章 7: Chapter 6

Dolores, clad in the inky black uniform, shuffled along with the tide of students into the cavernous assembly hall. Rows upon rows of black chairs stretched out before her, converging on a raised platform adorned with a gleaming podium. A low murmur buzzed through the room as students greeted each other, punctuated by the squeak of sneakers on the polished floor.

Dolores spotted Nadia and Chloe waving frantically from a cluster of seats near the center. With a relieved smile, she navigated the throng of students and plopped down beside them.

Just then, a hush fell over the room. A woman with a crisp, no-nonsense air strode onto the podium. Her sharp gaze scanned the hall, silencing the last whispers. Dressed in a severe black suit, she held herself with an air of authority that demanded respect.

"Good morning, students," she boomed, her voice amplified by a microphone. "Today, I stand before you brimming with excitement as we gear up for the most momentous event of the year: Founders Day!"

A ripple of excited chatter ran through the room, quickly quelled by a raised hand from the woman. "But before we delve into the festivities," she continued, "let's take a moment to reflect on the significance of this day."

She cleared her throat, her gaze sweeping over the expectant faces. "Founders Day," she declared, "is not just a celebration; it's a cornerstone of Grimstone's rich history. It's a day where we pay homage to the visionary founders who dared to dream, who laid the very foundation upon which this esteemed institution stands."

Dolores felt a tingle of anticipation course through her. She'd heard about Founders Day and how it was thrown, about its prestigious exhibits and renowned guests, but the details had remained shrouded in mystery. Today, she was finally going to get the inside scoop.

"This year," the woman continued, her voice gaining momentum, "we celebrate not only the founders' legacy, but also the spirit of innovation that continues to define Grimstone. We are a school that fosters intellectual curiosity, encourages groundbreaking ideas, and empowers our students to become the architects of tomorrow."

A slideshow flickered to life behind the podium, showcasing images of past Founders Day celebrations. Students in period costumes, elaborate displays filled with historical artifacts, and distinguished-looking guests mingling amongst them – it all seemed like a scene from another world.

"This year's theme," the woman announced, a hint of a smile playing on her lips, "is 'Unearthing the Past, Shaping the Future.' Your task, students, is to choose a pivotal moment from Grimstone's history and bring it to life. Through captivating exhibits, interactive displays, or even theatrical performances, you have the opportunity to showcase your knowledge, creativity, and most importantly, your school spirit!"

Dolores felt a surge of energy course through her. As the woman elaborated on the project guidelines, deadlines, and expectations, Dolores glanced at Nadia and Chloe, their faces mirroring her own excitement.

The woman's voice finally trailed off, her gaze sweeping across the student body. An electric silence hung in the air. Some students buzzed with excitement, their faces alight with ideas for the Founders Day project. Others, however, seemed less enthusiastic, boredom etched on their features. Dolores noticed a handful of students with blank expressions, seemingly lost in their own thoughts.

The woman cleared her throat, a playful glint in her eye. "Before we continue," she announced, "I have a question for all of you. It's a simple one, a reminder of the very foundation upon which Grimstone stands." She paused, letting the suspense build. "Can anyone tell me the names of the Founding Fathers?"

Dolores, a flicker of amusement crossing her face, scoffed internally. The Founding Fathers? Really? That information was practically engraved in her brain, plastered on every page of the hefty school rulebook, written on every board you can ever find in the hallways. It seemed an almost comical question, yet as she glanced around the room, a wave of surprise washed over her.

Not a single hand went up. No one, not a single soul, volunteered the answer. A hush fell over the assembly hall, broken only by the nervous coughs and shuffling of feet. Dolores couldn't believe it. Were they serious? This was basic Grimstone history, the bedrock upon which their entire school was built!

The woman's sigh echoed through the hall, a heavy weight settling in the sudden silence. Her gaze landed on the front row, where a student sprawled lazily in his chair.

"Mr. Vynce," Ms. Davies addressed him, her voice a steely mix of amusement and exasperation, "perhaps you could enlighten us? Can you tell your fellow students the names of Grimstone's Founding Fathers?"

Dolores craned her neck, straining to see over the sea of heads. All she could glimpse of this Mr. Vynce was a broad back and his unruly black hair. He seemed more interested in propping himself up on the armrest than participating in the assembly.

Beside him, another figure lounged in his chair, one arm casually draped around his shoulders. This student, with brown hair, leaned his head in conspiratorially.

A low murmur, laced with laughter, emanated from the front. Dolores recognized the snickers – the mark of a brewing prank. Her stomach churned with a mix of annoyance and apprehension.

The other student finally spoke, his voice laced with a drawl. "Founding Fathers, huh? Sounds like a bunch of stuffy old dudes in powdered wigs." A ripple of laughter erupted through the hall, breaking the tension. The woman's face contorted into a mask of disapproval, her glare cutting a swathe through the room.

Undeterred, the guy finally spoke. "Maybe they called them something cooler, like… the Mystery Men? Or the Inventors of Boredom?" Another wave of laughter crashed over the students, some even slapping their knees in amusement.

Dolores gaped, her jaw practically hitting the floor. Was this guy serious? Didn't they have any respect for the history of their own school? She, a newcomer, could practically recite the Founding Fathers' names in her sleep, and these seniors were making jokes about them? Glancing towards Nadia and Chloe, Dolores saw only blank stares reflecting her own disbelief.

This was worse than she imagined. Not only was there a lack of knowledge, but a complete disregard for the very essence of Grimstone.

