I haven't taken a bath in three years.
It's not as gross as it sounds, I swear. I, of course, shower.
But stripping of my clothes, as the fabrics pool to my ankles, I barley keep standing. My body shakes, my pulse racing. Reminding me, at the very least, I'm alive.
I gingerly dip my toe in the tub's water, creating ripples in the liquid. I breathe. I can do this. I can.
I feel a warm tear stream down part of my check, leaving a salty taste of desperation when it lands near the corner of my mouth.
Breathing as steadily as I can without hyperventilating, I submerge my-
A knock sounds.
I open my eyes in a jump.
We had come to a stop at the doc. My taxi drivers scrunched sweaty figure knocking admittedly against the window.
I must have been dreaming again. God damnit. I was supposed to look father into their scholarship programs,or at least what to expect. I only know so much from what he had told me.
Unbuckling, I climb out of the cab, stepping onto the pavement.
I stand there. Watching. The water crashing against the shore before withdrawing back.
It's ridiculous now that I think about it. I fear bath water but I don't fear the chaos that is the ocean's current.
But the bath water killed him after all, not the ocean. Ironic isn't it?
A breeze of salt and morning after rain dew, tickled every one of my senses. It was almost calming having the wind carry my brown hair into my face, itching my nose, and brushing on my cheeks.
"$34.62."
"Hmm?" I look back to the taxi driver, having a smoke break leaned up against the taxi. Classy. He reeked of nicotine and chew tobacco the whole two hour drive here. No wonder.
"For the ride." He sneered looking at me like I was an idiot. Throwing the cigarette from in between his finger onto the pavement. Crushing the cancerous stick with his New Balances.
"Oh, yeah sorry." I shuffle in between my back pockets, and my raincoat. Finding nothing in my back pockets, I tried feeling out my wallet in my raincoast pockets.
Chapstick, gum wrapper.. uh.. wait ew. I pull out the half eaten cat treat. Great, Tubs, my grandmother's gray cat, left me a going away gift. How thoughtful.
Which reminds me Grams wanted me to call her once I got on board. A sudden clearing of someone's throat brings back my attention to the said someone, a very irritated taxi driver. "Um, okay so I don't have the money-" I sheepishly start out.
He pauses for a moment in a stance ready to charge his balding, pot bellied self over to me. "I just need my suitcase. You know where most people keep their money?" I really hoped that whatever I just said was calm enough to not hear the slight discomfort and uncertainty making its way up my throat.
Because who keeps wallet in their suitcase? I wouldn't be put it past him to throw me in the ocean if I got in his nerves. You should've of heard him on the drive here.
He clenched up his hairy baby hands into balled up fists. I don't think I am as quite nervous as before. Nevertheless he stomped off like a five year old to the trunk and pulled out the suitcase. Carelessly, if I might add. Dropping the suitcase onto the pavement like he was littering at a park. Makes sense, he seems like the type to litter.
Impulsive, easily tempered, the type that could never be spared the few seconds of effort it took to get to the recycling bin.
Walking over to the trunk where him and the suitcase were, I crouched down with him above me staring into the pack of my head as I unzipped the largest pocket.
I think he was trying to intimidate me as he spit next to his shoe, dangerously close to my hair. I shuddered at the thought of his aim being off. Thankfully though, there, in the netted slip pocket was my wallet. Quickly I pull the falling apart, warn, fake leather wallet out.
Once open, I stood up and handed him the cash. His clammy warm hands grazing my knuckle as I handed it over, on instinct not only from utility hating touching strangers mu gag reflex reacted.
I tried my best to ignore it, but I think he noticed my expression because he tensed his jaw before turning his back to me and stomping off. Wow, a man of many emotions. Scoffing I crouched again, and putting my wallet back.
Yet, as I attempted to get up, pulling my suitcase with me, I heard the sound of a car door slamming. Soon enough I was eating a face full of ignition gas as my first meal of the day. Asshole.
"BOARDING! Boarding all Lawrence Academy students! Final call will be in the next five minutes! Boarding!" A loud voice boomed over the parking lot and crowd near the dock. Turning around I see it. The snobbiest rich kid yacht you could possibly imagine.
The white, gold, and green where prominent colors everywhere. The yacht towered in size comparable to anything in hundreds of feet from us. A giant group of people stood at the dock before it. I couldn't help but want to roll my eyes at the fact I was that...a Lawrence Academy student.
"Boarding second to last call!" Snapping back, my eyes set to realization... I'm about to miss the ship. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Pulling my rolling suitcase behind me I sprinted across the pavement, and into the crowd. Thank god for the pacer test- actually scratch that I can't breath.
Huffing with hands on my knees, I set my suitcase near me. I got a couple strange glances, but I couldn't care less, it's not my fault I have this 800 pound suitcase to haul around. My grandmother was the one that insisted I practically take my whole room with me. It was only one school year after all.
