*Author's Note: For those of you who live in England, if I mess something up, then please forgive me. I live in America, and I got most of my info from Google, so if you see some inconsistencies in my writing, then please let me know. Oh, and the Prologue was 17 years prior to this chapter. Thank you, and I hope you'll like this!
The entire classroom grew silent as the new teenage girl walked in. Of course, they all knew who she was. Everyone did at this point. But it was still quite a surprise to see her in person.
The young lady had long locks of coal-inspired black hair, bringing out the paleness of her skin more than usual. She wore the standard female school uniform, which was a three-quarter sleeved baby blue shirt with the dark blue and yellow crest sewn onto the upper right corner of the shirt. The outfit was completed with a khaki skirt that reached just a bit below her knees.
But it was her eyes that stood out the most.
Sharp, intelligent, and the incredibly unique eye color of grey, Skylar Holmes equally met the wide-eyed stares of her peers.
The rumors were true. The daughter of the famous detective was actually going to attend Blackwood High School. Skylar looked around the surprisingly small classroom once more before finding an open seat in the back right next to a window.
The room looked like what a college classroom would look like, but it was smaller and wasn’t quite as modern, having the looks and feel of a medieval castle’s dungeon.
The entire school was in Cornwall England and was one of the larger buildings to have been created. Even though its size is the main reason it stood out, it was also the architecture of the immense structure. The school was indeed a castle and is still considered one.
It was known as one of the four chief Norman castles of Cornwall, also called the Restormel Castle. Its circular shape is what makes the fascinating castle so unique.
But as the years went by, it was transformed into a private school, changing the name to Blackwood High School. The inside of the former castle is quite cavernous, the cafeteria even having a crystal chandelier to brighten up the usually gloomy halls.
To any new student, they would have been in awe to even have entered the front doors of the school, let alone roam the entire place.
But not Skylar. At the age she was now (which was 17), nothing seemed to interest her. In many ways, she was just like her father, Sherlock Holmes. Always bored by the world, seemingly always surrounded by idiots.
This was the 3rd school she’d been in in the past 4 years she’d been in what Americans called high school. This is what separated Blackwood High from other English schools. They went by American terms instead of the terms that their own country went by.
Blackwood was a very private international school for both the very rich and the very intelligent. The only way to get in was to buy your way through or have an IQ higher than the average doctor or lawyer.
Rarely has a student been bright enough to get into the school just by their smarts. Around 90% of the teenagers attending came from rich families. Those who were witty enough, however, were bullied too much to even stay two weeks there.
Skylar would make sure that that wouldn’t happen to her. She was fully aware that people kept glancing her direction and whispering amongst each other. The teacher, Mr. Morocco, cleared his throat to get the class’s attention.
“Alright everyone, I know that we have a new student, but please focus back up here,” he said in a strong voice with perfect English but tinted with a slight accent.
In just that one sentence, Skylar deduced most things about her new teacher. He was in his early thirties, his parents were Russian, he was still single, he was living by himself, and Skylar felt with a minor pang of sympathy, had very little to no friends.
He wore a tan suit with a red tie and darker brown slacks, matching with his curly dark brown hair. He had green eyes, but that was hidden by his almost perfectly circular glasses. When he saw that he had regained his students’ attention, he turned back to the old-fashioned blackboard and resumed his lecture.
“Now, as I was saying before, the American Revolution was a very crucial turning point for that country, possibly the world…”
Skylar, having already memorized everything about the American Revolution, tuned him out and stared out the window. She already knew that the entire school would be reviewing what they’ve learned throughout the years from when they were 11 years old, to now.
Skylar learned all of this when she was 10.
“...and can anybody tell me what happened on July 4th, 1776? Ms. Harrow?”
Skylar gave a quick glance at the girl next to her, who was raising her hand high in the air. She had dark skin, almost like it was tanned, but not quite. She had long dark brown hair that was put up into a fishtail braid. She looked like she might have come from a place like Cairo, Egypt, and the way she spoke proved Skylar right.
The detective’s daughter could already tell that the only reason that she was even in this class was because her parents were rich, not because she was all that intelligent.
“It was the day that America won the war against Britain,” she said, her voice strong with confidence. Skylar gave a small snort of amusement, earning a glare from Harrow.
“Ms. Holmes?” Morocco said. “Do you have a better answer than what Sabrina said?”
“I do, actually,” Skylar said, struggling to keep herself from yawning.
“Then please share with the class what you think happened in the Americas on July 4th.”
Skylar nodded. “Saying that America gained freedom from British rule in 1776 is a false fact that any young child would say.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Skylar saw Sabrina’s nostrils flare with annoyance.
“July 4th was when the Declaration of Independence was adopted and when America declared their independence, which was the beginning of the Revolution," Skylar went on. "The actual war ended in 1783.”
Morocco nodded his head, a look of approval shone in his eyes.
“Very well said, Ms. Holmes. I’m glad that at least one student pays attention in this class.” He looked at various students across the room, who were all glaring at Skylar at this point.
“Freak,” Sabrina muttered under her breath, earning a few snickers from the two girls right next to her. Probably her henchmen.
Skylar suppressed both a sigh and a smirk as she looked back out the window again. It was like this in every new school she went into. She wasn’t the brainiac, the smart one, the clever one, or even the teacher’s pet.
She was the loser, the sociopath, the psychopath sometimes. But there was only one word that always seemed to follow her, like a permanent name tag, the same taunting nickname that haunted her father too.
If you guys liked this chapter, then chapter 2 will be out soon! Have a great day/night, everyone! - Artemis