THE FIRST BREAK IN ROUTINE
1236 Words
CECELIA’S POV
It was officially my first day as a student of Everfield Academy.
Electric butterflies swarmed my gut, battering against a heart that refused to settle.
I genuinely didn’t know what to expect.
Everfield Academy was the “it” school.
If you attended Everfield, people automatically assumed your life was perfect.
I quickly freshened up, and somewhere between brushing my teeth and fixing my hair, I realized I had been singing the entire time.
I smiled at myself in the mirror.
Maybe this year would actually be good.
After dressing up, I took a few pictures in my uniform because there was no way I was letting my first day go undocumented.
Once I was done, I headed toward Shaniel’s room and knocked lightly.
“Come in. The door’s not locked,” she responded.
I pushed the door open.
Shaniel sat on her bed fully dressed, typing seriously on her laptop.
When she noticed me, she barely looked up before returning her attention to the screen.
The atmosphere immediately felt awkward.
I thought we were cool after yesterday.
So why was she acting distant now?
“There’s breakfast downstairs,” she said suddenly, cutting through my thoughts.
“My mom will be taking us to school in about twenty minutes.”
“Oh… okay.”
I closed the door quietly behind me.
Breakfast felt strangely quiet.
Back home, meals were always a family thing.
My mom and I ate together almost every time unless one of us was busy.
But here?
Everybody seemed to exist separately in the same house.
I ate quietly while imagining how my first day would go.
Would people like me?
Would I fit in?
Would Everfield actually live up to the hype?
“Hey, Cecelia.”
I looked up immediately.
Aunt Mirabel stood near the dining area, already dressed for work.
“Good morning,”
I greeted politely.
“Morning, dear. Done eating?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Then her attention shifted instantly.
“Shaniel!” she called out before heading toward the front door.
A few moments later, Shaniel finally came downstairs with her bag hanging loosely over her shoulder.
“Let’s go before we get stuck in traffic,” Aunt Mirabel said.
The drive to school was mostly quiet.
Shaniel sat beside me in the backseat scrolling through her phone while I stared outside the window like an excited child.
The closer we got, the more students I started spotting.
Different luxury cars.
Uniforms.
Groups of students laughing loudly.
A knot cinched tight in my gut.
Then finally—
I saw it.
Everfield Academy.
The school stood tall behind massive black gates, looking more like a university than an actual high school.
Students filled almost every corner of the compound.
Some were hugging dramatically like they hadn’t seen each other in years.
Others already looked deep into gossip.
The entire atmosphere felt alive.
Aunt Mirabel pulled over near the entrance.
“Have a good day,” she said.
“Thank you,” I replied quickly.
Shaniel opened the door first.
The moment she stepped out, a few students immediately called her name.
And somehow…
the atmosphere around her changed completely.
JEDIDIAH’S POV
The rhythmic chime of silver on porcelain pulled me from sleep.
Footsteps moved quickly through the hallways while staff carried out their duties with trained precision.
Somewhere downstairs, I could hear instructions being given, cutlery clinking lightly against plates, and the distant sound of a vacuum cleaner.
Same mansion.
Same routine.
Nothing ever truly slowed down here.
I rubbed my eyes briefly before getting out of bed and heading toward the bathroom.
About forty minutes later, I was dressed and heading downstairs.
The dining area already smelled like coffee and expensive breakfast meals I barely cared for.
My father was seated at the table reading something on his tablet while my mother sat across from him.
Static hummed between them, thick enough to taste.
Interesting.
“Morning,” I said calmly.
The hard lines around her mouth dissolved into a weary smile.
“Good morning,” she replied warmly as I leaned down to kiss her lightly on the cheek before taking my seat.
My father barely looked up.
“You should eat quickly,” he said. “We’ll be leaving for the office soon.”
And there it was again.
Work.
Always work.
Before I could even respond, my mother suddenly dropped her cutlery onto the table.
The sharp sound immediately cut through the room.
“I’ve had enough.”
Both my father and I looked at her.
Her expression was unusually firm.
“No,” she continued, looking directly at my father this time. “I’m serious this time, Theodore. I have had enough.”
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
“You are not taking him to the office,” she said coldly. “Not today.”
My father finally looked up properly.
“And why exactly not?”
“Because for once,” my mother snapped, “I would like my son to live like an actual teenager instead of a business investment.”
Silence.
Even the staff nearby suddenly looked terrified to breathe too loudly.
“I already paid his fees,” she continued firmly. “He has been admitted into Riverton Academy. His uniforms are ready, and he’ll be resuming immediately.”
I blinked once.
What?
“You did what?” my father asked slowly.
“For once in his life, allow me make decisions concerning my own son,” my mother said.
“You’ve spent his entire childhood preparing him to inherit companies he never even asked for.”
“Vivian—”
“No.”
She raised her hand sharply.
“He has spent his entire life being homeschooled, learning languages, attending business meetings, taking etiquette lessons, finance classes, negotiation training, martial arts, piano lessons—”
“I was preparing him.”
“You were controlling him.”
The room went vacuum-still, a storm held in a bottle.
I sat there quietly, genuinely unsure if I was still half asleep.
Riverton Academy?
School?
Actual school?
For a second, I honestly didn’t know how to react.
Because this had never been my life.
My childhood had been tutors. Schedules. Meetings. Training.
Not classrooms.
Not hallways.
Not normality.
Was this the beginning of some kind of revolution?
Because judging from the look on my father’s face…
this conversation was far from over.
I stood up quietly.
“I’ll get ready,” I said.
No one replied.
In my room, everything was already prepared.
A neatly arranged uniform lay on the bed.
Next to it, a bag filled with books, stationery, and files I didn’t bother selecting myself.
I stared at it for a moment.
It felt… childish.
Like something meant for someone still being shaped, not someone expected to take over anything.
I changed into the uniform.
It fit perfectly, of course.
Everything in my life always did.
But looking at the mirror, I felt slightly out of place.
Not because of how I looked.
Because of what I was about to do.
School.
Real school.
For the first time.
I had never had friends my age.
Never learned how to just… exist with people.
Only structure.
Only work.
Only expectations.
What have I been doing for nineteen years?
The thought stayed with me as I picked up the bag.
And for once, I didn’t have an answer.
- Writer
