Chapter 13

RICHMOND PARK ACADEMY was a closed ecosystem, separate from the land beyond its gates. It seemed to have its own fashion trends, customs and sociocultural norms.

Due to strict school rules that prohibited students from getting overly creative with the dress code, students really tried their best to stand out in terms of hairstyle and foot covering. I arrived to Richmond Park with sensible Mary Janes, according to the Recommended Dress Code section laid down on the school’s official website.

Unbeknownst to me, October was Oxford shoe month. I walked to class with girls sneering in my wake. Emily, my new seatmate in Calculus, was kind enough to point out the anomaly on my feet during a 5 minute break.

"Mary Janes are sooo last month," Emily had whispered. Not in a judgmental way, rather, in a matter-of-fact way.

As someone who failed to comprehend how one's shoes factored into one's future, I merely blinked. "So?"

Emily's face paled in mortification. "So? Did you just say so? In the face of elevating your social status? You are committing social suicide!"

I, again blinked at her, unsure how to respond.

"I'm supposed to get Oxford shoes now?"

Emily nodded urgently. "Wait, what are you?"

I recognized the question, it was ubiquitous in small talk carried out by strangers.

"Faction five," I replied. The words still sounded strange coming from my mouth. The entire Factional system gave the school this dystopian air. It felt surreal being apart of a 'faction', much less declaring such aloud.

Emily's features twisted. "Makes sense," was all she said.

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"Nothing," she chirped, the slightly sour expression immediately transforming into a bright smile. "I'm a twelve, by the way."

"What's twelve like?"

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"What are the people within like?"

Her features continued to twist in perplexity and bewilderment. "Uh, I don't know? Kind of popular, I guess."

From in front, I could hear Jaxon snickering. My face twisted into a scowl at the memory of last night's events. Out of nowhere, I recalled someone saying something about Factions 2, 8 and 12 being the least intelligent factions. I wasn't one to judge people based on first impressions but...

"What are you dressing as for Halloween?" Emily asked me.

I slowly turned to look at her. "Isn't Halloween in like, a month?"

"Yeah!" she nodded with urgency. "That's too soon, oh my gosh. I was thinking of going as cat-woman or a demon with dark eye makeup."

Not typical at all.

"I once went as Daenerys," I told Emily. "Before she 180-ed in the final season."

"What? Who?"

"Game of Thrones," I clarified. "You know, that dragon chick?"

Emily's stare was blank. "Oh, that show. Sorry, I tend not to waste brain cells on dumb things."

Ms. Elliot, the Calculus teacher returned to the classroom then, effectively ending all hushed conversations that were taking place.

I dreaded History class for several reasons. First and foremost, because we were covering the boring part of the U.S. history right now - the Gilded Age of the 1880s. Secondly, because it dawned upon me that Darren the rapist was in my History class.

The latter knowledge was something that made me balk as I mulled over the possibility of conflict. I didn't want conflict from anyone. I'd been invisible for most part of my week-long tenure at this prestigious place. But I felt the opposite of that when I entered Class 104 of Block Bernadette.

I could feel Darren's eyes boring into my form. He was the first person I spotted in the group of males who were laughing raucously at the back. He was just there, with arms splayed on both sides, it made him look so broad. He looked like he'd walked out of an Abercrombie and Fitch ad. I gulped. Don't recognize me, Darren.

I took a seat at the front, the furthest from Darren and his possibly Faction Eight friends.

I focused all my energy into taking notes today. I kept a Moleskine for religious note scribbling purposes. It always felt pointless, because I knew that while note-taking helped for some people, it didn't do it for me. However, it appeased the History teacher enough, so I always scribbled his shit down to keep from falling asleep.

As soon as class ended, there was a presence behind me. On me. A hand on my shoulder, to be specific.

"It's been a while since someone last pulled a disappearing act on me," Darren said.

I brushed his hands off my shoulders. "Don't touch me, Darren."

I gathered my things quickly, before forcing myself to stand up and face him.

Trauma sickens you with trepidation, you find yourself projectile vomiting blood, bile and your consumption over the past few days, which has truthfully been nothing but copious amounts of tea and substances. The acid burns your throat with such forceful dominance and you begin to cry. You find that the only people who truly help are the freaks themselves. You begin hitting yourself, ready to slice your arms open and wonder why - why me and how and why does it only end when I immerse myself in life threatening endeavors.

I blinked. And it was gone.

"Andrea?" Darren was going. Concern etched the features of the rapist.

I pushed past him. It was a different day now, a different guy, a different life.

