Chapter 1 chapter one

High School Hierarchy ft The Lion King Iris Holmes was sitting in homeroom casting an incredulous gaze as she took in her surroundings. She was in the centre of the classroom and could see small groups talking, giggling and showing off about what they did this past weekend. She caught some phrases of what they were saying. Her jaw dropped when those words met her ears. Is that the new Harry Winston necklace? Oh my soul, how did you get the Graff Diamonds Hallucination? I didn’t even know they were on sale yet! I heard you got the Wizard of OZ ruby slipper? I heard that it was on sale for only $612,000! I had so much fun with you this weekend! We should totally visit Musha Cay again. I’ll fly us this time! Iris Holmes was surrounded by rich kids. Her eyes grew wide and she gasped in awe at the names of brands they were just throwing around. As if these products didn’t cost more than what her mother made in a year. That realisation caused her body to slump forward and bang her head against her desk. It was only Monday and the week already felt as if it went on too long. Iris felt suffocated. The odour of wealth these people emit choked her and stomped all over her self-esteem. Their intricate hairstyles and finely pressed school uniforms -a white-collar button-up shirt tucked into a red patterned skirt or grey ankle-length pants, red blazer and tie with the school emblem on, the girls had to wear white knee socks and everyone could wear whatever shoes they wanted- and their diamond accessories made her feel like an outsider. And oh! how much they loved making her feel inferior. While her classmates didn’t physically harm her, they believed that her money status was contagious and if they touched her they would be dirty. They enjoyed spitting words like commoner! and beggar! and some even went out of their way to insult her. She would’ve felt special about the attention they give her if it didn’t hurt. Her classmates made sure to speak extra loud to ensure she heard all about their fancy vacations and how they got a new limo and a chauffeur for Christmas. They just loved to send her smug but pitying looks when she had to tell the professor that No, sorry sir, madam, I won’t be able to go on this field trip. My family can’t afford it. Iris wished she could call them all a bunch of rich, airheaded babies, but the truth of the matter was that her schoolmates weren’t stupid at all. They’ve been taught to be the very best at everything. Iris has seen some of them actually speaking up to eight different languages in one conversation, solve math problems faster than a calculator could, name historic artifacts and how much it was worth by simply smelling it. Hell, even their sniffing sounds smart. They didn’t slouch, they walked with perfect posture when strutting down the halls, didn’t mess on themselves when they were eating -then again, she never saw them eating anything that didn’t require a full cutlery set- never saw them sitting on their backs as they tried to stay awake for class. Iris was convinced that they didn’t drool in their sleep and that their shit smelled like roses. You never know with these people. The Red Notice! Tom Radcliffe from 2A got the Red Notice! A boy’s shout penetrated the air, silencing the classroom. The voice sounded slightly out of breath, loud and slightly anxious as if afraid, yet excited about what’s to come. Iris jerked upright and turned towards the door, in perfect sync with the rest of the class. The stillness was deafening as they sat stiffly in their seats; some had pity in their eyes, some had vicious excitement and some’s eyebrows were furrowed in understanding. Iris’s stomach turned, her veins boiled with anger as she glared at the door with disgust. But no one moved. No one dared to. The air thickened as the eery silence continued. Even the teacher was stiff in his seat, his arm still in the air with a pen in his frozen hand. Everyone was waiting, listening like dogs, ears twitching towards the sound. The image of these pretty people with long droopy ears on the top of their head popped into Iris’s head and made her internally snort. They would probably decorate the ears in diamond bows. The Red Notice! Tom Radcliffe from 2A got the Red Notice! It was as if a bomb just went off. The teenagers exploded awake, grabbing their things and already opening the camera apps on their phones. In perfect synchronisation, they scrambled towards the door, similar to a herd of buffalo running from a predator. In this case, they were running with their eyes wide open towards the danger. Iris sat still. Her angry gaze disappeared and was replaced by disgusted fascination. It was somewhat nauseating to see how these bragging and poise young ′adults’ turn into sniveling children vying for attention from an absent parent. The girls were squealing