New Beginnings, Old Rivalries
The morning air was heavy with the promise of another intense day. Freen stood at the school gates, clutching the strap of her worn backpack as the students streamed past her. Chaotic laughter and quick exchanges filled the air, but it all felt distant to her. This wasn’t her world. This wasn’t her place.
She’d never imagined a school like Ardenvale Academy for Girls. The grandeur, the sleekness, the way everyone seemed to belong—Freen had always dreamed of a school like this, but now that she was here, she realized it was nothing like she’d imagined. It wasn’t welcoming. It was a battlefield, and she was an outsider.
Her uniform, though meticulously chosen and pressed the night before, didn’t fit as neatly as the others. Her shoes, though polished, lacked the shine of those worn by the elite girls around her. She could already feel the weight of their eyes on her, noticing every imperfection, every detail.
Freen sighed and moved forward, her heart thumping with each step. She’d worked hard to get here—scholarships, late-night study sessions, pushing herself until she could no longer see straight. But none of that seemed to matter when she stood in the heart of Ardenvale’s pristine courtyard. Here, it wasn’t just about being good. It was about being better than everyone else.
Her thoughts were interrupted as she passed by the group of girls gathered near the main building, chatting and laughing in their tight-knit circle. Their uniforms were immaculate, their hair perfectly styled. At the center of the group stood Becky Armstrong—tall, composed, with an air of confidence that made her seem unreachable.
Freen’s chest tightened. She had heard whispers of Becky—of her brilliance, her charm, her effortless dominance in everything she did. She was the gold standard at Ardenvale, the one everyone admired and envied. The girl who seemed to glide through life with grace and perfection.
But Freen wasn’t here to admire. She was here to prove that she belonged. She couldn’t afford to be intimidated.
Her eyes locked onto Becky for a brief second, and there it was again—the unspoken challenge. A flicker of something that was neither kindness nor indifference, but something more complex. Becky didn’t seem to care about the other students, but she sure seemed to notice Freen.
For a moment, the air felt heavy between them, as if the distance between their worlds had narrowed, just for a second. Then, without a word, Becky turned and walked away, the crowd parting for her like the sea for a queen.
Freen stood there, watching her. A part of her wanted to look away, but another part—the part that drove her every day—kept her rooted to the spot.
She couldn’t look away.