"Okay that was final call, I'm going to call out names now, if your name is said go ahead and board. Check with the front desk and they will get you settled." The middle aged man said over his obnoxiously bright red megaphone. From the website's information page, I would have to guess that was Mr.Lawrence himself. His mildaged self still more fit than I would ever be.
Soon chartered softened, and he began "Cherrylyn Tile, Connor Berry, Tanner.." He went on for ages. I could've walked across the damn parking lot without a heart attack and still been here on time.
People shuffled and groaned as they waited for their name to be called, parting for the people who did get called to board. "Dakota Lakes, Scarlett..." I immediately tuned out whatever else he said immediately eager to board.
Nudging a couple people on accident, sparing me a few death glares. Great, I haven't even made it to campus and I'm already making enemies. Nevertheless ,I trudged my tired body up the railed ramp to the door of the yacht.
Jesus. I thought inside of most boats are supposed to smell like fish or something, right? Well whatever smell was inside of this yacht smelled like...rich. Simply capitalism, and the top one percent.
Everything was either a blaring obnoxious white, green, or gold. Marbled arches near the maze of hallways. The lobby alone looked larger than any house I've ever been to in my suburban neighborhood. The chatter of voices, giggles, steps on the marble ground, and life long friends reunitings filled the large lobby.
Being the new girl is going to take some getting used to. With the acceptance rate of 0.005% on a scholarship, it was likely I was going to be the only new kid for a while. It's times like these I wish I didn't work so hard for something that wasn't even a dream of my own. Because sure the studying and natural high IQ got me into this go forbidden school for multi-millionaire kids, but it also means in school I thrive, and social skills I lack.
I spot the front desk, surrounded by snobby kids asking for two assistant bellboys to carry their 3 Louis Vuitton duffle bags up to their rooms. Shocker they got exactly what they asked for.
There entitlement can be felt across the room, I almost roll my eyes just at the fact. Walking over I make sure to pull my luggage close. I can see the judgement in every rich kid that spares me a glance.
Yeah, the luggage was not Louis Vuitton but damn no need to throw me a pity look. I'm not starving with no home. I hate when people are like that, you know? I hate pity period. I am not weak, I can take care of myself without your puppy dog eyes.
As I reach the front desk a stern woman who had her eyes previously glued to the eliminated macbook infront of her glances up to meet my eyes.
"Good Morning dear." She smiles so genuinely, god she reminds me so much of my mom- Amelia before it happened.
"Can I get a name?" Her smile slightly diluted after I did respond to her first gesture.
"Oh, yeah sorry, good morning..." I glance over at her name tag to see Nolia. "-Nolia. Dakota Lakes." I try my best to redeem myself.
The clicking of keys begin, until she averts her eyes back up to meet mine. "Alright so I have you for level three, sector B, room B19. Give me one moment and I'll get your key card and activity card." She pushes herself back ward of her spinny chair before getting up and walking toward a back room and disappearing.
I took the time to look around. My eyes land on a boy next to me.
He was attractive. Like so attractive I was almost startled that he was even near me. The type you see on the front of a magazine.
My mouth drys slightly entranced by his effortless beauty.
His bronze face does no justice in the yachts lighting, dark thick lashes, short shaved black curls, glowing bone structure. He wear a dark form fitting shit sculpted perfectly to his toned body, the silver rings on his hands glinting off the lamps around the counter.
I assume he felt my gaze because next thing I know I am staring straight into his eyes. Holy... I am such a creep. Heat rises towards my cheek in embarrassment and I avert my eyes as quick as possible.
I hear a light chuckle, if that wasn't just my hysterical inner monologue talking, through my peripheral vision I see him staring at me. From my head and to toes, in a slow manner. Dark irises that prove to be just as mysterious as I could have guessed. As if I'm a sight to be memorized on this bought full of models. Must be wondering what a girl not on daddy's money is doing here.
Suddenly the doors swing open again. "Alright Dear, so here I have your key card and activity card." Nokia struts back, sitting down into her wheely chair and scooting herself closer to the desk. She slides both cards towards me across the granite top. I gratefully took each in my hand. Eager to just get to my room. Relax. Pretend I wasn't actually here.
"Alright thanks, Nolia." She just smiled sweetly, before getting back to work on her laptop.
Paranoid, I grabbed my suitcase from beside me, and began pulling towards the elevator avoiding any eye contact with that boy. 'God I'm a creep, aren't I? ' continued racing through my head as I stepped into the elevator.
My final conclusion as I made on my way up to my room: Yes. Indeed I am creep.
-
Authors Note:
Hey! Hope this caught your interest, and you're ready for the many chapter to come. But if it didn't end up interesting you, I'm still so grateful you gave it a shot either way!
Just to clarify, as said in the description, the school is NOT on the yacht. They take the school's yacht to the private island of the coast of Miami. So don't worry they aren't on campus yet!
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Much Love <3 Kay R.