and jumping up and down, bouncing their way out of the classroom. The guys were fixing their hair and straightening their clothes as they puffed out their chest. Really, just like children crying for praise from their mother. Then it was quiet once again. It was a different kind of silence, the peaceful kind you get when you’re alone. Iris turned towards her desk and laid down, her forehead resting against her forearms. Her fiery red and curly ponytail flopped forward, covering her face entirely. She was already exhausted with her classmates’ actions and the day has just started. Iris? A soft and unsure voice spoke. Feminine, judging by the high octave it was speaking in. Iris? Shouldn’t we join them? Iris rolled backward and leaned on the backrest of the chair, looked up and was unsurprised to see who was in front of her. Standing there in a nearly identical uniform as Iris was Victoria McCormick. She was the only somewhat friend Iris really talked to. Quiet and shy, not many people really took notice of her. She, like Iris, preferred to stay in the background and try to be invisible. It was a difficult task when one of them was absolutely gorgeous and the other had hair so red and curly that it looks like she had fire on her head. And Victoria was beautiful. She had thick chestnut hair that fell perfectly straight to her shoulder blades and framed her face, drawing attention to her defined jawline and high cheekbones. Her dark eyebrows were plucked, forming an arch over her sea-blue eyes and making her look as if she was politely interested in her surroundings. She had a small straight nose and cupid-bow pink lips. Her eyes appeared brighter due to her golden sun-kissed skin. Victoria was of average height and had a lithe body with willowy curves and long legs that never seemed to end. Unlike the rest of the students, Victoria always seemed to float when she was walking down the halls. Her uniform was beautiful as well. Even though Victoria and Iris wore the exact same outfit, Victoria pulled it off much better. The uniform fit her like a glove, accentuating her hips and waist, giving the uniform a feminine touch. Her skirt was shorter than what was actually allowed -four fingers above the knee- but she had shapely legs that made it seem as if it was just the right length. She wore classy black stilettos that looked surprisingly good with the white knee-high socks. Her earlobes were decorated with small silver diamond hoops that matched with her simple bracelet and the many rings she adorned on her long fingers. Her nails were neatly manicured and varnished with black and silver patterns. All in all, Victoria looks like the type of girl you would see on the red carpet or on the cover of a Vogue magazine. Iris was woken from her observation when she looked above Victoria’s head and saw the clock hanging on the wall. She saw the time just as Victoria’s question registered. Well, Iris responded. The first period is about to start and we have to walk past the commotion to get there. We might as well go now. Iris stood up from her seat and picked up her school bag. Just as both girls exited the classroom, Victoria spoke. Why do they act like that? she asked softly. Her voice still echoed through the abandoned hallway. The only other sound was the noise their footsteps made. Many reasons, Iris said lightly. They can’t think for themselves and need someone to lead them. They let their hormones lead. They crave attention. They’re prey that keeps trotting after the predator. Honestly, it’s like watching- The Lion King, Victoria and Iris finished together. Victoria was smiling as if she knew what Iris was going to say. She gave the same answers every time Victoria asked. The sound of shouting and cheers broke their moment. The girls shared an uneasy glance before rushing towards the commotion. The hubbub got louder as they got closer. It came from the fancier-then-it-needed-to-be cafeteria this school had. It honestly looked like a five-star restaurant. The cafeteria was huge with round tables placed artfully around. The partition of the room was mostly floor to ceiling windows letting a lot of natural sunlight in and made the chandelier sparkle when the sun rays hit them. The small number of walls that actually existed were painted rose gold and seemed to shimmer. The tables were decorated with a silver overthrow with black mesh covering it. A full silver and black cutlery set were placed upon the tables along with rose gold serviette rings with white serviettes. The cafeteria had different bars and a buffet filled with food from all over the world: roast beef and Yorkshire pudding for the English, haggis for the Scottish, biltong snacks for those from South Africa, halal for the Islamic students and many different types of foods that Alice couldn’t even pronounce. The chefs made dishes