Chapter 3
1500 Words
Chapter 3“I DON'T BELIEVE THIS!”
Skyler O'Hara was livid. Three of her text messages and two of her phone calls were ignored.
She was on a mission to take a selfie. Her twelve million followers on i********: needed to see her perfectly contoured face, and her toned, sun-kissed body swathed in a mesh panel dress and her boyfriend's bee-stung lips pressed gently to her cheek.
Skyler was a fashion blogger, and with the help of her family's vast connections and infinite wealth, became the world's leading influencer.
She received endless invitations to runway shows, glamorous after-parties, commercials that advertised high-end beauty products and even offers for leading roles in movies. And even though she was only fourteen years old, she had her own team of stylists, assistants, market analysts, lawyers, and social media managers.
She stood on the balcony, gripped the decorative iron banister and searched through the sea of faceless strangers below. Her father's multi-million dollar mansion was invaded by a horde of Hollywood celebrities, runway models, fashion designers, and socialites.
The men wore Italian suits and the women squeezed their Pilate-obsessed, bronze bodies into skintight dresses to celebrate her stepmother's twenty-third birthday.
Kaleigh was a swimsuit model. Skyler's father met her at the Monaco Grand Prix party a year ago and a week later, he put a 16-Carat diamond ring on her finger.
He didn't care that his new wife was thirty years his junior. In fact, their gigantic age difference motivated him to get a pre-wedding facelift and switch over to a gluten-free, non-GMO, vegan diet.
Skyler's parents divorced three years ago due to irreconcilable differences, so she had to divide her time between California and New York.
Her mother was engrossed in art – even though she never touched a paintbrush in her life – and preferred to mingle with Picasso wannabes on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Her father, on the other hand, enjoyed golf, surfing and the California sun.
Skyler climbed down the sweeping staircase. Her strappy, white heels click-clacked against the polished marble floor as she crossed the foyer and stepped inside the elegant dining room.
Crystal chandeliers sparkled and cascaded down from the tall ceiling. Intricate floral bouquets, decorative candles and platinum, mosaic dinnerware topped the infinitely long table.
The room was buzzing with orchestral music, drunken laughter and endless chattering.
Waiters ran around with trays laden with sizzling delicacies and fiery drinks, and carefully maneuvered around the champagne pyramids and gigantic ice sculptures.
Skyler glimpsed her father in the crowd, his arm was wrapped around a raven-haired bombshell. Kaleigh, on the other hand, was shamelessly flirting with one of Hollywood's leading men.
Skyler gave their marriage three months; she knew her father too well.
She swept a cursory glance over the guests. Her boyfriend of two days was missing, and the thought of him flirting with another girl at her stepmother's party was making her incredibly annoyed.
She met him forty-eight hours ago at a yacht party in Ibiza. Just like Skyler, he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but his father came from old money and hers rose from rags to riches.
Skyler grabbed a shot of Jägermeister from the bar, and even though she was underage, chugged it down in one gulp.
It set off fireworks in her brain and lit her skin on fire.
Her father didn't care if she got drunk at home, so she braved another shot and walked outside.
The warm, balmy air-kissed her bare skin and sent a shiver down her spine. She raked her stiletto nails through her silky, turquoise bob and staggered to the pool with a cascading waterfall.
Skyler found her boyfriend kissing a peroxide blonde in a raised Jacuzzi.
“What the hell—” She forgot his name.
“It's not what it looks like!” Her so-called boyfriend quickly pushed the girl away to prove his point.
“Don't lie to me—whatever your name is!” Skyler barked angrily and teetered on her heels. “I've been looking all over for you! I can't believe I caught you making out with some w*********h in my Jacuzzi! Well, guess what? I don't need you for my selfie 'cause you don't even come out right. And, we're through!”
He pulled himself out of the bubbling Jacuzzi and let the water snake down his washboard abs. The sight of his tall, athletic body made her weak in the knees. He looked as though he walked out of the Abercrombie & Fitch catalog.
She suddenly regretted her decision to dump him.
He wrapped his muscular arms around her slender waist as the peroxide blonde scampered nervously back inside the house.
