William brushed blonde locks away from his forehead and Effie giggled again-- he would be so handsome if he wasn't such a fucking snob.

"You're right, it's certainly not the score I achieved," Effie glanced closely at the board, "499/500, sounds about right for me." She tried to not boast, but when a rich boy was steaming to death in front of you over your ability to always get at least one more mark than him in every exam, you just had to revel in it.

"I doubt these marks help with that job in Tesco." It was a low, classist blow, but William was at his wits end; she had to be cheating. This girl spent half the year asleep right next to him---how the hell would she lose only 1 mark in an exam?