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Three

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Seth

I was starting to understand why the people in the novels I read became murderers.

It had been only a few days since I had arrived at Seven Hills, but I already felt one minor inconvenience away from snapping.

Reason number one: the fact that I had been sent here in the first place. It was all right that my parents were divorcing; after all, it had been a long time coming, and in the end, it was their decision to make. When they had sat me down at the kitchen table, apologetic smiles pasted over obvious discomfort, I had even been relieved for a split second to know that this was it—the storm cloud that had been building up under the roof of the house, growing darker and more threatening with every year that went by, charging the air with so much tension that my hair stood on end every time I came through the door, was finally erupting and it wasn't as loud as I had feared. No earthshaking thunder or blinding flashes, just a sheepish apology for the way things had been lately and an earnest This has nothing to do with you, we both love you so much. None of that would have been a bad thing in itself. It was only when my dad slid his phone over to me, the words Seven Hills International Boarding School for Boys and Girls written in an elegant font at the top of the website he had pulled up, that I realized I had let my guard down too soon. This was absolutely fucking terrible, but not in any of the ways I had anticipated.

Reason number two: Seven Hills was just as god-awful as I had thought it was going to be. Surrounded by the thick castle walls in the middle of bloody nowhere, I was a fish out of water. While things had come easily to me at home, I suddenly had to fight tooth and nail not to fall behind in all of my classes and spent the afternoons wading through a flood of homework that inched higher every day. Every bit of fun that might have remained was prevented by the thousands of rules that Amelia was all too glad to remind me of on a daily basis. Around her and all the other stone-faced boarders in their pristine uniforms, with shiny cars financed with their daddy's money parked behind the castle, I felt out of place and overly conscious of my ill-fitting blazer and scuffed-up shoes. Most of the time, I tried my best not to be seen; I simply sidestepped and ducked and blended into the brick walls whenever someone passed me by.

The only exception was Evelyn. Without her, I was sure I would have gone insane already, maybe turned into some kind of madman that had to be locked away in the attic like a character in some Gothic novel and whose wailing could be heard around the castle halls at night.

The third reason for my misery: Gabe.

Rooming with a complete stranger was anything but comfortable as it was; rooming with a complete stranger whose goal seemed to be to drive me mad was almost unbearable.

Every time I entered our room, it looked worse. Now it wasn't just empty food packaging and school stuff that were scattered all across the room, but also clothes, most of them dirty, and not only in his half of the room but in mine as well.

The cause of all the chaos was lying on his bed in nothing but boxers, playing something on his laptop. He wasn't wearing headphones, because that would have been too considerate, but was blasting his stupid gaming music out of the crappy speakers. To top it all off, he was eating crisps, sending crumbs flying everywhere when he yelled at his opponent.

Meanwhile, I was sitting at my desk, trying to study. "Gabe," I snapped, for probably the third time in five minutes. "Can you tone it down a little? I'm trying to do my homework."

Gabe looked at me, stuffed another handful of crisps in his mouth, and turned the sound up to its highest volume.

This little fucker.

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by philline
@writing00introvert
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