The Trinity.
A triad of rich boys supposedly the helm of an entire school.
Who? You might ask, or come again?
I wouldn't blame you, because the first time I heard about The Trinity was when I walking into a brand new school with thigh high socks and a skirt so short, it barely covered my modesty. What was even more weird was that they teamed the entire uniform with a navy blue blazer to be never taken off at any circumstances. Apparently they were big on covering up the upper half, but anything south of the equator was free for anyone to gawk at.
I shouldn't even be here. Forks High. Elitist High more like. I guess my mother was partly to blame, having divorced my father and remarrying a much wealthier gentleman. Philip Dwyer did nothing by halves. The moment he learned he was gaining a step-daughter, he didn't hesitate in enrolling her in the most privileged school this side of the states.
My first reaction was to say no.
My mother pleaded with me, and even offered to tour the school grounds with me in hope of changing my mind.
It didn't.
From what I could see, the school looked like it came exactly out of a brochure with students happily fitting in last minute revision on the lawns, all 33 acres by the way, and teachers beaming helpfully by the marble fountain with welcoming eyes.
I hated it on sight.
And anyone with even one inch of rebellion within them would have agreed with me.
Only rich kids came here, and that meant grades didn't matter that much because money always paved the way. Already I could picture it, lazy self-indulgent kids who've never lifted a finger in their lives bonding over how exquisitely wealthy they are and what a bore school is.
And what made my blood boil even more, was that now I was one of them.
In the end, Renne resorted to some old-fashioned guilt-tripping and blackmailing for me to even consider being fitted for a uniform. After the less-than-successful tour on what was otherwise beautiful grounds, Renne asked me for the final time what my verdict was before revealing it wasn't really a choice, but a command.
"No."
"Isabella Swan! Do you know how many people would kill to get their children into a place like this?"
"Then let them," I stated matter of factly. And then worried I was letting Renne get the wrong of the stick, I hastily added, "Get my place, not kill. Definitely not kill."
"You ungrateful little brat. Do you know how hard I worked to get us both at this point of time? This isn't something you can turn away from Isabella, and if you had any sense of self-respect, you'll accept it on the spot. Think of all the funding going to waste because of you. Because you do know what the $45,000 dollars your father paid to guarantee you a place, will go to waste, don't you?"
My mother is an evil mastermind, I give her that.
Suffice to say, the idea of letting Forks High suck up all that money without even a partial refund made me break out into cold sweat. I was not going to let this High School get the satisfaction of chasing me away, before the term even started. And so I agreed, albeit hesitantly, and prayed I could just make it through senior year without any casualties.
"Ow!"
Someone barged into me, as I made my way up the Pavillion and didn't pause to ask if I was okay, before he or she fled down the steps in a frightening manner. "Hey!" I called after him- it was quite clearly a he- "Where's the fire? You could've at least said sorry!"
My eyebrows shot into my hairline, when the flailing boy tripped on the last step and fell down in a crumple, but not before I saw his ankle giving way. Now my indignation gave way to concern, and I adjusted my shoulder bag around me before making my way slowly towards him. "Are you alright?" I called, not noticing he was crying until he gave a terrible shriek.
"NO!"
He looked up wildly, blond highlights in disarray, before he saw me advancing on him and cried even louder.
"Don't come near me!"
His face was so screwed up with fear and sobs, I couldn't tell how well he could see me to know that I was not the enemy. What had happened to him? Who was he running away from? He was clearly a student at Forks High, because he was wearing the exact same blazer as me and gray pants instead of a skirt, but what did that have to do with him being this way? I felt there was a correlation I was missing.
People were starting to gather. I hadn't noticed there were other students milling around until I realised they were crowded around the injured boy and talking in low voices. They were starting to gather round me too, and were watching with accusatory eyes as I started jogging towards him.
"Don't help him!" came a faceless shout.
"He's been marked!" came another.
"You'll be marked too!"
"GET HIM!"
The battle cry was unanimous but was strangely muted, like it was coming from further away. I turned just in time to see a group of blue blazered students sprinting around a corner, weilding hockey sticks like they were meat cleavers and wearing murderous expressions. They reminded me of a well organized pack on the scent of a wounded animal.