The woman's voice echoed through the silent hall, her repeated question carrying a note of resignation. "Anyone else? Anyone at all?"

Just as it seemed the moment would stretch on forever, a hand shot up from the sea of black uniforms. It was Dolores, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. A collective gasp rippled through the room, all eyes turning towards her, some curious, some disbelieving, and Chloe's gaze held a clear warning.

The woman, a flicker of surprise flitting across her face, leaned towards the microphone. "Would you like to try, Miss...?" She trailed off, realization dawning on her.

"Torres," Dolores supplied, her voice surprisingly steady considering the weight of a hundred stares. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and launched into a confident recitation.

"The Founding Fathers of Grimstone," she announced, her voice ringing out in the vast hall, "were a distinguished group of eight gentlemen. First, we have Auguste Rutherford, a renowned scholar with a passion for classical education." She continued, listing each founder in turn, weaving in a brief description of their contribution to the school's legacy.

"Cassius Blackwood, a visionary architect who designed the very building we stand in today."

" Maximilian Vynce a philanthropist whose generous endowment laid the foundation for Grimstone's esteemed library."

The list went on – Orion Wellington,the pioneering scientist; Silas Pembroke, the champion of the arts; Julian Stirling, the advocate for social justice; Cedric Fairfax, the defender of academic freedom; and finally, Godfrey Kingsley, the charismatic leader who united them all.

With each name, a hush fell over the room. The initial wave of surprise slowly morphed into something else – a spark of curiosity, a flicker of interest. Dolores could practically feel the shift in the atmosphere, the students leaning in, their eyes glued to her.

As she finished the last name, a stunned silence descended upon the hall. Then, the woman's voice, filled with genuine warmth, broke the spell.

"That's… that's quite impressive, Miss Torres," she said, a smile gracing her lips. "Good. Very good indeed."

Dolores felt a wave of relief wash over her, a surge of pride warming her cheeks. She had done it. She had not only answered the question but had, she hoped, sparked a flicker of interest in the history of Grimstone. Maybe, just maybe, she had made a good impression, not just on the woman, but on her school mates as well.

Dolores' gaze dropped like a stone to the front seat. There the guy sat perched. His head was tilted back, his blue eyes fixed on her in an intense stare. Even from the side profile, he was undeniably attractive, but there was something familiar about him, he looked familiar.

Dolores, unable to hold back, offered a small smile, a silent acknowledgement of his gaze. Maybe it was a victory smirk, a subtle way of saying she recited what he couldn't. But instead of a returning smile, his stare intensified, almost bordering on a glare.

Confused and slightly flustered, Dolores sank into her own seat. Barely a moment later, Chloe and Nadia leaned in, their faces etched with concern. Chloe spoke first, her voice laced with warning, "Dolores, what did you do?"

Dolores threw her hands up defensively, a bewildered expression crossing her face. "What? I just... answered the question," she stammered.

Chloe nudged Dolores' hand, her eyes flicking towards the front row where the mysterious boy sat. His head had finally turned back to face the woman at the podium, but the tension in the air remained.

"Do you even know who that is?" Chloe pressed, her voice barely a whisper. "Do you know who that is? That's Axel Vynce. Does the Vynce name ring any bells?"

Dolores squirmed under the sudden weight of a hundred unseen eyes. The whispers seemed to crescendo around her, a tangible wave of curiosity and judgement. The name "Vynce" clanged loudly in her head. It wasn't just familiar, it was practically a landmark in their city. Billboards adorned the city with the Vynce family crest, a constant reminder of their immense wealth and influence. It was an open secret that the Vynces practically owned half the city, and the unofficial rumour was they had their hands in the other half too.

"So, he's rich," Dolores muttered, trying to downplay the situation. Maybe he was just a descendant of one of those founders she'd just recited .

Chloe snorted. "Rich? Honey, that's an understatement. Maximilian Vynce, his great-grandfather, practically built this school. He basically owns the place."

Dolores scoffed. "His great-grandfather being a founding father doesn't mean he owns the school."

A frown creased her forehead. Why wouldn't Axel know the founders' names if his great-granddad was one of them? It was a bizarre disconnect.

Chloe leaned in further, her voice barely above a whisper that danced over the teacher's monotone drone. "Dolores, you just defied a Vynce in public. Don't you get it?"

Dolores rolled her eyes. "What is he, a god?"

Nadia, usually the quiet observer, chimed in with a humorously dry tone. " He is, well, not literally," she conceded, "but in Grimstone Institute? With those looks and his family history. He might as well be. He's practically worshipped here."

Dolores' jaw clenched. Chloe's teasing tone did little to calm her nerves. Muttering under her breath, she retorted, "He wouldn't kill me. It's not like I stole his crown or something. He can't possibly be that petty over a simple question."

Chloe chimed in, "Dolores, underestimating a Vynce is a recipe for disaster. They might not physically harm you, but trust me, they have ways to make your life miserable. He could turn the entire school against you with a single word."

Dolores felt a cold dread creep into her stomach. The carefree confidence she felt moments ago had vanished, replaced by a gnawing anxiety. She stole another glance at him in the front row. His posture remained rigid.

Nadia, the voice of reason,. "Calm down, Chloe. He probably doesn't even care that much."

Dolores exchanged a worried glance with Chloe and Nadia. She glanced at him, what was the worst he could do, even if he decides to make her life in Grimstone miserable, she wasn't going down without a fight.