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Tara was alone heading to University on a train with a small bag filled with all of her earthly belongings. There was no one to see Tara off, no friends or family to say goodbye. Tara was alone.
The 18yearold was made an orphan when she was too young to remember. It wasn’t until she was 10 years old that she accepted that she was not going to be adopted. So, she bounced around from foster home to foster home, but none of that mattered to her now. She had gotten out.
Philip’s Gifted University was one of, if not the best University in the country. It was nearly impossible to get in, requiring perfect marks on all exams as well as additional exams made by the University themselves. But Tara had her brains. She may not have much in life, but her gift of the mind was something no one could take away.
After the train ride it was an hour’s walk to the University gates. It was a giant golden structure, built as if to keep out attackers. Bit excessive isn’t it? Tara thought. Those gates probably cost hundreds of thousands on their own.
Tara never knew what it was like to have money.
As she stepped into the main hall of the University it immediately hit Tara just how out of place she was. She saw dozens of girls, similar age to herself if not a little older, walking past, each with luxurious, shining hair and expensive dresses.
What’s with all the dresses? She thought. It was as if she had stepped back in time. It appeared that the fashion here was to wear incredible fancy dresses. Most were a different colour, some fitting each woman differently. Most of the women were tall or in high heels, all with done makeup, and all looking slim… well, nearly all.
And then there was Tara, standing 5 foot 4 inches with short brown hair due to its ease in maintaining, and wearing torn jeans and a buttoned white shirt. At least I’m as slim as these girls, she thought. Tara had always been a small and skinny girl, which she put to not having an abundance of food growing up.
In front of her was a reception where an older woman in a black pants suit sat. She must have been in her 40s, and she sported straight, long black hair and dark lipstick. Tara clutched at the straps of her backpack as she walked over.
“Hello?” The blackhaired women said.
“Erm, hi,” Tara replied, “I’m a freshman.”
“Oh, okay,” The woman said, her face giving a quizzical look. “This is the girl’s hall.”
Tara looked at her, and Tara’s face turned red as she pulled at her short hair that only just covered her ears.
“I, erm, I am a girl.” Tara whispered.
The blackhaired woman’s eyes shot open at the realisation of her insult. Tara was gut wrenched at being thought of as a boy, but it was no surprise being surrounded by women in long dresses.
“What’s your name?” The blackhaired woman said, quickly diverting from her comment about her being a boy.
“Tara Griffin.” The young girl replied as she kept her eyes down, fearful of anyone else spotting her and considering her a boy.
The blackhaired woman typed at her computer for a few seconds, scanned a plastic card, and handed it out to Tara.
“Here you go,” She said. “Room 201.”
“Tthank you.” Tara whispered before grabbing the card.
Keeping her head down, Tara rushed through the hallways. She couldn’t see if girls were staring at her, but she heard the occasional hushed comment and giggle obviously aimed at her direction.
Finding room 201, Tara scanned the card to unlock the door and stepped inside.
“Jesus.” Tara gasped at her room.
This is huge!!
This room that was just for her was bigger than most of the Foster family houses she had stayed in. There was a kitchen / living room with furniture already filling the room. To the right was a double sliding door which, when opened, revealed a large bedroom with a double bed.
On the left was the frosted glass door to the bathroom, which once again nearly stopped Tara’s heart. The bathroom could fit 5 Tara’s and the shower even more.
I could get used to this, Tara thought as a small smile appeared on the young girl’s face.
It took no longer than twenty minutes to unpack her items before planting herself down on the large, black sofa.
Oooh yeah, this is the life, she thought, everything I’ve been through, it was all finally worth it.
With nothing else to do, Tara pulled out the latest novel she was reading and carried on from her latest spot. The book was nearly 1000 pages long, and she was only halfway through.
For nearly two hours she sat there, reading comfortably in her own private kingdom when a strange, high pitched bell came from the door to her room.
Curious, Tara rose from her seat and walked towards the door only to find a small, black screen to the right of it. It beeped once more before letters began to appear.
“FRESHMAM INITIATION DINNER 5PM MAIN HALL”
The young girl’s heart began to beat faster. This is it, I’m going to have to meet other people. People that I will spend the next three years if not longer with! Oh god, okay, pull yourself together.
