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The Westchester Conservatory for Higher Learning (WCHL)

7:40 AM

20 August 2014

Freshman Year

"Kuh-laire. Step to it." Massie Block snapped, one hand on hip as she glared at the petite blonde, who was lagging fifteen feet behind the group. "Those boots, sandals rather, were made for walking." The brunette lost her grim look in favor of a wide smile.

"Yeah, don't be glum Claire! We're out of the shithole that calls itself OCD and on to bigger and better things!" Alicia Rivera chirped, throwing her tanned hands into the air joyfully as they walked up the back steps of The Westchester Conservatory for Higher Learning. The all-new school appeared to be primarily shiny metal and dark wood, with merely one or two stories.

"We're already late," Claire grumbled, continuing to drag her pale orange Stuart Weitzman sandals on the concrete. "Besides, I'm not so sure this late entrance thing should be carried into High School. Cam'll be in there."

"Motherfucking Cam, that's all you talk about," Dylan crowed, eying Claire. "Live a little. It's not just OCD and Briarwood feeding into this school now, it's Hotchkiss and Redmonton and like a thousand others. They'll be someone just as cute as Cam, if not cuter."

"Dyl's right," Kristen said. She had lost her bouncing walk, instead favoring a smooth stroll. In her opinion, it made her legs look longer. Kristen's greatest insecurity was her height of 5' 3", one inch shorter than Claire and five inches shorter than Alicia. Dylan was already 5'10", the tallest in the group, while Massie split them all evenly at a height of 5'6".

Claire sullenly ignored the remark, instead choosing to straighten her asymmetrical dark gray silk sundress. The woven leather belt pinched her sides, but Massie had insisted upon her wearing it. It completed the outfit, according to the amber-eyed brunette

The girls walked in silence until they reached the back door of the cafeteria, or 'The Eatery' in WCHL lingo.

"'Kay, ladies! Are we ready?" Massie sing-songed as she placed a hand on her purple Agnés B sequined t-shirt dress. The black-jersey backed tunic was slightly sheer and clung to her underwear in a way that Claire found unattractive, but she didn't dare tell the brunette that. Also, in Claire's opinion, the knee-high tied black gladiator heeled sandals were way too much for a first-day-back outfit. But it was not Claire's problem, and for that she was grateful.

"Rates?" Alicia prepositioned.

"Nah, I'm confident in us!" Massie sang joyously. Massie was in the best mood Claire had ever seen her in. When had the brunette ever been this sanguine?

Every single member of the Pretty Committee, sans Claire, believed in their collective ruling ability. No matter that The Westchester Conservatory for Higher Learning was a brand new school, with brand new faces. Thirty-four girls from OCD had made the cut for WCHL's inaugural freshman class, and twenty-five boys from Briarwood along with them. To the Pretty Committee, there were enough familiar faces to maintain their hold on the school. No one new would be able to usurp them.

"Let's gooooo!" Dylan said in a deep voice, wiggling her short-coated rear. In Claire's modest opinion, the light pink leather shorts were way, way, way too short. But that was just from her point of view.

Massie let out a giggle, and turned towards the metal door again. She held up a palm, and counted down on her fingers.

When Massie's pinky finger lowered, the Alpha busted through the wood doors. Alicia was a half step behind her, Dylan after the Spanish beauty and Kristen at Dylan's heels. Claire walked through the door five seconds later, on the wrong foot.

Immediately, she knew something was very, very wrong.

Six hundred and fifty eyes were staring directly at the Pretty Committee. The eyes were not hospitable, nor were they appreciative. They were just…there. Watching. Judging.

And definitely not welcoming the Pretty Committee.

Claire followed her friends to a table at the edge of the room. She pretended not to notice when someone stuck out a foot to trip her (she saw the floppy blonde hair, but ignored Derrick). What an ass.

Finally, she made it to the table twenty seconds after her friends did. Immediately, the woman standing at the front of the room began to speak again. Claire's cheeks reddened. They had interrupted some sort of first day talk. What a way to start the year. Everyone probably thought they were self-absorbed bitches now, if they hadn't already held that viewpoint.

Massie was holding a furious whispered discussion, but Claire chose to sit back and ignore the four other girls.

As Claire ruminated over the embarrassment, she failed to notice someone stepping up to the chosen table table. Once she felt a breath on her shoulder, she craned her neck to look straight into electric blue eyes, set in a tanned face.

"Miss Block, Rivera, Marvil, Gregory and Lyons? I am Heidi Parker, co-leader of WCHL. Please note that tardiness is not accepted in this establishment, and you will be expected to report to your respective counselors at the termination of the week to complete a reflection on your fault. I would recommend not being late." The mid-20s blonde woman set five black slips of paper down on the metal table top, fanning them out. With that, she stepped away as quickly as she came.

"What the hell is a co-leader?" Alicia spat, glaring at the woman's back.

"New-age strategy term for principal," Kristen said as she leaned forward to snatch a black slip. "Is this a mark? Fuck."

"Kristen? English?" Massie said tiredly.

"New-age strategy is what this school is built on," Kristen sighed. Normally she would make a smart-ass remark about all the answers being available in the School Handbook, but she knew it was no use. These girls would never read such a thing even if their life depended on it. "A mark is like a detention. You can only get so many in a semester if you want to stay in the school. And we've already got one on our record."

"How many do you get?" Claire spoke up, eyebrow cocked. She was not interested in getting thrown out of this place, no matter how strict or new age or whatever it was.

"You guys get fifty per semester," Kristen bit out, frowning as the severity of the situation hit her.

"And you don't?" Dylan asked.

"I only get forty." Kristen stressed the number; panic beginning to show in her eyes. "Because of my scholarship."

"Kris, relax-" Massie started, but Claire stopped paying attention right in the middle of her Alpha's sentence.

A certain pair of green and blue eyes was connected to hers from across the Eatery. Claire parried the look with curiosity. Immediately, Cam's lip curled in disgust and his look turned into a glare. Claire, feeling like a deer in the headlights, found herself unable to look away.

It was Cam that finally broke the connection, shaking his head. Shaking his head in disgust. In contempt.

In revulsion.