THE SCHOLARSHIP BETWEEN US

THE ASSEMBLY

The morning bell rang through the halls of Westfield College, announcing the beginning of another school day.

Students poured out of their classrooms and dormitories, moving toward the assembly hall in groups. Their voices filled the corridors as they talked about homework, upcoming tests, weekend parties, sports, and everything else that seemed important to them.

For Amara, however, everything felt different.

She walked beside Jackson, holding the straps of her worn backpack tightly against her shoulders.

Her eyes moved cautiously around the school grounds.

Westfield College was even more impressive than she had imagined when she first received the scholarship letter.

The buildings were enormous, the walkways were clean, and the gardens looked as though someone spent hours every morning making sure that every flower stood perfectly in place. Students walked around in neat school uniforms, most of them carrying expensive-looking bags and wearing polished shoes.

Amara tried not to stare.

She didn't want anyone to notice how overwhelmed she was.

She didn't want anyone to know that this was her first time in a place like this.

She didn't want anyone to know that, before today, she had never imagined herself walking through the gates of a school like Westfield College.

She especially didn't want anyone to know that her mother worked there as a janitor.

Amara glanced at Jackson.

Unlike her, Jackson seemed completely comfortable.

He walked with his hands in his pockets, looking around casually as if he had been attending Westfield for years.

Amara, on the other hand, stood out immediately. She wasn’t in a uniform like the others. She wore her normal clothes—old, worn, and frayed at the edges—clothes that, to the British students around her, looked like rags.

"You're awfully quiet," he said.

Amara looked at him.

"Am I?"

"Yes."

She smiled faintly.

"I'm just looking."

"Looking at what?"

"Everything."

Jackson laughed.

"You've been doing that since you arrived."

Amara smiled.

"Can you blame me? This place is huge."

"Wait until you see the sports complex."

"There's a sports complex?"

Jackson stopped walking and looked at her dramatically.

"Are you serious?"

Amara nodded.

"Very serious."

"Amara, this school has almost everything."

"Almost?"

"Well, I don't know if it has a private airport."

Amara laughed.

"Jackson!"

"I'm serious. Some students here probably come to school in helicopters."

Amara shook her head.

"You're exaggerating."

"I'm not."

"Okay, maybe you're exaggerating a little."

"Fine. A little."

They continued walking.

Amara felt herself relaxing.

Jackson had been kind to her since she arrived at Westfield College. He didn't ask too many questions, and he never made her feel like she didn't belong.

She had expected her first day to be lonely.

She had expected to sit alone in class, eat lunch alone, and spend the entire day trying to figure out where everything was.

But then she had met Jackson.

He had shown her around the school and explained some of the things she didn't understand.

He had even helped her find her classroom.

For the first time since she entered Westfield College, Amara felt like she wasn't completely alone.

"Are you nervous about the assembly?" Jackson asked.

Amara's smile disappeared.

"A little."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"You're going to be fine."

"How do you know?"

"Because I'm here."

Amara raised an eyebrow.

"How does you being here make me fine?"

Jackson grinned.

"Because if anyone bothers you, I'll—"

"Jackson."

"What?"

"Don't start fighting people."

"I wasn't going to say that."

"You were."

"Okay, maybe I was."

Amara laughed again.

"You're impossible."

"I prefer the word charming."

"You prefer the wrong word."

They were still laughing when they reached the entrance leading toward the assembly hall.

That was when everything changed.

Three girls were walking toward them from the opposite direction.

They were dressed in the same Westfield College uniform as everyone else, but there was something different about the way they carried themselves.

They walked like they owned the school.

The girl in the middle was Audrey.

Audrey was beautiful in a way that made people notice her immediately. She had long, neatly styled hair and carried herself with confidence. She was one of those students who always seemed to know exactly where she belonged.

On either side of her were her two closest friends, Chloe and Mirabel.

The three girls were laughing about something when Audrey suddenly noticed Jackson.

Her face immediately brightened.

"Jackson!"

Jackson looked up.

"Hey, Audrey."

Audrey smiled at him.

