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sᴀʏ ɪᴛ ᴀɪɴᴛ sᴏ

By kshahidx

+Watch
Replies: 7 / 11 days ago

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  1. [Allowed] seka


[center [pic https://i.imgur.com/q3Te9pz.png]]
[center [size30 [google-font https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Meddon]
[Meddon Say it Ain't So]]]
[center [font "century gothic" This is the story of how anyone, no matter how rich or pretty, can be taken down. Waverly Academy is an elite boarding school in Upstate New York filled with glamorous rich kids and sprinkled with a few know it alls, also known as scholarship kids. For years this place has run properly and under a strict hierarchy. [I They] are at the top and the [I others] are at the bottom; it’s as simple as that. However, this year is different they come to find, as their dirty little secrets amongst those of their classmates begin to spread. As trust and loyalty are tested, the trusted group of four begin to slowly break away. At this point it’s all for one as the hunt for Miss or [I Mister] chatterbox rages on.]]

[center [size11 [b [font "times" This graphic was edited by me using pictures off the internet. please do not reuse.]]]

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It was no surprise that Carter had been able to find me. I hadn’t texted him my dorm room yet but Carter always had a way of finding things out—typically charming women. I silently envied the guy, then again I didn’t necessarily find the same thrill but I didn’t judge him for it. I mentally note that he probably heard me, too. I tried my best to be quiet with my electric drumkit and headphones, but just the act of banging on the fake snares was pretty loud. There was a pretty strict noise rule but most people left me alone because they knew I was pretty decent at it. They also knew that they could get into the underground concerts if they didn’t report me, otherwise I’d make damn sure they didn’t.
I had to admit that I had become somewhat popular on the band alone, but it was really awkward for me because I wasn’t used to that kind of attention. I was usually the quiet one in the room but Carter definitely also had a way of bringing us female attention. I’d participated occasionally but most of the time I was too lazy to engage with girls—a one-night-stand every once-and-a-while wasn’t illegal, though. But those were pretty rare for me. I sat back into my drum throne, letting my hands lay relaxed in my lap as I eyed him and chuckled in response.

“You fuckin’ would, man,” I shook my head playfully and feigned contempt. He really was a dog, that’s for sure, but he was a riot, for sure. “Yeah, I ‘spose she is,” I nodded. Ana had become a good friend of mine, the fiery red-headed tomboy was a spitfire full of sarcasm and indifference and I fucking loved it. I’d met her last year in a biology class when we were paired up. I don’t remember much of that class, which is typical, but I did remember her. We actually got kicked out of class once for laughing too much. We had a good time although there was a brief panic after that. She was obsessed with the whole sports thing—something I had a hard time getting behind but she had a real passion for it and I had to respect that, just like I loved the drums she loved… balls. Hah—I laughed to myself and pulled out my phone to shoot her a text where to meet us.

We had spoken sporadically over the summer break and I was excited for what this year would bring for all of us. Carter had met her a few months after we had met second semester but hadn’t been around her too much because the semester ended and we all headed our own separate ways. I had a feeling he’d love her and felt a little protective of the girl but I knew better than anyone else that he’d definitely get a kick out of her, too. And even if he didn’t, he’d surely respect her for my sake.

