ᵈᵉʷ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶠᶤʳᵉ
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| Dedicated to KendallBlacc |

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8:03 a.m

September 17th, 2018.
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          "Good morning, students." Mariah began in a steady, neutral voice.

"I welcome you all, royal Ruthanners, to another splendid term of academic studies at Ruthanne Georgeson High School." Her voice began to climb up, clapping with a boom that resounded within the closed auditorium. "It is my utmost pleasure to see you all here, prepared for and enthusiastic to scaling new academic milestones in your journey to greatness. A greatness I believe will be attained in its fullest by you bright minds. I trust you all had a wonder summer holiday, judging by the rosy faces I can see all around me. . . .

A pause, chuckle. ". . . for our old, long time students, my face is not unusual appearance, as some of you have been bona-fide and honorable students for more than three years. But, for our very esteemed baby royals just starting in their first year, please allow me introduce myself. . . I am Mariah Georgeson, the distinguished Headmistress of this prestigious institution. . . we have here. . .some very dignitary guests. . ."

*     *     *

9:12 a.m

          A thunderous clap broke out in the auditorium as an associate of the school's board called a guest speaker up to the front.

More claps followed Asha Brooks—the General Overseer of Sophia Georgeson Foundation, rising up from her seat and walking to the podium.

An unspoken greeting with the face passed between her and the staff member, and she was left alone.

She faced the students.

"A good day to you all, RG'ers." She lowered her head and put her mouth to the small microphone mounted on the slanted surface of the stand. "It's so nice seeing your radiant faces this morning. I am Asha Brooks, the General Manager of Sophia Georgeson Foundation. I've been the overseer of things for the past couple of years since the demise of Mrs Georgeson. Her soul rest in peace. She. . .was the brain behind the foundation, and also of the biggest scholarship programs in this school. The Sophia Georgeson Foundation Scholarships.

"Um... Sophia was an activist, a fighter, passionate and dedicated. Especially to the cause of the helpless, hopeless, and devastated. She was a psychologist and a sociologist, and... I've never known anyone, or met anyone with a social conscience greater than Sophia's. She loved to help, fight, and be the spring board in people's life to launch them to great heights. She was always so saddened by the unequal allotment of opportunities and privileges, especially when there seem to be a lot of really bright kids living in the hood and in the streets.

"The Sophia Georgeson Foundation focuses on kids, especially. Kids with disabilities—physical, intellectual, mental health disorders, vision impairment, learning and a host of other brain diseases common to kids. So, it wasn't until a few years back that Sophia's interest was sparked in 'the ghetto kid'. A lack of financial fundings is a disability on its own too. It's crippling, crushing, and a rot to the bone. Poverty is a really deadly disease, a cycle of viciousness that is so hard to break off, spinning and spinning into the next generation of kids. And with the right information alone, the right tools, equipments... sorry, for my technical terms." She laughed, and went on. "With the right skill, and knowledge, poverty can be combated.

"Education is the first weapon, and a host of other things. This is just a sketchy background of how the scholarships was borne, and what we have now. It is an initiative aimed at the financially challenged. The ones living in the not too conducive communities. The scholarship scours for the brightest, the zealous and ambitious. The one who is not willing to put up a weak fight. And trust me, if you hold on—stick to this to the end—you'll be unveiling before the world in a matter of few years. The SGFS is for the initiative. The talented, one who believes in her dreams, and in a good tomorrow. Both for herself and for the world. It is not just any ordinary scholarship. This requires a commitment and a dedication, because, we're talking about world leaders and world changers here. History makers. So it is not a flimsy scholarship you accept like you hold a pinch of salt.

"You will be an ambassador, if you not already are. You, and I mean you, not just the SGFS scholars, but every single one of you is the face of Ruthanne. It's image. To the scholars, you can't be found in any compromising acts." She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in.

"No image damaging or tainting situations. No derogatory, debauchery conducts, and behaviors. Because this—all of this, if broken, carries no other option than expulsion. And do let me remind you, that expulsion from Ruthanne Georgeson..." Paused. "You know what an expulsion from Ruthanne mean? it is a life marring thing. For. Life. It cuts into every areas of your life – relationally, occupationally, even in the world. It puts a dent on you, maybe forever... and affects your chances of... another admission, job securement, being chosen to oversee projects, and participation in major things. So, see why I said this is no flimsy thing to toy with.

