Young Elite - Chapter #2 - by itsvlada

The 21st century is a time when sex is free,

but love costs money.

"Who are your parents?" he growls, his voice low and thick.

He enunciates each word, like he's trying to drill it into me

“Does it bother you?” I look up at him, head held high. No fear here.

“You're the orphan,” he says, like he's handing down a verdict.

His scornful stare wanders all over the place, as if I'm invisible. Like I'm so insignificant, he doesn't even bother to look at me. The way he's acting, I can tell he's just itching to tear me apart, rip me to shreds, just for being an orphan.

He grins, or rather, sneers. His soft lips curl up in mockery, contempt burning in his eyes. That's what scares me.

“Cool,” he drawls, clearly meaning the opposite. “Elite little orphan, do you know what that means?”

He leans in too close, and I flinch. But just as he's about to say something, a woman's voice cuts in.

“Alexander”

He straightens up, releases my desk, and turns away.

Just introducing myself, he says.

That's the curator. I breathe a sigh of relief, trying to hide my fear. I look down at my backpack, pretending to dig for something.

“Return to your seats, let's start our first lesson – homeroom. And let's get to know each other. I think Alexander would like to go first,” she says.

***

Alexander’s POV

I take my seat and slump into my chair, giving the lecturer a half-hearted glance. Ella's pouting, so I shoot her a look, shake my head, and turn to Rob. We've known each other since we were kids - we went to the same school, graduated together, and now we're all training to be elite fighters.

Rob's always had my back, even if he doesn't say much. We come from similar families - the kind that only accepts the best. But his parents are way more laid-back than mine. Ella, on the other hand, isn't relationship material - not that I'm looking for that. I don't care what she thinks, what she feels, or wants. There are plenty more like her, and if she's not around, someone else will take her place.

Ella thinks she's got me right where she wants me, but I'm not planning on getting tied down to anyone.

When we're together, all I need from her is a distraction - something to take my mind off everything that happened six months ago. When I don't think about that, I'm almost like a normal person.

“So, Mr. Bass, are we going to have to wait much longer for your story?”

I look away from the lecturer and catch sight of the orphan. She's got her head down, pretending to search for something. Pathetic - she's trying to show us how tough she is. I know her type - weak, relying on the system. My grandfather used to say that someone who's empty inside can't achieve anything in life.

“No,” I lazily draw out. And you can call me Alex,” I emphasize, looking at the teacher. “I’m eighteen years old. I study at the Academy of Young Elite. I plan to blow up society. Not literally,” I add as laughter arises in the class. “I love girls, sunsets, cocktails"sex on the beach. Oh, and I also like short skirts.”

After that, I scan the female half, catching lustful and interested looks, and, snorting contentedly, I fall silent.

“Very meaningful, Alex,” the curator takes the hint.

“I’m Anna Jenkins, your curator and English teacher. As you know,” she looks around at the present ones, “The Academy of Young Elite was created to provide our country with the right youth. We want to produce individuals who know how to live, use resources wisely, and prioritize. Our goal is to create leaders who can develop our society. Let’s continue. I will call a surname, you stand up and share a bit about yourself. Hobbies, dreams, your desires. I warn you, boasting about parents is not worth it; everyone here is your equal.”

“Uh-huh, especially orphans,” I snicker, interrupting Anna.

She falls silent. I feel her calm gaze on me as I observe the orphan's reaction.

“Everyone here is equal, Alex,” she emphasizes. “Well, let’s proceed.

The teacher starts calling names. Each student stands up and throws out a few words about themselves. When it’s Rob’s turn, I whistle. He laughs.

“Thank you for the applause, Mr. Bass,” once again spoiling the whole picture is this Anna Jenkins “One more such lesson disruption, and you will be sent to detention.”

“And what, will you spank me?” I retort defiantly.

Black strands fall on my forehead. I adjust them, running my hand through my hair, and scan the class with my eyes. Anna Jenkins looks at me scrutinizingly but remains silent.

“I don’t see the point of this introduction,” Rob throws out and sits back down. “I’m here to study, I’m not here to talk about myself. “

“Correct,” the woman says, examining my friend critically. “We are here to learn financial literacy, to uplift our country, to improve our lives.”

Anna Jenkins falls silent and scans the students with her gaze. It’s the orphan’s turn. Aurora Waldorf.

The girl slowly stands up. Her black hair, too long even for a ponytail, cascades just above her waist in curls. She blushes. She throws me a glance filled with hatred and sharply states:

“ I’m an orphan. I don’t want to share my dreams. The only thing I aim to do is put some sense into those who still have it in place. As for those who’ve long lost theirs and consider themselves cool, I hope there’s a special place for them in hell.”

She looks at me. She’s looking at me, squeezing the desk with her fingers. She pales. Her eyes become vivid. Green. Depth. Abyss.

I snicker, fully aware of who she’s hinting at. I look through her. Not lingering on this unfortunate girl. Just a glance that passes by so she doesn’t think of herself as someone special.

She sits down.

I turn away and see a note on the desk. I unfold the paper. Ella.

“Would you like to meet in the bathroom after lights out today?”

I smile. I look at Ella and nod. Our meeting after such stress is a necessity, not a desire. I just want her to make me stop thinking, to let me forget…

My parents shoved us in here hoping to correct those who had been spoiled throughout life. Well, they will be disappointed. After graduation, they won’t see adult people.