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Disclaimer: this story features some topics that may be sensitive, such as LGBTQ+ issues, teacher/student relationships, maybe some Wattpad clichés, drugs and alcohol abuse, etc.

Cool? Cool.

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Chapter 1:

The academy was set about half a mile down a dirt road, tucked behind rows of oak and pine trees. The hot September sun was blocked by a canopy of branches above the road as Chelsea and her mother drove along the bumpy trail. Chelsea was getting more and more agitated as they approached the front gates of the school. She was pissed that she had to spend an entire year locked away at a boarding school in Southern California, and had no access to her friends back in Los Angeles. She was pissed that her mom hated her enough to send her away. There was only one year left of school -- why couldn't she just suffer through that last year like Chelsea had to?

What a crock of bullshit.

The black wrought-iron gates separated to let them through. The grass was lush and vibrant with life, and there were colorful trees placed intrinsically to give the courtyard a classy, sophisticated look. Chelsea was too aggravated to pay attention to the landscaping, although there wasn't much room to ignore it since she was facing the window away from her mother like a child throwing a temper tantrum.

Neither of them said a word to each other the hour and a half long trip it took to get to the school. They'd already gotten their screaming and swearing and threats out of the way beforehand, so there was an awkward silence the entire ride. Now it was just another two minutes, then she wouldn't have to speak to her for another eight months.

When her mother pulled into the parking lot, Chelsea quickly got out of the car and snatched her bags and her skateboard from the trunk. She wasn't planning on wasting any more time with her mother than she needed to. She didn't even wait for her to catch up before she booked it for the front doors. A cool blast of air conditioning smacked her in the face as she kicked the doors open.

"You are Ms. Dawson, I assume?" spoke an older man's voice. She turned to her right to see a man, probably around his mid-forties, looking at her with a small smile. He had a lukewarm presence, like a distant uncle you only see every couple of holidays. He had short dark hair and a mustache, stray strands of silver poking through, and thin wire-framed glasses balancing on his nose. He was very tall and slight, dressed in a sweater vest, button-up shirt and khaki slacks. Did they send the librarian to meet up with her? That'd be really weird.

"Uh, yeah, that's me," said Chelsea in response. Behind her, she heard her mother coming in. Chelsea dropped her suitcase on the floor; her arms were already getting tired from carrying her own luggage.

The man stepped from around the from the front desk to greet her mother. His smile grew a little wider and more welcoming.

"And you are Ms. Dawson's mother?" he asked, extending his hand forward for a shake. She took it, maintaining friendly eye contact and offering a small grin -- Chelsea wanted to barf. She knew the politeness was only skin-deep. It's how her mother operated.

"Yes, also Ms. Dawson. Sandra."

"Wonderful to meet the both of you. I am Mr. Norris, the dean of this school. Sandra, Ms. Dawson, I would be more than happy to provide a tour of the school for you two, give you a brief history of the academy and all its accomplishments." He gestured towards the front door. He saw Chelsea trying to pick her bags up. "Oh, no, if you'd like, you can leave your luggage here. I can have one of the student council members assist in bringing them to your dorm."

Chelsea gave him a confused look but didn't respond as she placed the bags back on the floor. She clung tightly to her skateboard, though -- he would have to rip it out of her cold, unforgiving hands if he tried confiscating it. He didn't say anything when she stayed silent; instead, he turned to Sandra and said, "Let's go, shall we?"

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