Young Elite - Chapter #3 - by itsvlada

Aurora’s POV

After classes, where we mostly got to know the teachers, we are all escorted to the rooms: to the right and left wing on the second floor. But as soon as I freeze in front of the door, where there are already two girls, Anna Jenkins stops me, as if she suddenly remembered something.

“Come with me.”

I nod and follow the woman. We head back to the first floor and enter the vice-principal's office. The principal is here too, and... Alex Bass What is this arrogant jerk doing here?

“Good afternoon, " the principal greets and gestures for us to take a seat.

I watch Alex and sit in a chair. The guy is seething. He literally looks ready to explode right now, in front of our eyes. His posture is tense, arms crossed over his chest. Black strands curl above his temples, and his leather jacket is unbuttoned, revealing a striped t-shirt underneath. When did he have time to change?

“I didn’t sign up for this,” he roars, his voice booming. “I’m not going to be with her! This is…”

He turns to face me.

Disgust. There’s nothing but disgust there. He touches me with a sticky touch, as if I’m dirty beyond redemption.

“I have a request from your grandfather, Alex.” The principal watches the guy, clearly knowing what’s going on.

No one, however, explains to me what the hell I’m doing here.

“I don’t care!” he huffs.

His gray eyes bore into me. He looks at me like I’m nothing. Sharply. Piercingly. It twists my insides. It hurts. Intentionally. He’s proving who he is and who I am.

“Aurora,” the vice-principal addresses me. “You were the best student in the orphanage. What’s more, you showed yourself to be the best in the entire region and graduated with a red diploma. That’s why you were taken here. We need class leaders. You are expected to organize events, assist teachers when asked, and set an example for our students. You are already adults, legally of age, and this places some responsibility on your shoulders.

The woman looks at me expectantly. What can I do? I nod.

“Wonderful. So, Alex is the class leader. You are his assistant.” The woman turns to the guy.

“You can pick a few more assistants to make your work easier.

"I..." I say, confused. He’s silent.

Should I thank them? For what? For turning me into Alex’s target?

"I’m not going to be with her..., " Bass huffs and storms out of the office under the principal's shout that there was no choice given.

Silence hangs in the office. Anna Jenkins smiles sheepishly. The vice-principal takes off her glasses. The principal follows my new classmate out.

"Don’t worry, Aurora.”

It’s the vice-principal. The woman cautiously rubs her made-up eyes. She looks somewhat tired and irritated.

"It's only your group that has this problem," she groans. "In all the others, where there are orphans, it somehow... went more smoothly.”

"Alex is a complicated boy, we knew that. The principal knows." Anna Jenkins glances at me sideways.

Complicated? He's just a spoiled rich kid who thinks he's too good for someone like me. I'm basically nothing to him. I'm sure he's going to do his best to take me down. Frankly, it was written all over his face in class, and now he’ll find out that we're basically stuck together.

I'm his assistant, after all.

The principal and Alex walk back into the office, and it's clear they've been discussing something serious. The tension's so thick you can cut it.

Alex grits his teeth and mutters, "Fine."

He doesn't even look at me. I'm just invisible to him. Not that I'm surprised. It's not even hurtful; it's just annoying. I want to show him I'm not just some nobody, but what's the point? Rich kids like him can't see beyond their own noses.

Anna Jenkins and the vice-principal breathe a sigh of relief.

"Great," our curator says with a smile. "Aurora, Alex, let's head to the class leaders’ room."

I get up and trudge along behind her. She's in front, Alex is behind me, and I can feel his eyes on the back of my head. It's like a knife to my skin, cutting deep.

The class leaders’ room is on the second floor, right between the two halves of the building where the dorms are. We step inside, and it's actually pretty nice. There's a big table in the middle, with sunlight pouring in from two windows. There's even a fake fireplace in the corner that looks like the real thing. Under the windows, there are couches, and shelves are stocked with stationery.

Anna Jenkins says, "I'll leave you two to it. Oh, and here's a key for the room, Alex. You're the class leader, so you'll need it." She glances at the shelves. "Those have the rules for leaders and assistants. Get familiar with them, okay?" With that, she walks out and closes the door quietly.

The whole time she was talking, I could feel his hatred burning a hole in my back. So I turn around and stare him straight in the eye, refusing to back down.

"Do you have a problem?” Bass snorts. Disdainfully. He slightly tilts his head, causing dark strands to fall over his light eyes.

"It’s you who’s the problem, orphan.”

I narrow my gaze.

"You are not my problem, Bass, I know how to deal with people like you.”

"Oh, right, your mommy taught you to fight back, didn’t she?" There’s hatred in his voice. He mocks me. He knows… I don’t have a mom.

I step back. I hit the table. It’s hard to restrain the surge of anger. Heat rushes through my body, almost screaming that I should respond. Dignified. I can't let him talk like this. I can’t. He’ll find a weak spot and keep pushing on it, constantly. But what can I do if I am a complete weak spot?

"At least my mom can be sure she didn't give birth to a monster."

That's who he is. Yes.

His gaze flashes with pure, shining anger - beautiful, if you're a psycho.

"Take it back," he growls, stepping closer. "I don't forgive mistakes."

"You're the monster, Bass , that can't be hidden," I whisper, proudly meeting his gaze. "You're a monster who thinks you're invaluable. But you're wrong. People like you are empty. There's nothing inside you. Only an abyss."

Silver destroys, melting me, killing. Alex stands close, his boiling hatred hitting my nose, strong and sharp.

He leans in closer. His light scent of perfume mixed with mint and lemon overpowers me, forcing me to half-open my mouth and gasp for air.

I'm seething inside, trying to conceal my trembling. But I'm not sure I'm successful.

"It's not me who's empty," he hisses. "It's you. You're insignificant, a fleeting presence. No one will mourn your loss. You're a lonely, cursed soul, destined to sell yourself in dark alleys for a fix. That's your fate, Waldorf." His tone is detached, laced with loathing, crushing me.

My hand shoots out, slapping him hard. The sting lingers on my palm, while tears prickle in my eyes. I loathe myself for losing control. He sees my tears, and a smug smile spreads across his face, triumphant that he's struck a nerve. I'm paralyzed, caught off guard by the hatred that refuses to subside. He's found his prey – me – and now he'll toy with me, then destroy me.

I was wrong. I'm not equipped to handle someone as ruthless as him.