King and I bought the form when the school had dismissed for the day. He'd decided that we meet at the empty art class to discuss how the class presidency was going to work. I agreed with him, more because I did need to speak with King and, would I say no to someone I was beginning to get to know?

I was seated on a class seat while he chose to sit at a desk. His green jacket hung on his shoulders revealing a short-sleeved blue shirt that had an ash long sleeve coming down his arm.

"We have the form, what now?"

"Well, you heard the Dean. We take this for the holiday, get ready, and right as school reopens, the real thing goes down."

"Real thing, huh?"

I pressed my lips and clutched my binders tighter. "I meant the campaign and debate and election and all."

"Did you. . .Happen to talk to my sister, by any chance?"

"I. . .No. Not today. Why?"

He stepped down from the desk and walked to me, leaning down a bit so that we were almost at eye level. "No reason in particular. She was saying this thing about us running together." He raised an eyebrow, expecting a reaction.

Kimberly Isnaul would kill me because I sat on her chair and drank her wine? Or was it because I destroyed her cake - her party? Luan's close ally, you suppose.

"Listen." I subconsciously stood and stepped back. "I wanted to apologize for what I did to your father and what I'd almost caused your mother. I tripped on something and-"

"It was Sandra."

"No, I was the one who tripped and fell on the ca-"

"No, I mean it was Sandra who made you fall." My eyes widened and he just rolled his. "You're saying you didn't know? It was clear, she stuck her legs out, right after she told you to get off the stage. She'd caused the mess, the supposed scene they said you created-"

"No, King, you're getting it all wrong. I was feeling uncomfortable up there and Sandra was just coming to my aid."

"My foot!" He spat. "Are you that blind, Emery? Or are you really bathed in naivety?"

"Excuse me?"

"Because you wouldn't speak, because you want to trust every single person, because you want to help, because you're too busy thinking about your feelings and how it's going to hurt others! And now? It's everywhere, on the student page, for everyone to see, laugh and mock you, while you cower, hiding in some shell you shouldn't be."

I stepped even further away from him. He walked towards me until I was against a wall and there was no way to step back any further. "If this is how you want to run for class president, then" - he sucked in a deep breath - "it's just not going to work."

I pushed him as away from me as I could, heading to the door, getting it open, and running out. There in the corridor, Josh leaned on the wall. He was waiting for me.

Could this day not get any worse?

I turned quietly to leave through the other way, but George stood in front of me, towering over me. "Look, here's our crybaby in a princess dress."

"I. . .Am not a crybaby." I breathed in.

"That's not what I see." His index fingers traced the spot below my eyes and then he stuck it at me to see the sop right there on his index finger. "Can you see this? It's called a tear, baby."

"Leave me alone."

"You didn't want to talk to me at that party, hm. Was I not handsome, now?" I remained silent. "Tell me!" Josh's hands were at his favourite place again, my stomach. I stepped back and made a run for it, stopped when a pair of hands seized mine.

"Running, always." Josh teased.

"This is wrong!" I fired back. "It's against our school rules. It's just wrong." My voice softened. My stomach did hurt this time. I groaned.

"Let's get the hell outta here man," I heard George whisper but then I saw their legs run and stop.

"What's going on here?" King's voice sounded. Our eyes met, and I saw his expression go from soft to angry. "Seriously, man?" He hastily came to them.

"C'mon bro, let's talk this through." But a blow had hit George's face right before there was any bro conversation between them. Then he hit Josh. I felt like throwing up.

I turned and ran. Only managing to do that weakly, I clutched my binders and my bag and went out the front to the school bus.

***

As I waited for the bus to stop at my house, today's event came back to me. I'd woken up on my bed when the alarm went off, feeling new, normal, for that small second. When my eyes snapped open and I'd sat up, the pink dress was folded neatly beside me on the four-poster bed. And, it wasn't dirty.

When I'd opened the door of my room, Dad was rushing down the stairs, heading for the front door. "Dad?" I'd called out.

He'd turned and looked at me. "Emery, I'll talk to you later. I have to-"

"Go?" I exhaled, "I know."

"Em..."

"Just go already! It's completely fine. Don't talk to your daughter, or Rowan or Nora, or mum. It's completely normal. It's what dads do!" I'd walked back into my room, shut the door, and rested against it, letting my tears fall freely.

School struck hard but wasn't as humiliating as I'd thought it'd be. Sure enough, the video was on the student page. I hadn't known about it though until I was walking along the crowded corridor and everyone who saw me giggled and whispered to whoever was beside them. I didn't see Sandra throughout the day, we didn't attend the same classes so even lessons wouldn't make us meet. And, when it was break time, I'd carried my homemade food-sandwiches that I'd hurriedly prepared and a juice box-and I'd stayed in the library.

It didn't matter if the videos were everywhere or not. It wouldn't, couldn't, make me popular. Would the cheerleaders allow it? Would Luan allow it?

I'd spent the beautiful day ignoring everyone until King Isnaul called me and said, "We should probably go get that form now, Emery," and I'd just pressed my lips and smiled.

"Yeah." We'd walked beside each other to the office of the Dean of Studies where we bought two forms and decided to stay in an empty classroom.

I was successfully doing a good job getting away from everyone, somehow I'd just screwed it up with Josh Watson and his brother, George. These people just never gave up.

"Come on now, Emery, do you want to sleep on the bus?"

I turned away from the window and realized we were now at my house, a light-yellow almost amber-painted house. Beside the garden was Sandra's ivory sports car. And then there was Dad's black minivan.