With one hour until the initiation dinner Tara ran into her oversized bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror.
I’m going to get killed if I go down looking like this, I’ve already had one woman mistake me for a boy!
She pulled at her hair.
Short brown hair, nothing I can do about the length, and then she saw a straightener that was connected into the wall, that should make it look a little longer.
Tara had never used hair straighteners before, however it took less than a minute or two for her to work them out. Ten minutes later she was done, and her hair looked just that little bit longer. The messy waves and frizzy parts were gone at least.
She looked at herself again. Tara had a defined face, a chiselled jawline, high cheeks bones, a small cute nose as well as fairly plump lips. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the most noticeable eye lashes, and her skin look pale compared to the other girls she saw.
I don’t have any make up, she sighed, how I look can’t be that important, right? I’m here to get an education, not fit in.
With nothing else that she could do with her facial features, Tara ran into her bedroom, opened the wardrobe, and looked at the handful of clothes she owned.
I know already that I don’t own any dresses, she thought, flicking through what she did have, this could work?
Tara pulled out a black pair of trousers and a white blouse. Neither were expensive, but they were her smart clothes should the occasion arise, and arisen it had.
She pulled off her baggy, buttoned shirt and threw off her ripped jeans as well as her boyish trainers. Underneath she wore a plane white bra and white knickers. They were all that covered her thin, pale, smooth body.
In a heartbeat she pulled up the trousers and put on the blouse before looking back in the mirror.
There we go, she thought and smiled at herself, this is smart. That blackhaired woman looked smart. Perfect!
With her worries slightly pushed aside, Tara brushed her perfectly white teeth, flossed them, and then headed for the dinner.
No longer dressed like a homeless boy, Tara walked through the corridors with more confidence, finding the ability to look into the eyes of other girls.
They’re all wearing dresses, she thought, her anxiety returning. Each one in a dress that fell to their feet. Some with slits down the side, revealing legs, some that were low cut and exposing cleavage. I can’t wear a lowcut top to show cleavage, there would be nothing to show!
The closer and closer she got to the main hall, the more her panic hit her. Just find a seat in the back, try and blend in.
The double doors opened in front of her, and Tara stopped when she looked inside. The main hall was as long as a cathedral, with long wooden tables and chairs going its entire length. It would be easy to fit a few hundred people in here… but to Tara’s dismay, there were no more than forty.
Some were chatting, some were looking forward to the stage at the end, and some, the ones Tara worried about, were looking at her.
Each one was a beautiful woman dressed in a beautiful dress.
It’s okay, Tara told herself as she stepped through the main hall, at least I don’t look like a boy. No one is going to care anyway.
The blackhaired woman appeared on the stage at the front with a clipboard.
“Everyone, please take your seats and listen.” She said.
The room fell deathly quiet, and Tara was the only one on her feet. Her face reddened again.
“Miss, please take a seat.” The blackhaired woman said.
Tara’s eyes darted around the room. It appeared there were already cliques being formed. Many of the women were staring at her, smiling in a humiliating fashion.
She jumped onto the seat next to her, a good ten feet away from the next girl, and just looked down.
“Okay,” The blackhaired woman said, “welcome, to Philip’s Gifted University.”
Suddenly the door to the hall burst open, and every eye in the hall turned to it. A brunettehaired girl with slightly chubby cheeks stood there. She wore a bright blue dress that was tight on top, amplifying her cleavage whereas the bottom was loose and frilly.
“Sorry I’m late, Miss!” The brunette shouted, clearly out of breath.
“We do not tolerate tardiness here.” The black woman replied.
“Won’t happen again.” The brunette said, and the blackhaired woman gave her a stern look.
Tara didn’t realise it, but suddenly the brunette girl was sat down next to her.
“Hey, I’m Samantha.” She whispered.
Tara’s eyes shot open, someone’s actually talking to me… and now?! Can’t this wait until the dinner is over?!
“Erm, Tara.” Tara whispered back.
“Silence please!” The blackhaired woman said.
Damn it!
