Chapter 1: Allerton High

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I try not to look up and speed up my pace. If I looked up, I'd have to see the dumb posters that Allerton High put up, all in insufferable Comic Sans. "Two heads are better than one!" Not when the other head is letting you do all the work. "Being in the social service club is FUN!" Sure, one meeting per week and the mandatory 50 hours of social service is fun.

And if you think Allerton High clubs are FUN...I'll just say this: You're in for a ride.

But hey, today's the day I get to go to my boyfriend's house. He's going to show me around in secret, and in my whole life, I haven't been to someone's house before.

The corridors are crammed with people, the voices talking overlap my thoughts. I repress the urge to plug in my earphones. It'd get confiscated.

Of course I knew the crowd would start chattering. Class is over, and everyone is dying to get out of this nightmare. And dying to see their friends, too. Unluckily for me, I don't have my gangI open my electronic locker–powered by Calloway Enterprises (my parents' company) and grab my phone. It makes a small binging noise, but luckily nobody notices. "I'm here." a message reads. It's from my boyfriend Cassius Lowell, and I read it in his smooth, soft voice. "Where are you?"

I imagine that he is smiling while typing this and thinking of me, and the thought alone is fantastical. I type in, "Still at school, so so so sorry!"

And then I stop. Someone's near.

I whip my head to my left when another voice hooks me in. "Evita Calloway?" I look over to see Penelope—the social pariah who's also clingy and tries to get everyone to hang out with her, although nobody wants to. I roll my eyes and turn over.

She's having her signature perpetual grin, because she's always happy to see me, and not because I'm the daughter of the Calloway Tech CEOs.

"Evie. Call me that." I spit, although I've told her a thousand times, and she doesn't listen and call me by my full name. "Evita sounds stupid."

"The Calloways, um, I mean, you have announced their next project—a sentient AI, do you know anything, dude?"

"What does this have to do with me?" I snap, waving a dismissive hand.

"Well, you're related to one of the biggest tech companies of all—" I knew that. "—and you have a rep." She put a hand around me for no particular reason. "Come on, just tell me."

"I—" I flinch and push away her hand. "W-well, I guess I do know it's called...uhm..." I looked over to the nearest poster (rare) which read Northern Hemisphere!.

"Yeah, it's well—it's an investigation to go to the north pole, and–"

"Cool! I wonder if I can go, too!" she interrupts.

She really needs to stop involving herself in everything.

"-but it's, like, negative degrees there."

She nods slightly and an awkward silence ensues until she breaks it. "So, dude...wanna hang out together?"

I scowled. I knew she would say that.

But Cassius. Although this might make me be alone in recess again, I don't care. "Uhm, sorry, but I have gym class."

Her expression darkens. "You always have gym class."

I step a few steps back, looking to get away from Penelope.

"Just skip it." she muses again, wrapping her hands around me. My classmate Lizzie walks past me and gives me an expression that says You good bro?

I rummage my head for another excuse to get out of school. "I mean, gym class with Ms. Au Yeung." I said.

Penelope gets her hands away from me and looks at me. I feel a grin growing on my face,

I've made a pretty good excuse, huh? "I'm really sorry, but I'm late, like, uh..." I stutter, suddenly finding myself at a loss for words. "For tutorial class!"

Penelope's mouth falls open as I turn my back and dash out of the school. Along the way, I hear people muttering and wondering why a random freshman is running across the corridor, but I'm glad I'm out of this place. (Hey! Wouldn't you be?)

"Very late!" I chuckle, feeling the wind in my hair.

"Late." she echoes as I bolt to the school gate.

"Yes, late." I confirm. "Late for Cassy."

"Wait—Evita, I mean, Evie!" she screams, and for a second I feel a twinge of pity for her. But when she grabs my shoulders tight, no, no, I am not pitying her.

I escape her clutches and burst out of the automatic school gate (also by Calloway Industries), the other high schoolers all staring at me. What could they be whispering? Oh my, that's Caine Calloway's daughter! Wowee, she looks hideous! And the most common of all: Why is her dad named after a biblical figure? I look back, and Penelope is gone.

The sky is gloomy, smoke surrounding it. I put on my smoke mask, bend my legs and sprint towards my dearest.

(Author's Note: Don't miss my lame-ass writing jokes.)

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