Chapter 2 Welcome to Elite

**Eric's POV***

It was Monday morning, the day I was set to start at my new school. With my mom's help, I had arranged all my documents, and happiness was evident on my face.

I was sitting on the couch in our living room, waiting for my mom, who wanted to accompany me to my new school. A few minutes later, she finished getting ready, and we left for the school together.

My eyes beheld the beauty of the school-the students arriving in luxurious cars, the gigantic field alive with birds, and the teachers looking sharp in their corporate attire.

"Wow," I whispered. The playground shimmered with brightly colored equipment-swings, monkey bars, climbing frames-it was like something out of a dream.

This school was truly elite. The buildings soared high, the students looked smart and well-dressed. I stood at one end with my hands on my hips, waiting for my mom.

"Eric, we can go inside now," my mom called, and I followed her to the director's office to submit my documents.

A few minutes later, a teacher accompanied me to my new classroom. I was introduced to the class.

Heat rushed to my cheeks-I looked so different. My clothes were shabby, and I felt out of place. I quickly walked to the seat the teacher pointed to.

"Hello, welcome to our school. Hope you're strong enough to handle what's coming," a girl beside me said.

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.

"Oh, don't worry. You'll understand soon. I'm Clara, by the way."

"I'm Eric Morgan," I replied quietly and looked away.

Despite the awkward introduction, my first day at Elite Private High School was exciting. I loved the atmosphere, the discipline, the classes, and even the food. Yes, the school provided lunch.

By the next week, I was slowly settling in-making a few friends and getting used to the culture of wealth and formality.

It was Monday morning, and I left the house by 6:45 a.m. as usual. With my bag in hand, I boarded a taxi.

Getting to school, students were already arriving, and the bright colors of their uniforms painted a beautiful picture across the school grounds.

"Hey Eric!" a familiar voice called.

It was Ethan.

"Hey Ethan, how are you?"

"I'm good. What are you doing out here all alone?"

"I'm just admiring the school I feel privileged to attend."

"We gotta move, man," Ethan smiled as we walked in.

Ethan was one of the few people I connected with-also a scholarship student. His parents weren't wealthy, but they lived decently. He was seventeen, a year older than me.

As we walked down the hallway to our classroom, a group of older students blocked our path.

"Where do you think you're going?" one said, his tone mocking.

Startled, Ethan responded, "To our classroom."

I stayed silent, observing the trio. One of them stood out-confident, with a swagger that made it seem like the ground itself worshiped him.

"Hey, don't you know how to greet?" he said, clearly addressing me.

"Good morning. Please, we'd like to get to class," I said, trying to keep calm.

"Do you know who you're talking to?" another stepped forward, his voice more hostile.

"Sorry, seniors," Ethan quickly added. "He's new and doesn't know you yet."

One of them gave me a strange look. "Why do you seem... different?"

I looked down, embarrassed, and pulled Ethan away quickly.

Back in the classroom, Ethan explained who they were-Carter, Oliver, and Caleb-the school's notorious trio from extremely powerful families. Ethan warned me that they rarely let go of slights and that I needed to avoid them.

"I don't care who they are," I replied carelessly. "They're just students like us."

"They're more than that, Eric. Their families fund half of the school's activities. Just... stay clear."

Later during lunch break, I made my way to the cafeteria. On my way, I ran into them again.

"I guess you didn't learn from this morning," said Oliver, smirking.

"I don't think he realizes how things work around here," Caleb added.

I stood quietly, remembering Ethan's advice not to say anything.

Carter finally spoke, stepping forward. "My name is Carter. I run this place. So watch how you walk."

I glanced at him, then looked away with a small hiss of irritation.

He raised his hand, and just as he was about to speak again, a calm voice interrupted.

"What's going on here, Carter?"

It was Mr. Dante, our mathematics teacher-young, composed, and respected.

Carter and his friends backed off without a word and walked away.

"Eric Morgan," Mr. Dante said. "Come with me to my office."

I followed him. Inside, he gestured for me to sit.

"Eric, I know Carter very well. He's charming to teachers and excels in everything, but there's a side to him most don't see. You need to be careful. Avoid confrontation. If you see him, greet him and move on. Don't engage."

I was surprised by how much concern he showed me. It felt reassuring to have someone on my side.

Soon after, I returned to class just before the end of the lunch break. I stared into my book, lost in thought when Ethan came over.

"Why didn't you come to lunch?" he asked.

"I wasn't hungry," I lied.

He studied my face. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Ethan, please. I'm fine. Stop asking."

He nodded and walked back to his seat, clearly worried.

At dismissal, I waited outside for Ethan, my heart pounding. I had this feeling-this heaviness in my chest. Then I saw them-Carter and his friends-coming toward me again...