“Now,” The woman on the stage continued, “today you are going to receive your lecture schedules, University equipment such as note books etcetera, and your map of the campus.”
Tara knew that the equipment was given to students at the school, which was a blessing for her. She was only allowed in due to actually getting a perfect score on their exam and given a scholarship. However, that did not equate to a lot of money, not enough to buy school equipment anyway.
“As I am sure many of you are aware, this is a gender separated University,” The blackhaired woman continued. “Yes, boys do go here, but they stay in the other buildings. Certain classes mix, but otherwise you will only see the boys at the biweekly dances.”
Biweekly dances? What?!
Tara began to feel as though she were in over her head. She came to study. Ideally, she hoped that other than lectures she could spend all her free time in her room. Now there were dances?!
“Your first meals at this University will be arriving shortly. Please take this time to get to know your year mates,” She continued. “Although again, I’m sure most of your families already know one another.”
The blackhaired lady stepped off the stage.
“Well, that was a waste of time.” Samantha laughed out next to her.
Tara glanced around the room. There were definitely already cliques formed, and she turned to the brunette who was smiling back at her.
“What did she mean, most of our families will know each other?” Tara asked.
“Oh,” Samantha replied, “most students here are legacy students, their families will have been coming here for years.”
It’s like its own society.
“Have yours?” Tara asked Samantha.
“My Mum did,” She replied, “but other than that it’s just me. I gather you’re the first in your family to come here?”
“What makes you say that?” Tara asked, taking offence to the assumption.
“Well, by your clothes, obviously no one had made you aware of the fashion at this school,” Samantha told her. “And you’re sat on your own, like me.”
Tara pulled at her black trousers, are my clothes that bad?
“Hey,” Samantha said, “I didn’t mean anything by it. I like your clothes, it’s just there is a way things are done here, and I could tell that you weren’t aware of them.”
“A way things are done?” Tara asked. “As in doing well in exams isn’t the way it’s done?”
“Not here,” Samantha told her. “This is a hierarchy in it’s worst form. If you’re on the out, then life is gonna be pretty hard. So my Mum says, anyway.”
“You don’t seem too worried about it?” Tara asked her.
“What can I say?” Samantha replied with a coy smile. “I’m only here because my Mum made me. I didn’t want to hang out with these bitches.”
Tara laughed at the other girl’s comment, at least I have one person I can speak to. Even if she isn’t bothered about not getting through.
“My Mum told me everything to expect,” Samantha divulged. “The cliques are being formed now. Soon the Queen Bee will take her place, and the servants will take what they can to get to her side.”
Queen Bee? Servants? Am I on a different planet?
“Well,” Tara replied and looked around the room at the groups that had already congregated, “I’ve never seen myself as much of a servant.”
She turned back to see Samantha smiling. Her full cheeks were actually kind of cute, and she had a few freckles along her nose.
“I think we’re going to get on pretty well.” Samantha said.
Tara was sat in the corner, legs crossed and fingering her dress against her thighs. She had gone to a shop a few days previously and bought this reasonably priced attire. It was a red dress, fairly tight on her slim frame and fell down to her feet. It had thin shoulder straps holding it up, exposing her arms.
Samantha appeared through the sea of students in the dance hall, and she smiled when she spotted Tara. The young woman stood up and began to walk over, nearly tripping on her dress that got caught between her legs.
How do girls wear these all the time? She thought, trousers are so much easier.
No one moved out of the way as she walked, and she had to barge through a few to make it to Samantha. The more plump girl was wearing a green, frilly dress that seemed to shine.
“Hey, how’s the dance going?” Samantha asked.
“Oh great,” Tara sarcastically replied. “I’ve been here for ten minutes and not killed myself, so there’s a win.”
Samantha chuckled in response as her eyes moved around the room. So far it was only women, but the boys would surely arrive shortly.
“Come on, let’s find ourselves a spot.” Samantha told her.
Nearly an hour later, the two girls sat at the side of the dance hall, chatting and watching the other girls, when a group of four arrived at their feet.
“Samantha.” The girl who was clearly the leader said. She had luxurious blonde hair, a slim frame but clearly a large cleavage shown off by her black dress.