"But on the bright side, Ruthanne offers you unheard-of chances of changing lives. And being the next great Ben Carson, or Steve Jobs, or Carl Sagan, or... Mozart. Or Christie." A smile spread out across the lips of every students in the hall, easing up their tense composure. "Ruthanne is that molding, and impacting. There are other minor goals you're to meet though. You know, keeping your grades at a point, and even taking it higher than that. Engaging in community services, and some others extracurricular activities beside excursions – It is a world in here, and one filled with magical experiences. I—trust the Headmistress to brief you more on this. We are committed, called and obligated to bringing out the gem in you.

"Have a wonderful stay at Ruthanne Georgeson!" She shouted into the dark, bringing her speech to a end.

The auditorium lightened up as every Ruthanner rose to their feet in a ringing cheering of Brooks at her departure from the podium.

*     *     *

"Look at that skeen. Deep, dark, skin. It'll have a good head start rivaling yours," Carolyne Higgins commented, sizing up Demi standing 'off-ishly' on the stage.

Ivie's light chocolate eyes flickered to the blonde doll sitting beside her and to the black girl many distance away from her. Her jaw ticked, causing a tug from her stomach in response.

Carolyne continued to throw offhand remarks about Demi's skin, running her fingers through her waist-length platinum blonde hair.

The tug in Ivie wound tighter.

Th’ dumb bitch just won't shut up.

Why does she keep comparing her to that stick shit?! She took in Demisola, with probing eyes, looking sickly and thin like a syringe; so airy and exposed like a carcass to encircling vultures.  And damn if the vulture in her couldn't spot the girl's spinelessness. Weakness wreathe her like an invisible cloak, yet a cloak so defining to anyone who would not look at her for more than a second.

With Ivie's conclusions, her indignation burned: she's just a poor scum with nothing. For some odd reason she doesn't know, she felt a compulsion to have the girl closer, and talk.

"Bring her, El," She said out loud.

"Huh?" Ellen Cavallero poked her head between Ivie and Carolyne - from a back seat.

Ivie whipped her head around to stare bullets into the Mexican's dark eyes. Her brown irises shot venom that leapt at Ellen's skin like tiny pins, pulled her back into her seat, and conveyed their deadly meaning to her – she was demanding Ivie repeat herself.

Ellen stood on tottery Louboutin heels and stepped out from the row of seats onto the aisle. She sashayed down the red carpet. She hopped the steps one at a time, and crossed the space to where Demi was.

Demisola shifted her attention - flitting her eyelids, to the redhead standing before her.

Ellen started. "Come over there."

"Excuse me?"

"There, come over." El jerked her head to chairs below.

... "...Why?" ...

An eye roll followed a snort from the redhead. "Just come!"

"No–" Demi blurted. "I–I'm sorry. I ... have things to get to." And, she did some nonsensical movements with her hands, pointing the girl's glare to the backstage where casual conversations and informal familiarities, pictures taking was going on.

Air rushed into Ellen's mouth and got lodged in her lungs as she stared, eye popping, at the retreating figure of Demi.

She was shaken to the core, couldn't move from the spot and turned around to face what will be a raging inferno of Ivie's anger.
She wasn't going back to tell Ivie Okoye 'no'...

*

*

*

If Ellen was shocked, the other two girls with Ivie were floored to smithereens.

"What the fuck? Did that girl just did what I thought she did?" Rahama Ataliya Bello whispered from behind Carolyne.

"Damn! She was only competing with your skin tone, and now she's gonna contend with your authority too?" Carolyne cried, the thin voice of hers laden with an American accent.

Ivie's eyeballs flashed to Carolyne as the leash in her snapped mercilessly.
The bitch ripped from its confines, bursting out from layers of a put together persona like a volcano. She snarled, baring fangs in hunger as Ivie looked back to Demisola.

No, this is not happening!

She can't take it!

No...

No!

She charged up from her seat, and on a swift turn of her heels, was storming down the aisle to leave the hall.

Demi watched; with the rest of the Ruthanners gawping at Ivie, wondering what in the world had just happened.

It surely, couldn't, have anything to do with her?

-

I mean – it surely, couldn't right? 🤔😁

*Ivie's last name has been changed from "Okorie" to "Okoye".

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Sorry, sorry, sorrrry, for being away for so long. To Vanessa, and all of you. 😥 I saw your comments... I haven't had access to the internet for the past weeks. I was also occupied with the story, and things in real life.

I hope this make up for it. 💙 And the next chapter won't take this long in coming.

Share your thoughts about the chapter below! The speech, Ivie blowing up, requesting for Demi to come... Oh and meeting Ren in the previous chapter. (it wasn't really a meeting, but kind of...) Feel free to point out any typos, drop your critique... anything.

I'd also appreciate you voting if you enjoyed the chapters. 😃

Thanks for your support... at all times.

x.