Prison

Not only was Mason Prep a private school, but my father also registered me at one of the best programs in the country. According to the school’s website, they excelled in their academic programs and Athletics. Reviews from parents and former students spoke volumes of their reputation.

Unlike my last school, wearing uniforms is mandatory at the academy. The traditional uniform consists of a white button-up shirt paired with a black blazer.

The only downside is the females had to wear skirts. Of course, the males wore slacks. We weren’t allowed to wear pants. Typically, you couldn’t pay me enough money to be caught wearing a skirt. They’re too revealing, especially with my ass. I would rather avoid having a repeat of those mortifying memories. This time I don’t have a choice in the matter. I wasn’t going to miss out on this opportunity. Skirt or not, I was sticking to the lesser of two evils and the option that would get me a scholarship to get into college. My education wasn’t going to pay for itself. I couldn’t pave my way through four years of school empty-handed. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to start looking around for a job.

I inspect the uniform neatly placed on top of my bed. The clothes were here when I got back up to the room from breakfast. Considering the few staff that I've seen frequently around the house, I figured one of the housekeepers had put it here.

The rebellious part of me wonders what would happen if I showed up with slacks on. Rules are rules, and the academy was known for having strict policies. I wouldn't overstep. I had no clue what I was heading into, and my gut told me to tread carefully.

My movements are slow as I put on the uniform. I slide my feet inside the loafers before I walk into the bathroom. I know the snug soles would give me feet hell. My feet were already pulsing from the pressure. I'm sure I'll pay for it later.

Standing in front of the sink, I look at myself in the mirror. I was having first day jitters. It was taking every ounce of self-control not to hop back into bed.

I inspect my new uniform. The skirt ends right above my knees. I do one last double-take before my hands go through the unruly curls. I wash my face and moisturize my hair until I see my thick curls turning into a wet wavy texture. I rinse my greasy fingers under the water.

After I flip the light switch on my way out of the bathroom, I storm over to my dresser. I grab my tote bag sitting on top.

Without another glance at my unmade bed, I head downstairs. My father never mentioned how I would get to school. I didn't expect Melody to offer me a ride. He was oblivious to the fact that his daughter hated me. Last night I looked up the bus route and schedule. There was a bus stop about a mile outside of the neighborhood. It's a straight shot to the school, and it arrives early enough that I would make it in time for the first bell.

When I leave the house, I can practically feel the heat steaming my skin. There was no way I could get darker than I was, but I began questioning that theory from the scorching heat outside. I have fifteen minutes to make it to the bus stop. Otherwise, I would have no other choice but to walk. I was not walking more than I had to in this heat. Nobody was anyone home when I left. Aaron began his days early and ended them late. Trisha was absent most days. I recall my father mentioning she was a member of some country club. Trisha and some other wives of Aaron's friends hang out there together from time to time.

On the other hand, I had no idea where Melody was. The spot where she usually parked her car was vacant. I had reached the bus stop just in time. People filed onto the shuttle as I closed the distance. By the time I pull myself up the few steps, the door flaps shut behind me. Sticking my bus card into the tiny machine, it beeped as it ate my final quarter. As I walk through the narrow aisle, my eyes lock on the few vacant spots left in the back. I slump in the chair as the shuttle begins moving.

◆◆◆

Sweat covers my temples from the stagnant air on the bus. When the shuttle stops abruptly next to a bus stop, I spot a welcoming street sign with the school's name. I hop off the bus and head towards it. I move past a stream of trees and scan the road sign on the sidewalk as I pass. A large arrow pointed up with Mason Preparatory was printed in small letters above it. I peep the large buildings behind the trees. I quicken my steps before I glance at the watch on my wrist. I break into a jog when I see the time. I barely have five minutes to spare before the first bell rings. Although the school has an app where you can find your schedule and map of the campus, I had no choice but to make a pit stop at the front office because I was phoneless.

It hadn't occurred to me, until now, that I could have easily printed out the information from home. So much for being prepared.

I stride past a few more street trees. I go down two short steps before the path towards the buildings emerges. I walk down the sidewalk into the parking lot, examining the congested lot on either side of me.

The vehicles that occupy the spaces ranged from Bugatti's to Range Rovers. I see a few mustangs in a couple of parking spaces. From the looks of it, the entire student population has money. The annual tuition fee for this prestigious academy is a clear indicator that you have to be rich to come here. The average middle-class family salary couldn't afford to send their child here without financial aid. It was sad that you could find some of the best schools in the higher-income communities. It was crazy what money could buy.

Back home, the schools failed to provide the best resources to offer students. The minorities were struggling to catch up with the wealthier neighborhoods. My new home was far from the low-income area where I grew up. I was in an entirely different universe. I can't let my circumstances take control over my life. I have to dive into this opportunity with an open mind and strive towards my college plans.