for all the different cultures and religions that attended Crawford. Iris will admit that she likes that Crawford accepted different people. (Along as you’re rich.) It was always fascinating to see different people interact. Iris and Victoria stood at the top of the grand staircase that led to the cafeteria. This height gave her the advantage to see the entire restaurant, but the crowd of teenagers stole their attention. They stood in a half-circle formation, pushing a boy around, violently. He was already bleeding from his nose and was stumbling around barefoot. With a quick glance, Iris saw that his -probably expensive- shoes were in the hands of Iris’s main tormenter, Stephanie Nicholson. Iris’s eyes widened in realisation: the teenagers were facing them and they were standing at the top of the grand staircase. With a quick Come on! Iris grabbed Victoria’s wrist and together they jogged down the stairs. It was the correct call, seeing that the moment they joined the back of the crowd, everyone got silent. Please have mercy on the poor soul in the middle. Slowly, Iris’s eyes gazed upwards. Her heart raced in her chest and her stomach rolled with revulsion as she finally saw the reason for all this trouble. At the top of the staircase, on the exact spot she stood just a few moments ago, stood five upperclassmen looking like they just came back from a quick magazine photoshoot. They weren’t wearing the school uniform, but rather stylish outfits that accentuated their figures and highlighted their best features. Italian shoes hugged their feet as they stood there watching the crowd with distaste and vitriolic intent. Then suddenly, they descended. The one in the middle walked first before the other four followed forming an upside-down V formation. The cafeteria was silent except for Tom Radcliff’s harsh panting and the doof! doof! sounds of their steps. Finally, they reached the rest of their classmates and the leader of their group stood in front of Tom, his eyes cold and calculating as he took in Tom’s slouching posture, shivering shoulders, and quivering lips. Iris was thankful that Tom’s head was bent, knowing that if he saw Tom’s watering eyes, he would make it much worse. Well, well, he said softly, his voice cold and deep as it echoed throughout the room. It was enough to send chills down one’s spine. Iris shivered in disgust as the majority of girls and boys did the same in attraction and fear. When I heard about you, he continued, his eyes briefly connecting with Stephanie’s, enlightening Iriswhom he heard it from. I expected better, especially when I heard what you’ve been saying. He let the sentence hang in the air. Out of the corner of her eye, Iris saw one of Stephanie’s minions strut towards her with a steaming cup, before handing it over. Her attention was diverted when he began to talk. I came here, expecting a worthy and equal opponent, someone who is better than me, richer, smarter and, let’s not forget, much more handsome, he scoffed, his tone mocking. He chuckled - a husky sound - and said, But my favourite comment has got to be the one where you said that you could overthrow me and rule this school better than we ever could. Now, that’s funny! The rest of the school giggled before silencing down. I’ll put this in simple terms. I’m the king, he ridiculed, pointing to himself before pointing to Tom, and you’re the peasant. He circled Tom, reminding Iris of the way Scar used to slink around Simba. He stopped in front of Tom and gestured towards Stephanie who handed the steaming cup to him. It was considered treason to even talk about defying the king. I’m sure you know what happens when such duplicity occurs, don’t you? It was a rhetorical question, one that intensified the quivering of Tom’s frame. He leaned towards Tom, towering over him before he whispered sinisterly, Justice gets served. He dumped the scalding hot water over Tom’s head. Iris flinched as the students laughed, Tom’s skin burning red and steaming. Tom stood there, hot water dripping down his face, covering his tears as he turned on his heel and left, not even sparing a glance at Tom, his group of friends following him. The rest of the school saw this as a signal to disperse and left for their first class. Tom’s friend moved towards him and lead him somewhere, hopefully, the nurse who will probably send him home. Iris stood still with her fist clenched so tight her short and stump nails left marks on her palms. She couldn’t believe people like this existed. People who bullied and humiliated others for power and entertainment. Revulsion bubbled up inside her. At the so-called Royal Five who stepped on people for games, at the students who just laughed and helped, at the teachers who didn’t even attempt to stop them. At herself, because she wasn’t any better than the people her disgust was pointed at.