Novel & Cerita Classroom Of Elite

hours later. classes after classes occupy the rest of the day and the scariest thing about it is that the four elites surround us in every damn class, if another student sit next to us all they had to do was stand next to the table and the student will stand and crawl away, after what felt like hours of endless classes it was break time, Katty was nowhere to be found ,I walk faster and almost fall flat on my ass as my head hit something hard Ouch!!, Cole stands right at the entrance blocking it, he doesn't stare at me ,no .. doesn't even notice someone burged into him ,he's just staring ahead with anger and clenched fist

“Quick, look at Professor Swift’s eyes! He’s looking at Jack as if he’s his future son-in-law!” My classmates kept praising Jack Anderson, and Liam Swift, the professor standing behind the podium, was smiling ear to ear. He then concluded in satisfaction, “That’s good. You’re my best student, and you have a clear plan for your future, Jack. “God will definitely bless your marriage to—” “Wait!” I suddenly voiced out. Standing up before the entire class, I stared directly at Jack and smiled coldly. “Jack, what a coincidence. We have the same ideal type.

"You saw Xavier ask for time off, so now you're copying him? What is he, compared to you? He's lazy. He's a parasite. He's trash that even the dumpster wouldn't take. You're an elite I spent years shaping! "Tired, you say? Elites don't get tired. Elites should feel better the more they work. They should get more energized, not less." "Honey, tell me. What's our slogan?" she shouted. My body reacted instinctively. I snapped into a rigid stance and shouted back. "Good, better, and best. I'm the greatest!" Cassandra clapped, satisfied. "Good. Now, answer me. What are you going to do next?" Just then, the people nearby turned to stare.

Before we went for our college entrance exam, Flora Reid snuck a mini walkie-talkie into Theo Anderson’s bag. In the past, I had quickly rushed over to warn Theo about it. I reported it to the teachers too. Flora was banned from the examinations due to suspected cheating, and she was brought to the police station. Theo was very grateful toward me for saving him. Hence, he asked me to be his girlfriend. I thought the feeling had been mutual. On the day we filled out our college applications, he switched my Ivy League college to a regular community college. “You ruined Flora’s life, so I’m ruining your future. Do you really think you deserve to go to an Ivy League? “You should spe

‌ he adde‍d, v‍oice lowering, “which i⁠s kind of a b‍ig deal.” My⁠ stomach tightened. “Big how?” ‌Mi‌l‌es h‌e‍sitate‍d, then glanced toward the door like it might be listeni‌ng. “Dorm 3 is elite territory,” he said qu‍iet‍ly. “Mo‍st of the guys here are legacy stud‍ents. Old families, so‍ns o‍f donors and board memb⁠ers. People whose pa‌re‍nts have buildi‍ngs named after them.”

She began counting on her fingers as she explained: “We have the D-Class — those are the scholarship students. They’re very few, maybe three percent of the total population. Then comes the C-Class, the classic millionaires. Normally, their status wouldn’t grant them access here, but their parents could afford the tuition. Next is the B-Class — the multi-millionaires. They’re rich, but not rich enough to be considered part of the elite. After that, the A-Class — the billionaires, the true elites, sons and daughters of the world’s biggest fortunes. And finally, the S-Class — the ones who practically govern the world. They’re the children of the one percent, and there are only five of them in t

The Classy Elite dining hall boast of wealthy and how prestigious the private highschool is,with it's perfection and excellent standard in every aspect of the school, that why it rated first and the best in USA as a whole. The students sat down in pairs and clique as they ate and chatted happily. Jace and his friends move to their high-table at the corner of the hall ,where the students believe that the seats belong to the high-monarch and highest class in school like Ian Grayson and his friends are the only ones could only sit there. " Hey Jace what with the sullen look. We just won the match so cheer up man ! ,Just forget whatever that is bothering you" a brownette guy said,his bimbo pe

Classmates? I stared at Jenna Newson's face, my girlfriend of eight years, trying to find even a trace of joking in her expression. But there was nothing. She was serious, and... calm. I forced the corners of my mouth into something resembling a smile. The words "I was just kidding" that I wanted to say stuck in my throat. She called us classmates. Not even close enough to be called ordinary friends. I figured if the doctor hadn't called her, she probably wouldn't have come at all. But I didn't question her. I just smiled as if everything was normal.

It was the first good thing to happen to her since she set foot in this academy. Watching Brandon squirm made her entire morning feel significantly better. Shortly after, the first professor walked into the room. It was a standard, boring theory session. The teacher stood at the front, reading off slides in a monotonous voice, completely unbothered by the fact that half the class wasn't even paying attention. Many of the wealthy students were whispering among themselves, checking their phones, or doodle-sketching in their notebooks. Typical rich kids, Elara thought, rolling her eyes inwardly.

Maybe that’s all he knows. The instructor enters through a door near the front of the classroom. It’s a large room, more like a theater really, with a podium and microphone and many rows of seats grading upward. He is a tall, lean man with a chaos of ink black hair and ice blue eyes. His voice is deep and booming; he hardly needs the microphone. His class is called The Secret Life of Trauma, and it is packed, most of the seats taken. He teaches his students about things with which I am intimately familiar: the defenses created by the personality to survive the unthinkable. I’m my own best case study.