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All of our text books are loaded on our tablets for easy access, while hard copies are available at the library. I expect this keeps costs down since we’re a privately funded charter school.

From what my dad tells me, the school was originally founded for students with certain character flaws. The kids who were problematic to teach due to having issues with authority and impulse control.

I expect that’s another reason why there’s so many outlets for aggression at this school under the guise of excellence.

Sliding into my chair, I say my hellos as I get situated. This is a heavily attended jocks class. That’s not to say that Mr. Everly takes it easy on us, but he will take the school sports schedule into account while making his syllabus.

Chesterfield Prep has football, rugby, hockey, swim, track, volleyball, basketball, gymnastics, and soccer teams. It’s a school that understands scholarships will be important for many of its students and it plans accordingly.

We have several fields for sports, an ice rink, and gymnasium. The founder of our school wasn’t playing when they worked to get funding for us.

While I can afford to go to school wherever I want, Ciaran and Draven can’t. I met them at a hockey camp and we became really good friends. I was one of those kids who needed to have an outlet for my aggression. Hockey works perfectly for that.

We do everything together, keep shit under control so we don’t get too much heat from the administration here, and plan to enjoy our last year of high school.

Nothing is going to fuck it up.

“Should we be worried about anything?” Ciaran asks, his blue curls mixing in with the black. You can only tell in certain light that it’s blue. No one complains.

He wears a hat whenever he’s home so his dad won’t notice. His parents are constantly fighting. As long as he lays low and gets good grades, they leave him alone. Ciaran is counting down the days for school to end.

We’re waiting for a scout to find him. I’m being courted by a few of them, as is Draven. Ciaran is a fucking badass forward, so it’s just a matter of time. Our coaches work their tails off for their players, I know it’ll happen.

“Nah, I told Kelsie she could handle it,” I grunt, fixing my desk the way I like. “Moo is a mouthy little thing. Let’s see how she handles the girls.”

“Oh fuck,” Draven mutters, his fingers messing with his blond hair. “This could get really messy. Kelsie is crazy.”

“Don’t I know it,” I breathe, my head nodding in the direction of our history teacher as he closes the door, signaling the beginning of class. They don’t need a reminder that I have to live with the insane bubble of positivity.

Kelsie would happily call out a cheer while she ruins your life. She's multitalented.

Focusing on the teacher, I force myself to get comfortable. Noor Agassi isn’t my problem for the next hour. She is going to realize being the new girl at this school will be bad for her health.

I warned her when I dropped her off at the nurse’s office. She looks like a stiff breeze could knock her over.

NOOR

Gazing at the lunch room, I shake my head as I turn away. I didn’t have time during the drive to school to eat my protein bar, so I ate it between classes before a girl decided to slam me into the lockers.

Apparently, I inadvertently made a mistake this morning through no fault of my own. Everyone keeps muttering I’m an attention seeker and a puck bunny under their breaths as I walk through the hallways.

If only they knew that I have an aversion to jocks. It’s not for the usual reasons, nor is it because I think they’re meat heads. No, my issue is their insistence that they’re God’s gift to the world and deserve to be treated differently.

I also found out the names of the guys who were antagonizing me on my way into school. Alastair Steele, Draven Barrett, and Ciaran Ashford apparently have quite the fan base at Chesterfield Prep. I suppose the school mascot is called ‘the Devil’ for a reason.

A girl slapped me in the face on my way to physics class, and I fucking growled at her. I couldn’t defend myself because she timed it so we’d be entering a very teacher dense area of the school right after.

I refuse to create an issue where it’s my word against someone else's on my first day here.

I don’t have the energy to deal with the lunch room, and I’m not particularly hungry after eating my protein bar from this morning. The girls here are bold, and I didn’t see many teachers inside the cafeteria. Instead, I walk out to the courtyard to check my phone.

Rachelle added me to the family group chat. Every time I glance at it between classes, I get a warm, fuzzy feeling. They definitely decided to go all in on being my foster family, and checked earlier today to make sure I got my tablet and schedule.

I told them I had, but not exactly how. The nurse offered to send a student aide to the front office to pick up my schedule and tablet. She also found new white compression socks for me to change into after cleaning up my knees. I feigned clumsiness as my excuse because I’m trying to figure my way through this school, and big jocks don’t scare me.

I’ve lived through too much bullshit to be worried about them. Outside of a slap and some whispers, the day hasn’t been too bad. My measurement for both pain and assholes is absurdly skewed.

Sitting down at a picnic table, I put my backpack down within reach and open my phone to the family chat.