We managed to make our way down to the main theater where orientation took place. I watched as the young, naïve-looking (basically) children marched around us frantically searching for where they needed to go. “Remember that shit? I don’t miss it,” I chortled, leaning in to Carter due to the loud hum from the increasing chatter as we got closer to our destination. It didn’t take long to spot Ana, she was impossible to miss with her auburn tresses—most people gave her shit because they thought it was fake because it was so orange—and I appreciated that. She stood out like a sore thumb although I had to giggle when I saw her wearing her school uniform.
“You might as well be a light-house,” I jested with Ana and she shook her head stoically at me. “Who’s your friend?”
Caleb Donnelly / Seka / 21h ago
I had eventually made my way into the dorm. I walked toward the counter, spotting a familiar face and instantly, my intention would have been to walk away. Instead, I had hopes that Melissa had a bad memory and had no intentions of bringing up the fact that I all but ghosted her over break.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she said as I leaned against the counter.
“Hello to you too. Look I need –”
“Are you fucking with me?” She asked with a raised brow, a chuckle befalling her lips. I could see her turning red as a few eyes turned toward her, they were also in the presence of the parents of first years. She stood up and leaned in close.
“Why are you so hostile? Look, I just need to know Caleb’s room number.”
“Even if I was allowed to do that, I wouldn’t. You know I can’t give out student information and of course there’s the fact you’re a scum ball.”
I resisted the urge to mention that Melissa looked hot when she was upset. Though I knew she had surpassed the grieving stage, not in denial and no longer depressed. No, she was flat out angry. Who wouldn’t be? I had dated her for a while, slept with her and then kind of fizzled out of her life, blatantly ignoring her text messages. Though, they had never really made their relationship official, at least in my eyes. What was with the need to be so coupley when it came to certain people? Wasn’t this the time of our lives that we are supposed to explore different options and date around? Not to mention, it wasn’t my fault that she had failed to mention she was a virgin until [I after] we had already slept together.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t call you back okay? It’s been super crazy with my dad you know,” I said. She did know the two butt heads quite a bit. “I just – I got a bit freaked out, I admit.” It wasn’t all the way a lie, but I wasn’t exactly a hundred percent apologetic. Still, it seemed to soften her up a bit. “I wanted to call you, but I just didn’t know how to deal with everything.” I looked around, nibbling on my bottom lip. “Why don’t we go out and talk about this? In private?”

I watched as she slowly sunk in her seat, a hint of a smile on her face. Bingo. Coming into my third year, I certainly had managed to officially master handling different kinds of women.
“Third floor, I’m sure you should be able to hear him.” Melissa said. “I’m off at nine,” she said suddenly. Of course with my popularity, being someone that could be around me was what most girls wanted. they liked being able to say they had an in when it came to me and my friends.

Melissa was right though, I could hear Caleb by the time I was off the elevator. His door was barely cracked, making it easy to walk in on him.

I chuckled, playfully pushing Caleb back before sitting on his unmade bed.
“You know we don’t have to go, but how else am I going to get a good look at all the newbies?” I winked toward Caleb before coming to a stand. I came to a stand and wrapped my arm around his shoulder. “Come on, I bet Ana is waiting for us anyways.” The redhead had somehow maneuvered her way into the boy’s friendship, but she seemed to fit surprisingly. She also added that feminine touch that I believed we needed.

[center [size22 [b ____________________________]]]

[right [pic https://i.imgur.com/ObW4f4o.png]] I found the countertop check in quite easily. Fortunately it seemed the dorms weren’t coed, though I wondered how hard the rule was enforced. My cheeks burned and I quickly forced it out of my mind. “Mikayla Lockhart, you’ll be rooming with second year Ana Walsh.” I took the keycard offered as well as a small contract that basically gave me a chance to document anything wrong with the room. Seemed simple enough, for a place that was this expensive I didn’t think that there would be a scratch anywhere nor an outlet out. Though, I suspected if I left the room in a condition it wasn’t, they were shy about asking for their money and my mom was already barely able to help pay for books.

I began toward the elevator, which was taking longer than I wanted and more than likely was due to the countless girls coming in and out with suitcase after suitcase of belongings. I stared at the orange suitcase sitting beside me, plastered with mages of places I wanted to go: Paris, Greece, Africa. I hated to think about the fact that there were places these kids that didn’t blink an eye about when it came to going. [I Oh Miami? Sure, I’ll book the flight after third period, we should be there in less than an hour if we take daddy’s jet.”

