Chapitre 2: The School Bullies

"Move now, will you?" yelled the bald-headed security guard, snapping Olive out of her whirlpool of thoughts.

She blinked, quickly grasping the handle of her large travel bag, dragging it along the ground while balancing the other bags in her free hand. Her heart felt heavy, her expression betraying the sadness and despair she tried so hard to conceal. The overwhelming feeling of being out of place, pretending to be someone she wasn't, tugged at her chest.

"I wonder if such a frail boy will survive even a term in the dorm," one of the guards muttered behind her.

"Don't worry, he'll adjust soon enough," the other guard reassured, though his tone was more condescending than comforting.

Olive's steps slowed. She could still hear them whispering. 'Why are they doubting me already?' she thought, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. She resisted the urge to turn around and confront them—no, 'Arthur' wouldn't do that. She needed to stay under the radar, to appear calm and collected. And so, with her chin raised, she pressed on, though their words gnawed at her.

After walking for several minutes, Olive found herself standing before the imposing structure of Belmont High School. The building loomed above her like a cathedral of wealth and privilege. The vast courtyard was eerily quiet, with no students in sight. Her pulse quickened. How was she supposed to find the principal's office if there was no one around to ask?

"They must all be in class," she muttered, her voice low. "I'll just find it myself. It can't be that hard."

She was about to take her first step up the marble staircase when a noise stopped her cold.

"Groan..."

Bang!

Another groan echoed across the courtyard, followed by more shuffling sounds coming from the left side of the school compound.

Olive froze, her heart beating faster. She didn't want to overreact, but there was no mistaking the sound. Someone was in pain. Her mind raced. 'Is someone being beaten?' she wondered, her grip tightening around her bags. She glanced around, no one in sight.

Her body moved before her mind could catch up. Dropping her luggage without a second thought, she slipped toward the direction of the sound, her eyes scanning for any sign of what was happening.

______

At the back of the school, in a hidden, underground area, Olive came upon a scene that made her blood run cold. A boy, his black hair matted with sweat and streaks of blood, was tied to a chair. His white uniform was stained red, bruises forming across his face and body.

Surrounding him were five other boys, dressed in the school's crisp white shirts and green trousers. They formed a semicircle, blocking the black-haired boy from escaping. From Olive's vantage point, she couldn't see their faces yet, but it didn't matter. The message was clear: this was a brutal display of dominance.

'Is this what the security guards meant when they doubted I could last a term? Does this school accept bullying on this level?' Olive's mind raced, her eyes narrowing in disgust. 'This is insane.' Her hands trembled as she pulled out her phone, quickly setting it to video mode. If she couldn't intervene, she could at least collect evidence.

"Tell me, why would you even think of messing with me?" A deep, commanding voice cut through the tension. One of the boys, standing with a straight-backed authority, spoke with chilling calm. His long, braided blonde hair swung slightly as he tilted his head. "I told you to clean the toilets for the whole term. You didn't. Why?"

"I was sick," the boy in the chair groaned, wincing as he spoke. His voice was weak, pleading. "I wasn't in school… I just got back. Please, forgive me this time."

"Oh, really? How convenient," the blonde boy mocked, a cruel smirk tugging at his lips. He turned slightly, revealing his face to Olive for the first time.

Her heart skipped a beat. He was striking dangerously so. His sharp jawline, piercing green eyes, and perfectly sculpted features were the very definition of a 'bad boy.' His skin was pale, nearly porcelain, with piercings glinting from his ears, nose, and tongue. A tattoo snaked up his arm, visible beneath the rolled-up sleeve of his shirt as well as his neck. 'Of course, the handsome ones are always the most twisted' Olive thought bitterly. But his looks didn't matter. Right now, he was a monster.

Her grip on her phone tightened as she captured the scene. She couldn't afford to miss anything. 'If I can't take them down myself, at least I can expose them for the bullies they are.'

The blonde boy's voice dropped an octave, cold and menacing. "Now, you'll receive your punishment. Beat him."

At his command, the other four boys sprang into action, wielding sticks like extensions of their fists. The black-haired boy cried out, his body jerking as blows rained down on him, each hit more vicious than the last. Blood splattered against the floor, his pained groans filling the underground space.

Olive's stomach churned, a mix of fear and anger swirling inside her. But she couldn't reveal herself now. She slipped away, moving quickly and quietly, her heart pounding as she made her way back to the front of the school.

_____

Her luggage lay untouched where she had left it. Grabbing the handle again, she forced herself to breathe slowly, shaking off the tremors that ran through her. She couldn't afford to be rattled, not now. Not when she was supposed to be Arthur, the boy with everything under control.

As Olive entered the main building, she found herself in a grand hallway, its walls lined with polished wood paneling and floors made of smooth marble. Everything about Belmont screamed wealth. The lockers were painted a vivid green, each one bearing a nameplate. Trophies and awards, proudly displayed in glass cases, reflected years of the school's excellence.

Olive's gaze wandered to the grand staircase ahead, wondering if it led to the classrooms or perhaps to the principal's office. The stillness of the place unnerved her. Not a soul stirred. It felt as though the entire school was holding its breath.

That was when she saw her a young woman with long black hair, dressed in a professional-looking skirt and blouse, carrying a stack of books. Olive hurried over, dropping her bags on the tiled floor with a soft thud.

"Good morning, ma'am. I'm Arthur, the scholarship winner," Olive said, trying to sound both polite and confident. "I was starting to wonder if there was anyone else here. Let me help you with those books."

The woman smiled, her face softening. "So, you're Arthur. You must be new," she said, handing over some of the books. "The students are in the cafeteria. How come you're so late? Didn't think you'd want to miss your first day."

Olive forced a small smile, the weight of the morning heavy on her. "I'm very interested in attending, ma'am. I just got a little lost finding the principal's office."

The woman chuckled warmly. "Well, you've found her," she said with a playful grin. "I'm Miss Aimee, the principal. Let's head to my office."