I exhaled and made my way in, greeted by Dad and Nora talking excitedly in the living room. They looked up when I shut the door and cleared my throat a bit and I looked at anywhere but my dad.

"Good afternoon, dad."

"Em. . ." he stood up and hugged me. I kept my hands at my sides, not shaking, not doing anything, just standing there, with my purple school bag around my shoulders. "How was school?"

"School was good. Nora, where's mum?"

"Kitchen. She's with Sandra."

"Oh." I slipped out of the hug rather roughly and ran up the stairs, immediately throwing my bag on the bed. I glanced at my wristwatch, it was only a quarter past three. I had fifteen minutes to have a bath and wait for Crypta. So I did just that.

It was three-thirty-three p.m. when Crypta came through the portal and entered my room. I stood in front, waiting for him. "You're three minutes late."

"Someone's eager," he said, his lips twitching.

"Can we leave, please?" He didn't waste words, we just went through what he came from, hand-in-hand.

***

"You lack speed, and it is the first skill you'd be learning today. But first, I need to be sure you're ready."

"Just don't hit me again."

Crypta and I were in his training room, or training ground, and I was now in the ash track set I'd worn at my last visit to this circular room on the ground floor of the large castle - the castle of the Neymen kingdom.

"You first need to build your muscles and strength to take down your opponents, before we get on the combat techniques."

"Oh, it's combat, now?" I squinted, unconsciously jogging on the spot, the pair of white trainers rubbing against the floor.

He held my right hand and dragged me towards him, then he made me turn away from him and face the wall at the far end.

"What do you see?"

There was a red flag hanging there, with a yellow star in the middle and black lines all around like a cheetah.

"Uh... a wall and a drape, why?"

"Run."

"Hmm?"

"Run to the other end, now!" He said the last word with a higher voice and I ran, confused, to the other end. "Walk back!" I did as he said looking at all around me as I approached him, from his weapon ledge to the equipment available in the room.

"That was poor, Emerald."

"You don't say."

He turned me so that I was facing the wall again. His two hands rested on either side of my back and then he pushed slightly so that my chest projected forward. "Chest higher." His hands rested on my hips now and he pulled back, "Legs straight." Then he held my chin between his thumb and index finger and tilted them so that my face felt parallel to the wall, "Face forward... And," he raised my arms and left them to fall freely at my sides.

"And what?"

"Run!"

I broke into a run. Abandoning the standing posture he put me in, I approached the wall. Crypta ordered me to walk back. "Adopt the posture!" He ordered.

Chests forward, hips back, legs straight, I walked briskly to him, keeping my face forward, focusing on him until I made it to where he stood.

"Impressive, turn around... Keep your legs straight. Now run! Face focused on the destination!"

I got there. He told me to walk back and I did, never looking away from his face, never breaking eye contact. We repeated the process over and over again. I ran to the wall and walked back to him.

He took the training out to the field and had me run across the field, pushing me to run faster in each try. Walking back to him took more time, between 3-4 minutes. Running forth ranged around thirty seconds, getting smaller at each mile but never below thirty seconds.

My limbs got weaker before I noticed. My speed decreased noticeably and even my walking had turned to a long, heavy gait. Once more, he told me to run, and with short, quick breaths, it turned to walking until I stopped and sat on the fake grass.

He got inside the training room just in front of the field and then got back out with a bottle in his hand which he extended.

"What's that?" I asked, accepting it still.

"Water... You cannot be tired, Emerald." I lowered my eyebrows, greedily drinking from the bottle. "Just a small sip," he cautioned. I groaned, dropped the bottle and placed my hands on the grass, using them as a support for my tired back.

"You did well, I must commend. The rule is we practice Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, how's that?"

"What happens to Tuesday?" I asked.

"Own that weekday, Emerald. Use it to get in good shape. And, tomorrow, I feel that you should focus on yourself."

"I don't understand what you're saying."

Staring at the grass beside me, he sighed and sat down. "Don't ask, order. Don't beg, take. And, say no when you have to. It's okay to own your feelings every so often, you hear me?"

I nodded, wondering where he got that from.

.

A/N

Okay, are we really six reads away from a hundred, and three votes away from sixty? And do we have exactly fifty comments? Aargghhhhh!

Asdfjklwowhysjdnudfifnud; *crazy dance* Yikes! *looks around to ensure no one is watching because boy am I a terrible dancer*

Lol, thank you all my lovely readers, voters and all who take their time to comment on my work. I know a popular writer reading this might cue an eye roll, "100 reads is nothing" or whatever, but to me, this is an achievement. You readers are the reason I'm writing in the first place and the fact that my work is acknowledged by someone means a lot. This is my first real attempt at a novel I am proud to own and I am so damn happy about it.

When I first started this novel, I wanted to outline the importance of self-discovery by discovering a new place that puts you out for a big adventure and helps you reveal your true self. Most of my drafts revolve around the same theme and with time, I noticed that that was my style (is it called troupe?) of writing.

Self-discovery has always been an interesting topic for me. More because, every day, I encounter people who want to fit in, to join the current trend, to do what the cool kids in school are doing. And I'm not gonna lie, sometimes I find myself being a victim of that. I want to STRESS that it's completely okay to be your flawed self, and I want to pass that message by taking advantage of my favourite hobby - writing.

I hope you're enjoying the novel so far. Thanks for the reads, votes, comments - my motivation to keep writing!

Sorry about the rant though. I got so excited lol. Do share your contribution on self-discovery if you're a fan of that amazing topic too.

Don't forget to vote if you enjoyed this chapter. Till next time lovelies. :)