“Rebecca.” Samantha said back, sternly.
“I see you found yourself a pet?” Rebecca said and darted her eyes at Tara.
Who is she calling a pet?
A spark of anger lit inside Tara. After going from multiple foster homes with different people, she had dealt with her fair share of bullies.
“I see you found a pet, as well,” Tara replied before Samantha could speak. “Oh, my apologies. It’s just your dress.”
Tara smirked at her comeback, but when she looked at Samanta, the plump girl shook her head subtly
Rebecca gave a glare that turned into an evil smile. Her dark red lipstick looked viciously threatening.
“The dog can speak,” Rebecca said. “Well, at least I didn’t buy my dress from a charity shop,” The three girls by her side laughed, “or did you simply pull it from a homeless woman?”
This dress cost more than all of my other clothes combined… Tara thought and felt herself sinking into the seat. As the four girls laughed, her face turned red, and she looked down, this dress isn’t that bad? Is it?
A tear formed in her eye and dropped down her pale cheek.
“You should consider who you spend time with,” Rebecca said to Samantha. “This ugly creature will only lower your already low standing.”
Before either girl could reply, the four bitches turned and walked away. Tara felt an urge to run back to her room and hide to cry her shame away in the sanctuary of privacy.
“That is Rebecca Thornton,” Samantha whispered. “She is not someone you should pick a fight with.”
Tara sniffled away another tear and wiped her wettened cheek.
“Who is she?” Tara whispered.
“Her family owns most of the realty in the country,” Samantha informed her, “so she can make your life miserable.”
No. I will not let someone bully me.
The first dance was a painful memory for Tara, one that she tried to forget, but Rebecca’s words, as few as they were, they cut her deep. Tara knew that her brains put her above most, but selfworth, as well as money, was something she could not compare to these women.
Back in her normal clothes of jeans and a baggy tshirt, she walked to her first ever lecture. In her hands were the books that the school had provided, and she was eager to forget about this social hierarchy for a while and just learn.
As she stepped into her first lecture, she realised how small it was. This school was so prestigious that each class only had 30 or so students.
Not all seats were taken, and Tara made her way to the front, clutching the books in her hands. As she went to sit down at a desk, suddenly the chair was pulled out from underneath her, and Tara’s backside slammed against the floor.
Owww! Tara moaned internally.
The room erupted into laughter, and Tara’s eyes moved across each chuckling face. Women, all in dresses. Not as fancy as they were for the dance but still very expensive. Shame engulfed Tara’s being as she pulled herself to her feet.
The girl behind her who pulled her seat back was one of the three that stood by Rebecca. She gave an evil glare at Tara who instantly backed down.
“Dogs go at the back.” The girl whispered.
At the back of the room there was a row of desks, each empty. With her head hung low, Tara made her way back there, and she settled on one desk as their professor arrived.
It very quickly became apparent that sitting at the back put her at a disadvantage. Every question that the teacher had was answered by students closer to the front. Tara was overlooked on many occasions, and even when she had a question, the teacher appeared to ignore her.
Even the professors are part of this stupid hierarchy!
When the lecture ended, Tara felt anger burning brighter inside her. Through the hallway she spotted Samantha in a dress and marched towards her.
“What is the deal with this place?” Tara asked, huffing with rage.
“What do you mean?” Samantha asked, her own notebooks in her hands.
“I was made to sit at the back of a lecture, and the teacher ignored me the entire time!” Tara argued.
“Ah, right,” Samantha said, not shocked at all. “Well, all students that leave this University go on to great things. They practically form a society of the top people in the country. The teachers are part of it. They only want the best to succeed and work to get rid of the weak. So, if the teacher sees that you’re not part of the hierarchy or too low down, they won’t lift a finger to help.”
I came here for an education! Not to be popular!
“Just because they can be mean to people doesn’t mean they’re better.” Tara argued.
“Unfortunately, it does,” Samantha replied, “being mean also means pushing people down and standing on their shoulders. This University is not just about being smart. Everyone here is a genius, so the way to differentiate who is going to succeed is by who rises to the top of the hierarchy.”
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