Kendra

"You have got to be kidding me," I stared at the letter in my hands. The edges were charred, and the paper had gone crisp from her most recent mishap. That's what happens when you can't hold back the heat. Rolling my eyes at the now barely readable scribblings my eldest brother had sent me, I turned and grabbed my bag off the floor. Once I'd shoved the still warm parchment into it, I slung it over my shoulder and walked out the door.

When I passed a mirror, I paused, silently cursing my appearance. I'd burned myself again, this time on my neck, probably when I was practicing a new trick earlier. I liked to call it flaming fingers, which was easy enough; problem was, I couldn't keep the flames small enough for it to be a simple trick.

With a sigh, I combed my fingers through my hair in a haphazard attempt to tame the messy locks. I grumbled at myself for not donning any make up today. My skin was always so light, and those pesky brown dots were clear as day on face. I wished I would have put on a little blush or concealer, something, but whatever. Too late now.

Shaking my head a bit, I left the building, walking along the stone wall and squinting into the sunlight. I was glad I chose to wear a skirt today; it was nice out and the sun felt good on my skin. A smile, lopsided smile made it way onto my face and I fiddled with the buttons on my shirt, walking down the length of the building. I stopped when I spotted a few familiar faces.

There were a lot of those around here: familiar faces. Eithraw Academy was elite, after all. So elite, in fact, that though there weren't all that many people in the first place, there were quite a few kids that often made me wonder how they could have gotten in. I was one of the lucky ones, my parents had no problem shoving me in: they were rich, and I had a nearly perfect record.

I'd never been caught doing anything illegal, all the adults in my life said I was bright and well behaved (well, except for my parents, but they'd say anything to get me in), and I excelled in almost every subject. Math, Art, Horseback riding, Archery, Swimming, Cooking, Music, P.E.... Basically the only thing I struggled with was History, and that was probably because I couldn't care less about the subject. Why did I need to know so much about people that have been dead for centuries? What happened happened, and it's not going to change just because I know about it. So I really didn't see the point.

What probably put them over the edge was how many awards I've earned and how many languages I speak. English was an obvious one, but there was also Italian, French, German, Spanish, Lithuanian, Chinese, Portuguese, Romanian, Japanese, Afrikaans, Dutch, Greek, Russian, and Swahili, not to mention Latin. Like I said, I was a shoo-in.

Then there were people like him. With some of the things I've heard about that boy, I really don't understand how it's possible that he goes to school here. Not that I'm complaining. I'm not really sure how the guy feels about me, but pestering him rarely fails to make my day. With a smirk and a mockingly flirtatious tone in my voice, I called out to him, "Hey there, Thierry."

When I was within a few feet of him, my eyes then went to the soaking wet brunette next to him, and I shook my head. It was hard not to laugh. My hand went to my jutted out hip and my eyes sparkled. "Picking on pretty little girls again?" I questioned, cocking my head to the side and quirking a brow.

The End

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