Novel & Cerita Classroom Of The Elite Volume 8

--- That afternoon. Ella sat quietly in an empty classroom reviewing lecture notes. The door suddenly slammed open. Several students entered. Two boys. Three girls. Known campus troublemakers. They walked directly toward her. Ella didn't even look up. A mocking laugh sounded. "So this is the abandoned daughter?" The leader grabbed her notebook. Then threw it onto the floor. Splash! A bottle of water followed. Her notes instantly became soaked. The classroom erupted with laughter. Outside the room. Bella watched from a distance.

“Did your roommate try to sacrifice you to a dark god or anything? Some of them are weird.” “No, she’s quiet. Her name is Elara,” I replied, taking a piece of toast. “She seems fine.” “Elara is cool. A bit of a loner, but she’s one of the smartest hybrids in the school,” Jack explained between bites of sausage. “You ready for Albright’s class? Get ready to be bored to death.” “He’s not that bad,” Janet chimed in. “He just likes the sound of his own voice. The real problem is who else is in that class.” She subtly tilted her head toward the Aurora table.

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

“Miss Vance. You wanted to see me about your midterm.” Elara’s heart hammered against her ribs. She stood before his massive oak desk, her fingers twisting the strap of her book bag. A large, red ‘D’ was circled at the top of the page he held. “Yes, Professor. I… I know it’s bad. But I really need this class to graduate. Is there anything I can do? Anything to raise the grade?”

**“Janna, drop it. Seriously.” Janna held up her hands in mock surrender. **“Alright, fine. But I still think you like him.”** Elie’s quickened her pace, desperate to end the conversation. They finally reached their classroom and slipped into their seats just as the bell rang. --- **Later That Day – After Class** The school day dragged on painfully slow. Elie’s tried focusing on her lessons, but her mind kept drifting back to Damien and Bianca. The scene in the cafeteria replayed over and over, much to her frustration.

"My father said she hid the debt in my blood. If she’s in the Eighth, did she go there to hide, or was she taken?" Vane walked toward her, the glass of bourbon forgotten on the marble table. He stopped inches away, his presence an intoxicating blend of power and familiarity. "The Eighth is the 'Silent Court.' It’s where the architects of the universe put the things they wanted to forget. Your mother wasn't just a Guardian's wife, Elara. She was a runaway."

She just asked me a question; I half yelled and walked out of the class after carrying my bag Gosh! What have I gotten myself into?? I thought as I ran my hand across my hair I got to the elevator and pressed the open button and it opened I got inside without checking who is inside It closed itself and I clicked on the 1st floor Kelly; a voice called and I turned back Who could it be? 💝💖SCOTT POV💝💖 Gosh!!! I ran my hand across my hair as he angrily walked out of the class What question could she ask him?

Chapter Four: The Boy From the Past Elara’s POV I hated being late. Mira and I stood just outside the classroom door, our hearts thumping fast. We could hear the professor already talking. I looked at her. She looked at me. “Are you ready?” she whispered. “No,” I muttered, holding my books tighter, “but let’s just do it.” We quietly pushed the door open. The classroom was packed—every seat taken. Heads turned. The professor frowned, his sharp eyes narrowing behind round glasses.

My girlfriend, Olivia, had one way of measuring how much I loved her: how fast I replied. In the two years we dated, she blocked me 88 times. The first time, I was in the shower and missed her call. The 17th time, I was bringing her coffee when I missed a message asking for extra ice. The 56th time, I was at dinner with a client and didn't respond quickly enough to a video she'd sent me. This time, I worked until ten and missed the 9:50 p.m. movie she'd asked me to see with her. I told her there was a problem with the project and my manager wouldn't let me leave. She just laughed. "Anyone who really loves me would make it to a movie even with ten minutes' notice." When I got home that night,

I crossed my arms slightly despite the books I was carrying. “Clearly not.”Cole sighed softly before lowering his voice. “People here follow Dylan Winthrop.”I blinked. “That’s ridiculous.” “It’s true,” he replied simply. “And trust me… you don’t want his attention.”Too late for that apparently.Before I could respond, Cole pushed open a large classroom door. The second we entered, conversations stopped.Every head turned toward me instantly and my stomach dropped. The classroom itself looked nothing like a normal high school classroom. It was huge, modern, and ridiculously expensive-looking. Large windows overlooked the campus while sleek black desks filled the room neatly.And every single stu