Guardians of the gates {YA Fantasy Romance, Fantasy Academia}

1.

I take a glance outside. In the distance, blue-gray stones rise from the grass. They look like gatekeepers with age-indelible scars, as if they are protecting something we don't understand anymore. A marked heritage, spoken and still, that reminds us of times when darkness met darkness and the sun and the stars were all the light there was.

Stonehenge.
The last sightseeing-stop before we are going home again.

I shift to the edge of my seat to get a better view. I've literally read every book, each article and have done a ton of research to absorb all there is to know of Stonehenge, its history and all the mysterious conspiracy stories that can be found on the internet. Call me a nerd, I don't care. It is what I love doing.

"Attention." Mister Heineken, distant relative of, is standing in the aisle with his legs a few inches apart. He is the worst of the entire pack of teachers we'd been allocated this year. It's not that he can't explain how the Romans build Rome or how Napoleon was defeated at Waterloo, you can look that up on the internet or read in books at the library. I'm sure if I would stop going to school as of tomorrow, I would become much wiser than sitting in the chairs, day in day out, hour after boring hour, trying not to fall asleep when the teacher is lecturing history as if he was dragged out of the house and plunged into a class of creatures that only appear in nightmares. No, the worst of all is that he has no idea of the hierarchy of the class, the things that take place when he turns his back or leaves of class to copy something meaningless out of some meaningless book. Or, and that is a theory I just recently came up with. He knows all too well, but chooses not to bother. Even worse.

Yara leans over the top of my seat. The backrest takes a plunge, causing the text message to disappear from my screen again. Damn! I really need to send that message to my mum, for Peete's sake. I clench my jaws to smother the vicious words brewing inside. I promised Gus not to provoke. He's right; we have to remain invisible as possible to survive this trip now that we're at the receiving end of all the bullying and ironic sneers by Yara, Indy, Jay, and Luc.

I look up and make eye contact with Yara. She fakes a smile.

"Love letters?" she asks mockingly, while snatching the phone out of my hands.

'O, fucking, don't!' I shoot up, trying to grab the damn thing as it travels across the backrest to the seat behind me.

"Nido, sit down! Everybody remains seated until I say you can move." Heineken shouts.

"Dangit." With a deep sigh, I sink back to my seat. I throw my most vicious look at Yara when I peek through the opening between the two seats. Yara irreverently wags the phone back and forth in front of her laughing face.

"Give it back," I whisper through my teeth, but Yara already swipes the screen with her index finger, just beyond my reach.

Yara is the cheerleader type that will stab you in the back whenever it suits her. She has long, dark-brown hair and is tall and gorgeous with round curves, not too much like mine, but perfectly balanced out to make boys' jaw drop when she passes by. All the boys want to date her and all the girls hate her for her good looks, except for Indy, who's her best friend since ever and never leaves her side, not even for the toilets. In that case, they are not that different from me and Gus, but heaven knows there definitely is a huge difference: they travel together out of joy, not out of fear.

"Texting your mom? Seriously?" Yara roars with laughter. "Mom, help me, aaaaarrggghh!" She laughs sarcastically, rolling her eyes to Indy. Then her expression turns evil, while lifting a corner of her mouth. Feverishly, she starts typing.

I shoot her a deadpan look. "Don't you dare!" I say, trying to grab my phone through the small opening between the seats, but my arm gets stuck halfway, hurting like hell. For Peete's sake, could things just work out for like just once? Is that too much to ask?