Page 15 of The Bleak Beginning

“It was a clumsy misstep, I’m afraid.” Sylvester interjects, trying to appear sympathetic. “She has the legs of ashortnewborn giraffe.”

I bristle at Sylvester’s description, but bite my tongue. Now is not the time to defend my coordination. I was tripped, after all. Professor O’Donnelly’s shrewd gaze sweeps over me once more, her lips pursed in disapproval.

“Well, there’s nothing to be done about it now,” she says with a resigned sigh. “Come along, all of you. We’re already late.”

I try to refuse, but my objections are drowned out by the noise of people shuffling and chatting in the distance. She guides me closer to the entrance of the assembly hall.

“You won’t need this with you on stage,” Bishop argues, deftly removing my forgotten satchel from my shoulder before I can protest.

“Maxwell better not blame me for this,” O’Donnelly mutters, cursing under her breath as she continues to pull me along.

Just as we reach the entrance, the doors slide open, and I make one last attempt to turn back before being shoved inside. The doors close behind me with a resounding click, leaving me trapped.

“…tonight, we are honored to welcome back another Legacy family. With their return, all four founding families are now enrolled in a single grade level for the first time in decades…”

My hand clenches into a fist as I hear Chancellor Maxwell’s voice over the loudspeaker. But I’m not paying attention; myfocus is on finding a way out of here. The dim lighting in the assembly room offers some cover for my appearance.

I scan the room frantically, looking for an escape route. The assembly hall is packed with students and faculty, all dressed in their finest attire. The contrast between their polished appearance and my mud-caked mess is painfully obvious.

Chancellor Maxwell’s voice drones on, but the words are just a buzz in my ears. The blood in my veins thins as I spot a side door near the stage. If I can just slip out unnoticed…

I take a tentative step forward, trying to blend into the shadows along the wall. Suddenly, a hand grips my arm, stopping me in my tracks. I turn to see Bishop, his face a mask of false concern.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he breathes into my ear, the heat of his words making my skin tingle. “You wouldn’t want to miss your big moment, would you?”

Before I can respond, Chancellor Maxwell’s voice cuts through the hall. “I ask all of you students to warmly welcome the newest member of our Altair University family. It is my honor to introduce you to Alexandra Prescott.”

The darkness of the assembly hall is suddenly shattered by a blinding light emitting an intense, white glow that engulfs me in its spotlight.

I blink rapidly, trying to adjust my eyes to the sudden brightness.

The single spotlight stands out against the dark shadows, illuminating me in sharp, very muddy detail.

A collective gasp ripples through the crowd as they take in my disheveled appearance. Whispers and murmurs grow louder, filling the hall with a rising tide of shock and curiosity. I stand frozen, caught between fight and flight, as hundreds of eyes bore into me. I can feel their stares burning into my skin, taking inevery detail. The mud caking my clothes and hair suddenly feels like a second, suffocating skin.

Chancellor Maxwell’s voice falters for a moment before she regains her composure. “Miss Prescott, if you would please join me up on the stage,” she says, her tone a forced blend of warmth and authority.

My legs feel like lead as Bishop gives me a not-so-gentle push forward. I stumble, nearly falling flat on my face in front of everyone. Somehow, I manage to right myself and take a few shaky steps toward the stage.

The walk seems to stretch on for an eternity. Each step is a battle against my own body’s desire to flee. I can hear whispers and muffled laughter rippling through the crowd. My cheeks burn with humiliation.

As I approach the base of the stage, I notice a young woman with chestnut hair sitting at the beginning of the first row. Her face is twisted in disgust and she’s holding her nose. Her body shakes slightly, as if she’s trying to suppress her reaction to something before she speaks. “Ugh, I thought we were supposed to get a warning for flash floods!” Her words echo through the quiet space.

The audience erupts into laughter, and I feel my face burning even hotter. I want to disappear, to melt into the floor and vanish from this nightmare. But there’s nowhere to go. The spotlight follows me, a merciless beacon exposing every speck of mud.

As I climb the steps to the stage, I catch sight of Chancellor Maxwell’s face. Her smile is fixed and tight, her eyes darting between me and the audience. She’s clearly trying to salvage this situation, but I can see the panic behind her polished exterior.

“Miss Prescott,” she says, extending a hand toward me. I notice she’s careful not to actually touch me as she guides me tothe center of the stage. “Welcome to Altair University. We’re…delighted to have you join us.”

The pause in her words is almost imperceptible, but it’s there. I can practically hear the thoughts racing through her mind.

I force a smile, my lips trembling as I try to maintain some semblance of composure. The spotlight feels like it’s burning through my skin, exposing every flaw, every insecurity. I open my mouth to speak, but my voice catches in my throat. The silence stretches on, becoming almost tangible in its awkwardness.

Chancellor Maxwell clears her throat, a sound that seems to echo through the hall. “Perhaps,” she says, her voice strained, “you would like to say a few words to explain your…unique arrival.”

A loud squelching sound echoes through the hall as I shift my weight. I look down in horror to see a puddle of muddy water forming around my feet, seeping out of my soaked shoes and clothes and hitting the stage floor.

The laughter starts again, louder this time. Even some of the faculty members off to the side of the stage are struggling to maintain their composure.

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