They don't play to win. They play to hurt.
Sterling Academy's irresistible reputation all came crashing down last year when a list of the 'top thirty girls too...' had been anonymously published.
Now recovering from the pits of hell the media dragge...
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"WHAT DO YOU MEAN mean you aren't coming for the rest of the week?" I look over to Sage, who's got my books in his hand as he walks to me to my English class.
I face him entirely, ignoring the obvious eyes that follow us in the hallway. Unlike me however Sage entertains them, smiles, waves, and all that kind of charitable stuff that I wouldn't be caught dead doing.
Having Nayelie over on the weekend was enough charity for me.
"My parents and I got summonded to the D'Aureville's place. So we have to go, they have a son around my age,"
"Louis, right?" I ask, unsurely even though I know I am. The D'Aureville's are one of the most prominent families in England, as Régis D'aureville is the current prime minister.
Louis D'Aureville is a year or so younger than us, but he's infamous for his runaway streak and badboy persona.
I muster up the most disappointed look I can to feign it. I'm haunted by the fact that it isn't that hard since deep down I do believe I'll miss Sage. Just a little bit, of course. I'll miss him the same way I miss my nail techs when they're on holiday. Nothing more.
"Are you sure you can't skip out on it?" I look up at him, pausing at the entrance of my English class.
Sage shakes his head, obviously not happy either. "No can do Ambs, sorry." The bashful look across his ocean-blue eyes is enough to cause me dim satisfaction.
Laurent D'Aureville, I could kiss you right now. The media, alongside everyone else is always stuck up on the eldest D'Aureville son, they somehow always forget the youngest one — Laurent.
I'd stumbled across Laurent a year ago, when Mother had dragged me along to London where she'd been invited to do a modelling gig with other 'iconic models.' Whilst in London I partied, and when partying I caught sight of Laurent D'Aureville in bed with the daughter of his father's opponent.
his of course, was great for me, but very bad for Laurent whose long-time girlfriend had no idea of his affair.
Once stumbling across the scene, I was sworn to secrecy to never mention it again. Well, unfortunate for Laurent I can be a bitch when I need something, and I need Sage Evanders out of his house.
Realistically, I could do what I wanted to do with Sage out of his house for an hour or two, but that would still run the risk of his parents being there and Sage returning when he shouldn't. I don't like risks, I like perfection. So Sage being out of the country with his parents, is a full-proof plan.
Back to the story, around a week ago when I was going through my mother's office I stumbled across an invitation, one to D'Aureville's annual ball. The ball falls next week but some of the most notable families such as the Delvaùx's and the Zhu's get invited a week or so early. My task was to have the Evanders's there as well.