Just as I pass the brick structure with Mason Preparatory Academy labeled on the front, I hear the bell ringing inside the building. I race down the short pathway as the final warning bell rings. I passed through double wood doors—my feet pads in the direction to the front office.

I release a harsh breath from my slightly parted lips and turn the door handle. An older woman watches me as I trail inside the office. My eyes sweep across her graying hair that's pinned back in a lower bun. Then to the reading glasses falling from the bridge of her nose. She observes me as I grew closer to the desk.

With a friendly smile, she eyed me over the glasses looming from her too-straight nose.

"How may I help you, dear?"

"I'm new here." I start cautiously.

My eyes fan across the receptionist's desk.

"I was hoping to get a printed map of the campus."

My eyes snap from the door on the opposite wall to the woman.

"What's your name, dear?"

"Rome Brown"

"Just Rome? R. O .M E., right?" She asked as her fingers began typing the keyboard.

I nod at the woman. With a glance my way, her face is grim before she continues typing on the keyboard.

The printing machine revs to life, and papers dispense onto the tray. The woman rises from the chair and takes the few steps to the print machine. Grabbing the pieces of paper, she makes her way back to the desk. She slides her wrinkly arm on top of the half table then places the sheets of paper on the edge of the glass.

"Here you go. All good?"

She put her elbows on the glass as I realize I have no idea where I'm going.

"I need help finding room 124?"

I can't risk missing my first class by getting lost in this place. The main building was enormous. It didn't help that there were two other buildings to complete the campus.

The lady glances at the papers before her eyes find mine.

"Once you leave the office, make a left and head three doors down. It's the fourth one on the left." Her lips stretch into a smile.

"Thank you." I smile at her as I walk out.

I trail into an empty corridor and reach the fourth door at the end of the hall. I stop and take a tentative step forward before I blow out a nervous breath and enter the room. The door clicks shut, and all the eyes in the classroom fall on me.

I breathe slowly from all the peering eyes. I trail past the line of desks facing the front of the room. I spot an empty desk in the of the room and start walking towards it. Three desks from my destination, and I merely felt the foot that obstructs my path.

I get caught off-balance before my body tramples to the ground. My glasses fly from my face the moment my shoulder clashes against the tile. Pain shoots through my arm, and I bite my lip to suppress the scream bubbling in my chest. I rise on all fours and sweep my hand across the floor until I feel my frames. I push them over my nose and stand to my feet.

With embarrassment flooding my senses, I sit in one of the seats resting against the wall. I slouch low into it and bow my head. When I peek up, annoyance spreads across the teacher's face. His voice booms at the front of the room.

"Enough." His eyes scan the classroom. "Settle down. As you can see, we have a new student."

"Care to introduce yourself, miss?"

I peek around the expectant room. My hand flaps awkwardly through the air.

My words come out shaky as I begin speaking.

"I'm Rome..." I say with a nervous smile plastered to my face. "

Well, let's welcome Rome class..." His lips rise into a friendly grin. "Welcome to English Rome."

I peek over to the desk next to mine. A guy with glasses bigger than his face glances my way and sneers. I break my eyes from him and look around the class. There were a few girls who look nice. I couldn't say the same for some of the others.

When the bell rings, I wait to leave until I'm the last person in the room. I get up when I see the teacher peeking my way. I step into the hall and stop in my tracks when students zoom past me. I ease my way through groups of people and enter a hallway lined with long cabinets on either wall.

I double-check my locker # on the paper and scan each locker to find mine. When I find it, I put in the lock combination before it bursts open. I throw my new literature book and a couple of new notepads in there and close it.

I scrunch low to grab the papers that fall out of my bag. My spine snaps upright when I hear a voice close by and get a glimpse of a tall girl was standing over me. She towers over me by at least a few inches.

The smile glowing from her face lightens my suspicions. She leans against a few lockers down from mine.

"Rome, right?"

I give her a curt nod. "Yes, and you are?"

Her eyes grow wide before she shakes her head.

"I'm sorry, my name's Savannah." She puts a hand on her chest.

"Nice to meet you. I think."

She smiles slyly before inching closer to me. "I don't bite. Thought you could use a friend."

"Um, okay."

Savannah straightens her posture then crosses her arms.

"Yeah, we're going to get along." She grins.

I give her a blank look. "Well, it was nice to meet you, but I got to search around for my next period."

I start walking down the hall. I pull the school map from my blazer pocket. I don't realize she's following me until I hear her voice at my back.

I glance over my shoulder.

"If you're not doing anything this weekend, there is a party."

"Why would you want me to go with you. We just met me."

"Why not you. You're the new girl, and I need new friends."

She did have a point. So far, my first day wasn't going that great. There's no foul in making a couple of new friends.

"Okay. When is it?"

"Saturday starts at 8."

Before I reach the door of my next period, I turn and face her.

"Cool. I don't have a phone right now, so we can plan the specifics during school."

She nods before she walks into my next class. I trail in after her and end up sitting at the desk next to hers. We share a smile before the bell rings.