I rolled my eyes, glad that I somehow managed to keep these thoughts to myself. After giving up on waiting, I began up the winding staircase, pass girls who seemingly had come much earlier to unpack. I reached the room then, opening it to find a red haired girl already inside. She seemed nice enough, though I had never had a roommate other than my mom. All I could hope was that we would be able to get along. I realized I had been staring, before I finally shook my head and reached my hand out, giving a timid smile.

“Hi, yes I’m new – I mean, I’m a first year.” Of course I was new, I imagined a school like this had its regulars by now. I noticed the empty side of the room and walked toward it to place my things down. I dug around in my green satchel and pulled out my phone. I know it may have seemed trivial, but I took a shot for my snapchat anyways. I was finally here and I really wanted to get out of being [I that smart girl Mikayla]. I wanted to reinvent myself.
carter / kshahidx / 3d ago
I reached my slender hands to the crown of my head to tighten the pony tail that held my scorching auburn hair. I dug my fingers into the stretched hair to briefly wiggle around and put pressure on my skull to relieve some of the tension. The dull aching was the consequence of the almost perpetual up-do I forced my hair and scalp to endure. My earthy, polished-amber pools eyed the looming archways as I passed by each threshold, entering into a new hallway and continuing about the maze of the school. I silently appreciated the fact that I was now a second-year, a sophomore, no longer the sparkly gem in the room—a Freshman—that brought with it unwanted attention and gossip.
A fresh mint gum slapped around my mouth as I chewed and tried to blow out small bubbles it wasn’t meant for. One of my palms held tightly to the strap of my smoky mesh bag weighing on my shoulders. The pack was filled with a few odds-and-ends: a couple softballs, a glove, a sweater, a schedule book, some pens, gum, a water bottle and a notebook. My other hand securely held the grip of my white Easton Ghost softball bat, the most expensive thing I had with me. At a whopping $450, I guarded this bat with my life. I had on a pair of grey Nike fleece joggers, blue tennis shoes and a navy-blue school T-shirt.

It was pretty early into the morning—I tended to prefer practicing in the morning—because less people do deal with. This year I was hell-bent on taking third-base from the brunette Junior, Margarette, who held the spot. I hated being in outfield and this year I was going to somehow make my way infield. I had already completed unpacking my room yesterday, one of the actual first people on campus. I had my belongings put away and organized with everything in its rightful place. There was a few pictures on the walls of my highschool softball team because I missed them so much; they all really were like sisters to me. I also had a couple posters of professional softball players on the wall, like Monica Abbott—my hero even though I realized long ago that the action of third base was my preference not the pressure of pitching.

A couple of hours later and I had finished running my laps, stretching, and throwing a few balls. I briefly ran into my coach who seemed impressed to see me on the field so early and from that I had a smile plastered on my face the entire trek back to my dorm. I didn’t know who I was sharing my room with and I was nervous but I didn’t have too bad of a time last year and I hoped this year wouldn’t be much different. I was a bit of a tomboy—I strayed away from too much make-up and tended to wear jeans and sweatshirts when I could. The school uniform required a skirt and I was still a bit angry that my parents urged this private college considering it was one of only a few in the nation—aside from military schools—that required a uniform. I had moved past my irritation last year but I still prickled with a bit of disgust. What happened to individuality? I scoffed to myself as I rest my bag down onto the floor and sat on my bed to reach over and untie my shoes. I’d switch into a comfortable pair of moccasins after getting the sweat saturated socks peeled off. I was in the middle of doing this when I heard a knock at the door and a young, bright-eyed girl opened the door. I tried to be friendly, dropping my socks and waving towards her.
“Hi! You look like you might be new, are you rooming with me? That’s awesome! My name’s Ana, I’m a second-year undecided and I play softball,” I casually motioned to the walls. I knew what it felt like to be a scared Freshman and I hoped that I could, if in some small way, alleviate that feeling a little by offering her a good welcoming—something I never got.
Ana Walsh / Seka / 4d ago
I was one of the first ones at the dorm because I wanted to set up my electric drum-kit. The dorms weren’t very spacious but I had managed fitting my necessities into the compacted room before. It’s not like I really was a materialistic person, anyway. I had a black Menzingers tapestry already placed on the wall above my bed and my assortment of band-T’s hanging in the closet. I liked to feel settled but I knew within the week my clothes would be strewn about the room and I’d probably piss off my roommate. As college is, I suppose. At least I try?
I also wanted to get out of my mom and dad’s as soon as possible. As much as I hated the dorms, anything beat being at home. I was constantly berated about going to college and doing something with my life—told that it was the only way to make—and maybe they were right. My dad had it engrained in my head since I was a kid that engineering was the right way to go and Mom didn’t really sway him or defend me at all.

