Burvington Preparatory Academy of Excellence.
Home of the "Burlie" Boys.
The richest , said to be strongest and some of the most genius minds in all of Great Britain. Home to the 4 most powerful boys (and then some) . They do, say and be who the...
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September 13th
MR AULEY CLARK'S WHISTLE BLEW INTO THE MORNING AIR. THE HIGH PITCHED SHRILL OF THE WHISTLES REEF SENT SHOCK WAVES TO THE PLAYERS AS THEIR FEET THUNDERED ON THE FIELD.
"Hurry up ye lazy luggers or else it wull be 30 sprints afore nine am!" Coach Clark yelled, tapping the passing by students on the shoulder. His sport swatch showcasing a painful 6:20 O'clock in the morn.
His dark blonde hair grew slightly wet due to the mornings rain, yet he stood underneath the shade of the building. He didn't bother thinking of how more wet and irritated the athletes must be.
His eyes were solely on his players, counting each of their personal bests and worst on his score clipboard, the schools "B" crest golden and gleaming. Coach Clark was too much in his flow zone.
Too much to notice anything,
or,
anyone.
Not one of his morning football players.
Someone else entirely.
Widened worried eyes darted back and forth from coach Clark's back and the entrance to the gym locker room.
His breaths were slow and each tip- toeing step calculated for the least amount of pressure. In his mind, if even one of his toes step foot on the grass, Mr. Clark would turn around in a second and know.
That field was like his child.
Still, little thanks for up above left his slightly chapped lips as his hand held to the gym door handle.
"Aye, Yaar. This isn't Mission Impossible, would you get in already?!" She yelled into his ear.
Mingus pushed his phone away just in time for the deafening decibels of Nikita's voice to approach his ear.
Nikita Acharya stood on the theatre stage. The great auditorium was completely empty with vast rows of darkened red seats uninhabited. Nobody, not even Ms. Love would be here this early. You'd have to really be in love with theatre to come way before class were to start.
But here she was, walking back and forth on the stage, her phone on speaker mode, listening to her "comrades" telling. She made sure to check her surroundings every now and then, just in case the victim laid hiding within the dark shadows of the corridor.