“Come on, baby. Let's just forget about this. She's just trash. Come on, you know it's nothing serious with that kind of a girl.” His deep, husky whisper tickled the tip of her nose and it was hard for Skyler to focus on anything but his lips.
“You said the same thing the first night you asked me out, when I caught you groping one of the dancers on the yacht.”
He gently brushed his lips against hers. “Come on, baby. That was different.”
She pushed him off. “I said we're done.”
“Come on, baby. We're perfect for each other.”
He grabbed her wrist, and when she tried to turn away, he whirled her back around. His eyes were glazed over and Skyler realized that he was drunk. She was used to seeing drunk or drugged-out people — that was the ugly side of fame and fortune.
She tried to shake off his firm grip, but he held on tight.
“Take your hand off me. Now!”
He didn't. Instead he pulled her body into an awkward hug. “Come 'ere. Give me a kiss.”
His breath reeked of alcohol and cigarettes. Skyler grimaced in disgust when he left a trail of sloppy, wet kisses on her face.
“GET OFF ME!” She rammed the heel of her hand into his forehead and shoved him back.
He staggered on his feet and gave a short, mirthless chuckle. “Come on. Don't act like a nun! I heard rumors about you. You're not a sweet, innocent princess.”
“Shut up!” She slapped him across the face.
In return, he backhanded her across the jaw. Skyler was stunned. Nobody had ever dared to hit her back.
Tears sprung up from her cornflower-blue eyes. She teetered on her five-inch heels and fell on the ground. It was a miracle that she didn't break her ankle in the process.
Her now ex-boyfriend howled with laughter. “Sometimes you need to learn the hard way, babe.”
His words cut through her like a knife.
She clenched her jaw and balled-up her fists. Her body ached with raw hatred, and it sent a numbing sensation down her spine.
The water in the pool began to simmer. Within seconds, a powerful wave crashed into her ex-boyfriend's body and slammed him into the ground.
He lay unconscious.
She staggered to her feet and limped towards a lounge chaise. Her designer dress was drenched in sweat, and she trembled like a leaf. She breathed deeply, trying to calm the psychotic beating of her heart.
Last time her mysterious power reared its ugly head, she almost killed a little boy.
When she turned three, her parents threw a lavish pool party to celebrate her birthday. One of the guests, a six-year-old boy by the name of Elliot, wouldn't let her climb atop of the inflatable unicorn pool float. He kept pushing her off and claiming it as his own.
Finally, he kicked her so hard in the head that she began to cry. Along with her tears came a gigantic wave. It rose from the pool, like a snake, and tossed the little boy to the other side of the yard.
He lived, but the incident traumatized Skyler.
She was afraid that her secret would be discovered. She didn't want to be branded a freak or worse, lose her fame and fortune because of it. No one — not even her parents — knew about this power.
“Miss O'Hara?”
Skyler jolted upright. “What?” She said tersely when she realized that it was just a maid.
“There's a letter for you.” The maid lowered down the silver tray.
Skyler tore open the snow-white envelope without glancing at the golden shield on the front, and ruthlessly yanked out a letter.
“Bring me a glass of water and—” she paused when her ex-boyfriend gave out a muffled groan, “—remove that from my property.”
While the maid quickly rushed over to her ex-boyfriend, Skyler unfolded the letter.
It read:
Aditus High School
…built on a vast pool of knowledge and bravery.
Dear Miss Skyler O'Hara,
We are pleased to inform you that based on your successful social media campaigns, exceptional entrepreneurial skills and fashion trend forecasting, you have been selected to attend Aditus High School.
Unfortunately, and I deeply regret to inform you, this year the school cannot provide you with housing. However, you have been given placement at the residence of one of our esteemed members of the Youth and Progress Committee (YPC), Miss Natalie Sharp. She is eager to welcome you to San Francisco and house you for the full school term.
Enclosed is a first-class ticket to San Francisco and a student Visa.
Term begins on September 1st. The students and professors at Aditus High School are excited to meet you.
Sincerely,
Adlai Mendela
Headmistress
- Writer