My door had a “DO NOT ENTER” sign hanging from it from the time I was twelve-years-old. You think they listened? Nope. [i ‘Caleb, your music is too loud, turn it down!’] and [i ‘Caleb Donnelly, you should be studying! Where did I go wrong as your mother?’], and it didn’t end there. It was exhausting and stiphling. At least at school I could play music and do whatever I desired. No constant supervision and repeated lectures about ‘making good choices’ and ‘making something of myself’. Why couldn’t they understand I could do that playing music?

I heaved a sigh and grabbed the drumsticks nearest me after I had slipped on my Yamaha stereo headphones and let out all my frustration. I silently thanked myself for saving up money and buying the kit. Mom and dad didn’t endorse the music thing at all so I decided after all the guilting that maybe I could make them happy and still reach my goals—it would just be a bit more difficult—then I could show them how wrong they were. The therapy that drumming brought me was unmatched by any other hobby or activity, except for maybe hanging out with my friends but even then, I wasn’t much of a talker. Blasting metal and playing the drums has always been my most effective drug of choice.

My tousled and grease-laden hair clung to itself in its bun but I could feel starting to loosen. I rested my sticks on the electric snare closest to me to free up my hands and reached my pale arms backwards to adjust the dirty-blonde locks. It was then that I felt an earmuff lift up and hit me on the side of the head. My reacted was swift as I immediately threw off my headphones and swung around with a glare and a clenched fist raising midway into the air. My scowl transitioned to a beam when Carter’s familiar face came into view. I meandered to a stand to smack him on the shoulder.
“Fuck, Carter, you scared the shit out’a me. I was about to knock you the fuck out,” I chuckled and shoved my hands into my dark denim straight-fitted pants. I had on a pair of ashy Vans sneakers and I rocked back-and-forth from heel to toe while I eyed Carter. “Do we need to go to orientation or is that just for Freshmans? I don’t want to go and I didn’t read the shit they emailed me,” I admitted as my palm rose to rub the back of my neck. If it wasn’t mandatory I wasn’t going. Then again, even if we didn’t have to, Carter had a tendency to drag me along to things and I had to admit it usually ended up in some good laughs. “Or you gon’a make my ass go?”
Caleb Donnelly / Seka / 4d ago
My fingers tapped the steering wheel, following the rhythm of drum solo currently playing. The Hunters was an unknown band that my father had just signed and they were pretty good in my opinion. Everything was good until my father got this little hands on it and soon corporate started feeding ideas and bullshit into the band member’s heads before they were completely unrecognizable, their sound no different from anyone else’s and yet it got them money and fame. That what they wanted. I sighed out, closing my eyes at the exact moment the chorus hit as the tab had finally lodged itself into my system. Coming to school high wasn’t really ideal, but that was for people who gave a fuck. I earned my stripes freshman year, kept my nose clean and stayed out of trouble. Well, I just didn’t get caught. This was the third school I had been sent to and my dad made it clear that if I didn’t clean up my act, he had no issue sending me to live with my mother and there was no way I was going back to fucking Kansas.