Everyone was facing the pack, some even cheering them on whilst others watched passively, and allowed me the time to ponder who they were possibly chasing. It couldn't be the injured boy...could it? My suspicions were confirmed when I glanced over my shoulder, and realised Injured Boy had taken advantage of the distraction and was now half-limping, half-running towards the school gates.
He was getting away.
He was getting away!
And somehow, I knew he wasn't coming back.
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"Okay, so maybe that was a drama piece or something," I muttered, as the crowd and me, as one, watched the group of boys chase the lone boy out through the school gates. I noticed they weren't letting up, and were still carrying school equipment out of site, as they disappeared into the distance. Feeling there was a certain joke involved, I looked around at my peers beseechingly so they'll explain it to me.
One girl caught my eye, and nervously shifted them away again when I smiled.
Whispers were breaking out.
"Did you hear? The Trinity-"
"Let it be a warning-"
"He shouldn't have pissed The Trinity-"
"They rule-"
"Excuse me," I said loudly to everybody and nobody at once. "But what is The Trinity?"
At first I thought it was my imagination, but there was a definite hush after I asked my question. A girl cleared her throat, and my eyes fell on her, as she shook back her voluptuous auburn hair and looked down her equine nose at me. "You're clearly new," she disdainfully stated, "Or else you wouldn't be asking such a stupid question."
I bristled.
"My name is Jessica, and these are my friends Lauren and Angela," she gestured at two gormless looking sidekicks behind her. One was blonde and the other a pretty brunette, but one thing clearly shone through on all of them...they were creatures of greed. Each of the three friends had gray skirts shorter than mine and designer bags tucked under their arms. Jessica had pink D&G sunglasses on her head, Lauren had red and Angela, orange.
They were matching clones of each other.
But Jessica was clearly the leader.
"And you are...?"
"Isabella," I forced out. "Isabella Swan."
"Izzy. How cute. Anyway The Trinity are the three most hottest, richest and smartest boys to ever step foot in this school."
"Yeah, they own this place!" Lauren shook her head.
"Lauren, I'm talking! Anyway, the leader, that's Edward Cullen, his parent's organization, Cullen Enterprises actually own this school so they have a say in who enters it and who leaves it. But Jasper Whitlock and Emmett McCarthy are not far behind."
"Jasper's parents own a massive nuclear plant in Russia, so literally he could start a World War if he wanted and Emmett comes from a long line of chip makers. McCarthy Chips, surely you've heard of it?"
The trouble was, I have heard of McCarthy Chips. I may even have been guilty of buying a packet or two in Phoenix, whenever my favorite brand, Pringles ran out. Suddenly a sinking feeling drained my stomach of bile and forced it up, as I released with what political heavyweights I was dealing with here. McCarthy Chips, as far as I was aware, is a billion dollar industry and if he was that rich, how wealthy were the other two?
I shuddered to think about it.
"But you better not make a move on any of them, bitch," Jessica suddenly threatened, "Or we'll personally hunt you down and make what happened to that guy seem like breakfast."
They were refering to Injured Boy.
Oh God, what had happened earlier was no drama piece- it had been deadly real and all these guys knew it. And apparently it was all down to the The Trinity, although I couldn't fathom how they were involved or what Injured Boy could possibly have done to them to anatognize them so much.
Suddenly the school sucking up $45,000 didn't seem so bad. Not if I left with my life!
The school bell rang dispelling the tension and students, as they started breaking off into pairs or threes and walking to class. Soon I was left standing on the steps all by myself, certain that any chances of forging new relationships were crippled the moment Jessica declared me a bitch and declared me as a potential competitor for The Trinity's affections.
Me?
Seriously?
Did I look like the type of girl rich guys went for?
Potentially rich mean guys?
The uniform did a wonderful job of disguising our incomes, but just one glance at my accessories or lack there-off, and they would see I'm not potential girlfriend material. I'm not sure I would want to be one of their girlfriends, if breaking up with them meant being chased out of Forks High by hockey sticks.
What kind of school is this?
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