Who Are The Kings

Chapter 11: Looks Pretty Good To Me

Ashley's POV:

I was way more nervous than I'd like to admit. We were popular at high school because we were different. Richer actually. But here, we weren't special.

Everyone was just as rich as we were.

Or even richer.

Not that we care, but we did want to fit in, and that's normal.

Nobody wants to be left out.

I click on the handle of my car keys to lock the door and slid the keys in Stella's purse.

She looked at me reassuringly and I nodded.

It was time we went up the stair case and into the building.

As we marched up the stairs people started whispering left and right. Or I was just being paranoid.

"Why is everyone whispering! My god, judgemental much?" maddie breaks the silence.

Yeah. I wasn't being paranoid.

We make our way inside.

Woah

The hallways are dark marble floors and white walls, not a hand print or scuff mark anywhere. The doors are a glossy black, numbered with silver digits that match the globe shaped handles.

It felt royal.

It was crowded with students, and the chaos was so perfect, like a movie. There was the couple that was always making out on the left side of the hall, and about ten feet farther down, the cliquey girls. Opposite them, the jocks, and between them, the parade of band geeks with their huge instrument cases. There were the aerospace tech kids who never did anything but make paper airplanes (I thought those only existed in high schools, but apparently colleges had them too) and the fashion kids that wheeled mannequins and clothing racks down the halls.

But everything and everyone was ten times more fancy than high school.

I stood still and looked around inhaling the tell-tale scent of bleach and pine sol. Sun streamed through the glass front doors, gleaming off the freshly buffed floors. Rows of lockers stood like proud sentinels, displaying their uniforms of fresh paint. I smiled. Everything was as it should be.

I looked over to see Maddie and Stella just as taken away, lost with the squeaking of shoes, indistinct murmur of conversation and shuffling of papers - all was very familiar to us, but still engulfed us with a feeling of novelty.

"Girls! Hello! Welcome to UCLA, how do you like it so far?" Erika jumps in the most welcoming smile painted on her face.

"I already love it here." I grin

"Same!" reply mad and stel

"Let's go grab a bite at the cafeteria before classes start." offers Erika

"You know where that is?" asks her Stella

"Of course I do, I'm not a freshman. It's my third year here actually."

"Oh really? That's cool, and yes I'm hungry so let's check that caf out." says Madison

We follow Erika down the hall and up the stairs until we reach the cafeteria.

As soon as I walked into the cafeteria, my eyes ran wild. I didn’t know where to start. The aroma of food entangled in my nose, as my ears were flooded with chatter and laughter.

Rows of tables were neatly aligned as throngs of people occupied every last one of them. Fancy lighting decorated the ceiling, casting a luminescent glow upon the glass table tops.

Windows lined a whole side of the caf, and they glittered underneath the warm end of summer sunshine.

The food court was stacked with every food one could dream of, from chocolate coated strawberries to shrimp noodles and sushi.

The cafeteria is a cacophony of loud chatter, each table a cosseted huddle of people raising their voices to be heard above the din. The food is secondary to the information that is exchanged here. Over the over-salted fries alliances are formed and gossip traded like poker chips. As I stand in the queue for my plate of snob breakfast I cast my eyes about as if in a wandering daydream but really I'm taking note of who associates with who. If I'm going to get the information I need it's imperative I make the right introductions, know who to snub and who to flatter.

My friends snapped me out of my trans asking me what I was going to get.

After scanning the buffet I decide to get a spanish omelette with ginger ale tea. Erika gets raspberry pancakes with drizzled honey on top, Maddie french toast with scrambled eggs and freshly squeezed orange, and Stella gets organic oatmeal with avocado.

We make our way to the closest table and chat for a few. We had people staring at us every now and then, but it was nothing too annoying. We were new here after all.

Breakfast was delicious.

After around ten minutes the dean asks all the students to step into the auditorium for his welcoming speech.

The auditorium was grandiose and the burgundy seats were huge and crazy comfortable.

The wooden stage creaked under the dean's weight as he made his way to the mic. Lights were dimmed and a bright light was lit in his direction turning everyone's attention to the center of the stage.

After what seemed like forever, his welcoming general discipline cliche speech was over.

We stood up heading to the halls. Few minutes were left before classes started.

"Wait. One more thing I forgot to mention." states the middle aged man with glistening green eyes.

Everyone sat down again.

"After your first period, I want you all to come back into this room. I will be introducing you to some of this semester's exchange students. And I would love it if you would make them feel welcomed. Now you can all leave, and have a great first day everyone. " he concludes his speech ushering us to the main door as he dissappears behind the curtains and into the back stage.

He seemed fine. Strict for sure, but he did seem kind-hearted as well.

That was it. I checked the time; class started in a couple minutes. I was about to attend my first college course. I looked down at my phone to read my schedule.

"I have philosophy in aisle 7." I say

"I have history of the arts aisle 2" says Stella.

"I have that too." replies Erika before they leave to class together

"I have trigonometry which is right around the corner. I'll see you at lunch Ash."

"Yep, see you Mad."

Aisle 7 was pretty far away. I leave the building and make my way to the other one facing it before going downstairs.

Room 314

There it was. I took a deep breath and marshed inside.

People were already seated but a low buzz of chatter was still heard. The professor was still shuffling with her belongings.

As soon as she sees me she drops whatever she was doing and looks at me skeptically:

"Well if this isn't Ashley King." she greets.

The class turned dead silent.

I couldn't tell if she was being mean or friendly, her tone remained neutral.

And how did she know me already? I'm positive I've never seen this woman in my life.

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Is UCLA going to be as perfect as it seems? And how did the teacher recognize Ashley? Find out in chapter 12! x