I loved my mother, but after spending sixteen years with her and my stepdad, I was ready to experience something big and different and New York offered that. My dad didn’t really have a choice on account of the court, but it didn’t seem to change the way he lived his life when I came into the picture, he just had to clear out one of the four bedrooms of his apartment. That said, he soon learned that I had no qualms when it came to defending myself or my accent and so with that, he learned soon enough that maybe private schooling would teach me what he couldn’t. I admit, the accent soon wore off, at least it wasn’t as strong as before which led to people easing up on me when it came to teasing. Though what really seemed to calm me down was a few puffs or especially so on nervous days, a small tab

With his dad’s credit card, it wasn’t hard to find the money for these things and after a while, his dealer had suggested he help out. He had the best hotspot, a bunch of rich kids with mommy and daddy’s money to spend? They were desperate to free themselves from the shackles of being preppy and proper. His hands ran through the long blonde strands, still wet from this morning’s swim. He turned off his car and got out, the air was cold and crisp which felt good as he could feel his body temperature rising. He was floating, which would make this first day go by so much quicker.

“Where is that little stinker?” I asked aloud, lighting a cigarette as my eyes searched for the familiar face of my past roommate.
carter / kshahidx / 6d ago
“Are you alright?” I looked at my mother’s hand placed gently on my arm. I had been out of it the whole drive from Jersey. Never in my life did I believe I would get into Waverly Academy, one of the most elite boarding schools in New York. This was an ivy league college that only the rich offs the rich could get into, unless you were lucky like me and worked your ass off to get a scholarship. After having me at a young age, my mother, Karen Lee, wanted nothing but the best for me. She broke her back doing any odd job she could to put herself through college and through adulthood worked double shifts just to assure that I had access to the best education. I knew she feared that I would make the same mistake as her, getting pregnant when young. But considering my dating history, I didn’t think she had anything to worry about.

“Yeah I’m fine, just can’t believe this,” I said with a small smile. My hands trembled as they began to undo the seatbelt. When I got the letter stating I had been accepted, it was the best moment of my life. Now, parked in front of the school with all of my belongings in the back seat, I felt like I was going to throw up. My mother reached out to smooth back my hair, for once I had bothered to straighten the rebellious curls, hoping a new look would make me blend in and appear much older than I was. I was eighteen years old and yet due to my impressive scores, I was enrolled din upper level classes.

“Me neither, my God Waverly Academy. I’m so proud of you,” my mother said as she leaned dover to kiss my cheeks. I ducked my head, though the comfort of having my mother by my side was something I would miss. For all of my life it had just been us two. My father left a yar after I was born and considering my mother got pregnant at fifteen, her parents had practically disowned her. “We should get you in, orientation starts in two hours.” Soon enough we were getting out of the parked car. There were a few other students like me, young and new to the school – though I knew that deep down they were nothing like me. I still had the same iPhone released two years ago with no plans on upgrading soon. Life wasn’t about material things, my mother used to say, it’s about what’s in your head and how to apply it. Funny how this message always came up the minute I asked for a new pair of jeans.

That wouldn’t be a problem here at Waverly, where everyone was expected to wear a uniform. Mine still sat untouched in the plastic wrap, carefully placed onto of my other clothes inside ,my suitcase. Bringing one suitcase was not just by choice, I didn’t have that many items to begin with. Mom walked me toward the door, before pausing and looking toward me.
“This is it,” she said, tears already forming in her eyes. I gave a small smile.
“You do know you can visit on the weekends. It’s not forever,” I said with a chuckle, though I could feel the scratchiness at the back of my throat indicating I was ready to cry myself. My mother drew me int a hug and I couldn’t help but close my eyes, holding tightly to her and inhaling her scent.

“Be good,” she said as she pulled away, wiping the tears from her cheek. She kissed my forehead.
“Always,” I replied before taking hold of my suitcase and going through the tall mahogany doors.
mikayla / kshahidx / 6d ago

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