The Golden Pear [YA - Featured]

♫~Notes 02~♫

 The next day, Freya arrived at her school gate a few minutes before the last bell. Golden leaves and flowers climbed across the metal bars, leaving no space for guessing which academy this one was.

Kin High accepted only the best of the best or filthy rich kids. Getting a scholarship wasn't easy either, and even with it, nothing was rosy.

Pacing steps came from behind her, and a fellow student bumped into her. Instead of an apology, he snickered with his friend, watching over the shoulder as Freya kept her body balanced.

"Sheesh, no point today," the first boy mumbled as he didn't score in the "Pushing Freaka Around" game.

They walked away, chatting about which girls they want to date this week.

She didn't pay them any attention. They could have a vegetable for their face, and she wouldn't notice. She only fixed her crumpled uniform and continued heading into the school. Her antisocial tendencies didn't help her open up to anybody or form even the faintest friendship.

Her eyes trailed to the school's emblem. The proud kirin stood on its hind legs, and the big sun shone above it. The constant reminder only noble or high-standing people could enter. Freya only frowned at the crest, gesturing she didn't give a dang.

Columns covered by climbing roses guarded the cobbled path. It was another popular symbol among the vast garden around the three-storey building. Students could also visit a private pool, an enormous library, or a gym where they hosted local and national sports events.

The fountain in front of the main entrance rose to ten meters with seven levels. The water running from the top provided half of the hour-long loop of tricks as it descended.

From all the fancy items, this fountain gave the ginger-headed girl the greatest peace of mind. A small daisy grew near the edge of the grass. Freya glanced at it with a sad smile. By the evening, one of the ten gardeners tending this school park would mercilessly tear this flower. Nothing could break the perfect greenery.

She climbed the marble staircase, entering the main hall. On her left, laid the locker rooms for noble and rich kids, so she turned the other way.

Snickers echoed around the red-headed girl as the wealthy girls whispered about her uniform, giggling and tossing their long hair in an overly dramatized manner. Unlike them, she couldn't afford to have ten sets of the same clothes.

Though the school would start in a couple of moments, the area bustled with life. Students chatted, dashed, laughed, or stood as if nothing could happen to latecomers. Everybody knew what locker she had, as many of them drew over it. At first, she cleaned the chalk pictures, but they soon returned.

Her eyes trailed the horrid grammar and spelling mistakes, resisting the urge to sigh or shake her head. Freya wasn't Leonardo da Vinci, but even she could draw that stick cow better.