✖

Dr. Nguyen was handing back our test papers when I entered the Chemistry lab. The Chemistry lab was on the bottom-most floor of Block Cathrine - most of the science labs were. The labs overlooked Richmond Park's courtyard, sometimes referred to the Richmond Park itself.

Courtyard was perhaps humbling. The sweeping ground featured a lily pond, life size statues of the Richmond heiresses, stone tables, along with professionally maintained gardens. The Bermuda grass was cut by hand, with scissors, every other day, to keep it just at the right length. Something that students like me took for granted each time I trampled the grass.

"How'd you do?" Elias asked from beside me.

When Dr. Nguyen returned my paper, I'd flipped it over before I could see my marks, or lack thereof.

"Bad."

"How bad?" He queried curiously.

"Probably scored a zero," I looked away.

Elias didn't push it. Chemistry classes were quiet these days, on my end at least. I took notes and I paid attention. Elias slowly faded from a fantasy into merely a lab partner. Dr. Nguyen was doing Salts today, a topic otherwise despised by students due to the copious amounts of crystal colors and chemical names to memorize.

When the bell rang, I couldn't help myself. I grabbed onto Elias's forearm, stared into his eyes and said, "Potassium permanganate, acidified by sulphuric acid turns from purple to colorless."

Elias's lips twisted into an amused smile. "Someone was paying attention."

I let go of his forearm. I could feel my cheeks heating up at the memory of a passionate night that happened not too long ago. His lips looked just as luscious today, if not more. I sighed, dispelling inappropriate thoughts. We only made out, I chastised myself, stop being pathetic.

"What are you doing this weekend?"

The lab was clearing now now. Dr. Nguyen, from the front eyed the both of us with an impatient look. We took it as our cue to leave. Elias was a neat person, or a minimalist depending on how you view it. Where I had an array of pens and doodles scattering my desk and my textbook, Elias's desk was impeccable. He was done packing by the time I'd successfully capped all my pens.

I hadn't answered his question. He stood in front of my desk and waited for me, foot tapping to music I couldn't hear. Finally, I was done. And my heart was thumping to the unspoken implications of his questions. Why would he enquire about my weekend?

"Probably studying."

Elias went, "Oh."

We'd exited the Chemistry lab. It was the last class of the day, there were students milling in the courtyard. We stood face to face outside the lab, blue eyes staring into hazel ones.

"Are you trying to ask me out?" I joked.

But he responded by placing a hand beneath my chin, tilting my face in different angles. It was strange, but not something that I wanted to interrupt. Finally, he took a step away. His eyes never left mine though.

"You're what, in Faction Five?"

I nodded slowly.

"You'll do," he said.

"I beg your pardon?"

Students were staring now. I'd been here for slightly over two weeks, but I'd been here long enough to learn that there were several people in this school who were akin to celebrities. Meaning you'd walk down the hallway hearing their names in conversations in the most stupid contexts.

Elias was one of them. But one needn't a grapevine to tell that he was made of godly matter. One look at him would have been enough to tell that this dude had the ability to make girls drop their panties. And guys drop their boxers or whatever.

"Wanna come home with me this weekend?"

My jaws dropped in an exaggerated fashion.

"Is that a yes?" Elias threw on a million dollar smile, one that made me momentarily forget my name. "Please. You're perfect for it. God put us together for a reason. I'll beg if I have to."

"What exactly - "

"I'll explain later. Plenty of time in the ride to San Jose."

"Are you actually trying to ask me out?"

Elias paused for a few seconds, before replying with a careful answer. "Only in a technical way. I'll explain later, I promise. Meet me at the entrance in an hour, please?"

"I'm so confused," I said honestly.

"I know this is probably weird - okay, very weird. But I wouldn't be this persistent if I wasn't sure you'd be perfect for the job."

"A job?" I echoed suspiciously. "Am I getting paid?"

Elias's lips turned upwards until he was smiling widely. "Perfect! Say that again."

I frowned. "Say what again? …Am I getting paid?"

Elias nodded with an unwavering smile. "So perfect, I love it."

Thoughts fired through my mind at the speed of light. Could I really afford to spend (what sounded like) a weekend with Elias? The faces of my parents flashed in my mind's eye. I really wasn't here to enjoy myself. I had a year to retake my SATs, get into everyone's good looks, get the right recommendation letters from the right teachers, join the right co-curricular clubs and hopefully graduate with enough credit to secure myself a decent college.

"Pack your worst clothes," Elias said. "Don't wear cosmetics... oh wait, you don't. Well, yeah, pretty much just be yourself."

"Are you insinuating something?"

He chewed on his bottom lip to contain another smile. "Only that you are worthy of my time."