Pacific Prep by R.A. Smyth EPUB & PDF – eBook Details
- Author: R.A. Smyth
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available for Download
- Series: None
- Price: Free
- File Size: 1 MB
I READJUST MY DUFFEL BAG ON MY SHOULDER WHILE I TAKE IN THE TOWERING
wrought iron gates in front of me. Who knew a set of gates could hold such
significance? Most of the students here probably don’t bat an eye as they pass
through them, the cold iron representing nothing more than the start of a new
school year. To someone like me, it symbolizes so much more. The
opportunity for a private education. The chance at a new life, a future.
Taking in the crest branded on the gates, my eyes hover over the three
words the school has chosen to embody everything they stand for.
Felicitatem. Patientiam Operatur. Dignitate.
Prosperity. Perseverance. Prestige.
No, I sure as hell do not speak Latin, but I do know how to do a Google
search. Only one of those words resonates with me. Perseverance. I’ve
endured my fair share of shit so far in this reasonably short life. As for
prosperity and prestige? Well, only the wealthy can afford that shit, and I’m
sure as fuck not that.
Ignoring the judgmental eyes from the passing chauffeur-driven cars as
they make their way through the gates and up the tree-lined drive, I trail after
them, taking in the campus as I walk.
The campus is vast and fancy as hell, with its grandeur buildings,
perfectly manicured lawns, and trimmed hedges. I can just about make out a
football field and tennis courts, as well as some sort of sports center in the
I walk past a large, even more prestigious building than the others. It’s
got more steps leading up to it than any average building needs, meaning it
towers above me, with its large glass windows and dramatic floor-to-ceiling
Above the large wooden doors, a plaque reads ‘Davenport Hall’. Well,
whomever the Davenports are, they have more money than they clearly know
what to do with. What school needs a hall like that? I bet it’s only used a few
times a year. What a waste!
Strolling on, I watch as cars stop in front of another building up ahead of
me. Students climb out, most of them with their parents, looking around
warily before following their parents up the steps—freshmen kids, I bet. As
they disappear through the front entrance, uniformed men rush over to the
cars and start lifting luggage out of their trunks, placing them on carts, and,
I’m assuming, taking them off to the student’s accommodations.
Older students who have their own car—which appears to be everyone
over the age of sixteen—climb out of their vehicles in the parking lot
opposite the main building, greeting their friends, laughing and joking with
one another as they slowly make their way toward the school. They all look
perfectly poised in their school uniforms, not a crease to be seen or a hair out
of place. With their white teeth, flawless makeup, and expensive haircuts,
they look like models or celebrities, all oozing the confidence that only
comes with having money.
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