But then her eyes moved.

They landed on Amara.

The smile disappeared.

Audrey looked Amara up and down.

Her gaze traveled from Amara’s worn shoes to her frayed, ragged-looking clothes—her normal clothes, which stood out sharply against the polished uniforms around her.

Amara immediately became uncomfortable.

She knew she looked different.

She had tried her best.

But there was no hiding it.

Audrey tilted her head.

"Who is she?"

Amara blinked.

Jackson frowned.

"What?"

Audrey pointed slightly toward Amara.

"Her. Who is she?"

Jackson looked uncomfortable.

"She's Amara Williams."

Audrey stared at her.

"Amara Williams?"

"Yes," Jackson replied.

Audrey's eyes narrowed.

"Okay."

There was something about the way she said the word that made Amara uncomfortable.

Amara looked down.

Jackson noticed.

"Amara is new," he explained.

"New?"

"Yes."

"Here?"

Jackson frowned.

"Yes, Audrey. Here."

Audrey let out a small laugh.

"Interesting."

Amara remained silent.

Chloe looked at Amara and whispered something to Mirabel.

Mirabel giggled.

Audrey heard them.

She turned toward them.

"What?"

Mirabel shrugged.

"Nothing."

"Say it."

Mirabel looked at Amara.

"I was just wondering who she was."

Audrey crossed her arms.

"Exactly. That's what I was asking."

Jackson sighed.

"She's a student."

Audrey looked at him.

"Obviously."

"Then why are you asking?"

Audrey opened her mouth but didn't immediately answer.

Instead, she looked at Amara again.

There was something in her expression that made Amara feel as if she had done something wrong simply by standing there.

Audrey finally spoke.

"Who the hell is she, and why is she dressed like that?"

Amara's heart sank.

Jackson's expression changed.

"Audrey."

"What?"

"That's rude."

"I'm just asking."

"You're not just asking."

Audrey rolled her eyes.

"Oh, please."

Mirabel suddenly laughed.

"Maybe she's the janitor."

Chloe covered her mouth.

Audrey looked at Amara again.

"Wait."

Mirabel continued.

"Or maybe she's the janitor's daughter."

The three girls burst into laughter.

Amara froze.

The words hit her harder than she expected.

Her face became hot.

She felt as though everyone around them had suddenly stopped moving.

She knew her mother was a janitor.

She wasn't ashamed of her mother.

Not even for a second.

Her mother worked harder than anyone Amara knew.

She woke up before sunrise.

She worked long hours.

She cleaned classrooms, hallways, offices, and bathrooms.

She did whatever she could to make sure Amara had food to eat and a roof over her head.

Amara was proud of her.

But hearing those girls say it as though being a janitor was something shameful made her chest tighten.

Jackson stepped forward.

"That's enough."

Audrey looked at him.

"Why are you defending her?"

"Because you're being rude."

"You're acting like she's your girlfriend."

Amara's eyes widened.

Jackson immediately shook his head.

"What? No."

Audrey smiled.

"Then why do you care?"

"Because she's my friend."

Audrey's smile faded.

"Your friend?"

"Yes."

Mirabel looked at Chloe.

"Since when does Jackson make friends with people like—"

"Mirabel," Jackson interrupted.

The girl stopped.

"What?"

"Don't finish that sentence."

Mirabel rolled her eyes.

Audrey looked irritated.

"Whatever. We have an assembly to attend."

She turned around.

"Come on."

Chloe and Mirabel followed her.

But before leaving, Mirabel looked back at Amara.

"Try not to get lost."

Chloe laughed.

The three girls walked away.

Amara stood silently.

Jackson looked at her.

"Don't mind them."

Amara forced a smile.

"I'm fine."

"You're not."

"I said I'm fine."

"Amara."

She looked at him.

He could see the hurt in her eyes.

"You don't have to pretend with me."

For a moment, Amara didn't say anything.

Then she looked toward the assembly hall.

"Let's just go."

Jackson hesitated.

But he nodded.

"Okay."

They walked into the assembly hall.

The hall was enormous.