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The sky was grey. So were the streets, paved stones covered in puddles from the rain the night before. The exhaust fumes were grey and the concrete buildings too. Greyest of all was the particular occasion - yes, after weeks and weeks of doing absolutely nothing in particular, the students of Harbour Academy for Gifted Adolescents & Youths would have to return to their desks for yet another semester. The building was small, but it was vast compared to the very few students attending it. There were never more than thirty people in each year. To begin with, attending the school was incredibly demanding. Hefty tuitions only subsidised by excelling in academics or arts - and even then, it was still expensive. Attending Harbour Academy was a luxury few could afford. Very, very few.

There was still some time until the school bell rang. Even so, it seemed like most of the students had already arrived in school, chatting idly while they still could. There was an awful lot to catch up on, and not nearly enough time. The instant that classes started again, it was work, work, work until four in the afternoon. That was, of course, disregarding the obscene amount of extra-curriculars that the students often had. That was the price of attending the prestigious Harbour Academy. On top of tens of thousands of dollars, of course.

The class of 2022 was passing the time in the yard, arranged in small groups across several picnic tables. There were even less than there had been the year before. They'd began their sophomore year with seventeen people. Only thirteen of these people had stayed another year. It wasn't unusual at Harbour Academy. At the end of the year, students had to take even more exams to determine their tuition fees for the next year. All it took was one bad day and suddenly you were paying thousands more than the year before. It was often better to accept the shame and just transfer. At the same time, students tended to join at the start of the year too.

[color=FFCFC0]"Are we getting three more this year?"[/color] Ella Weider asked. She traced the patterns of her water bottle, staring at it intently.

[color=FFCFC0]"Hmm? Yeah, but one of them is an exchange student,"[/color] came the reply from across the table. Emma Tailler, skimming through a textbook less than an hour before her lesson started. She'd planned to flip through the whole thing before school had started, but she didn't think she could at that rate. [color=FFCFC0]"Axel, right? Then one of the other ones is the daughter of that musician. Andrew Pinkerton. And the other one, damn. Can't remember."[/color]

Ella laughed. [color=FFCFC0]"Don't worry, we'll find out soon enough. Anyway, that doesn't matter. A little birdie told me you have a [i]date[/i] this weekend. Em, you gotta tell me..."[/color]

Emma's spluttering was quickly covered up by the splitting screech of the school bell. Her saviour. Red-faced, she rushed to her homeroom, while Ella quickly walked after her, laughing heartily. The rest of the class soon followed, taking their time to savour the time they had left.

There were already three people in the classroom as people began to file in. Their teacher, Mr Spelwel - the same as last year, an overly enthusiastic English teacher. Then, two new students. The chatting began to settle down as people began claiming their seats. There was sort of an unofficial seating plan with the old students. Since they had so many lessons all together, it didn't take long until everyone had their 'designated' place. Spelwel clapped his hands together, grinning brightly. Silence fell over the class.

[color=FFCFC0]"Alright, everyone! As you know, three new victim- er, students will be joining us this year! Unfortunately, our exchange student won't be in class until next week, but at least we have these two!"[/color] He gave them both a thump on the back. One of them, a blonde girl, grimaced at the contact. [color=FFCFC0]"Right, why don't you introduce yourselves? Give us your name and... a fact about yourself! You know, icebreakers. Then we'll go around the class and everyone else can do them."[/color]

The blonde girl flipped her hair and opened her mouth, about to speak. Then she hesitated, suddenly becoming bashful. [color=FFCFC0]"Porche. Porche Pinkerton. Um, it's nice to meet you all. I'm... a vegetarian." [/color]She dipped her head in some sort of greeting. 

It was enough for Spelwel. [color=FFCFC0]"Fantastic! You next,"[/color] he said, placing his hand on the other student's shoulder with considerable force. [color=FFCFC0]"Come on, don't be shy!"[/color]