Novel & Cerita Classroom Of The Elite Volume 9

Olivia had a frown on her face as she entered into the private elevator, leading to the private classrooms. "That arrogant jerk!" She grumbled, her face squeezing up, "Who does he think he is?" She finally pushed the knob, and the soft gliding sound of the glassy door could be heard as she entered into the class. The private classroom was totally different from their normal classrooms. There were three black plush swiveling chairs, with laptops on their tables. It was incredibly spacious and exuded grandeur. Inside this same classroom, there were three separate relaxation suites for the boys.

I forced back the tears in my eyes and the vomit rising in my throat. ‘It’s fine,’ I told myself quietly. ‘With that, all 99 coupons have been used up. ‘I’m leaving you for good, Leonard.’

But this was the first time we were all together in the same class. Areena, Edward and Pretoria. Being their final year, the school authority made an elite class of all the highest-ranking students, making it the best of the Best. Elite Class A, obviously all three happen to be among the 25 of the best final-year students in all the classes. Being an honored class makes it even more difficult for Areena with the whole school. "Everybody hates me." She mumbled to herself, wishing for the final year to end. And how she would have to endure it again. The class ended, in a blink of an eye, and so does the school.

After remembering for the eighth time that I am the real heiress to the wealthy Fletcher family, my brothers are about to hypnotize me again for the ninth time. My three older brothers, Dustin, Dominic, and Derek Fletcher, make me draw lots to decide the role that I'm going to have to assume after I'm hypnotized. The three lots are labeled "fake heiress", "the maid's daughter", and "the impoverished student the family is sponsoring". "Draw one." I don't move a muscle. Dustin's face turns grim first. "If you still want to continue living in the Fletcher household, Autumn, then stop trying to steal Daphne's identity away from her!" Dominic frowns and says impatiently, "Can't you be more

Rain returned to Garden Metro like a warning. The skies poured with the kind of relentless weight that made time feel slower, heavier. Elara sat at Damien’s long dining table, flipping through a series of screenshots—screenshots Cassidy never intended anyone to see. Group chats. Secret DMs. Mocking nicknames. Detailed plans on how to isolate classmates. Every line oozed cruelty masked as charm. “You’re telling me she actually made a spreadsheet ranking her classmates by ‘usefulness’?” Elara asked, stunned.

She casually explained and continued to walk up the stairs with me. I arched my brows in curiosity. “What class are you in?” “Class 9b. The mysterious and best class.” Arya gushed happily, but seeing me stare at her unfazed, she shrugged. “Your class and ours don't see eye to eye, so they won't mention our class to you. I wonder what the secretary was thinking of when she assigned you to class 9A.” Arya chatted happily, and I casually made an acknowledging sound in reply to her words.

"I've always known you to be one hell of a confident girl. Why is your esteem injured this morning?" Elora adjusted the stiff, designer blazer of the Saint Jude's uniform. It felt like a costume. "It's a school for the elites, Maya. I'm not going there because I'm an elite-I'm going because I won a scholarship. You know how these rich kids behave. They bully people who aren't of the same class."

But under Elena's gaze, he couldn't bring himself to refuse. He could only nod helplessly. Elena hurried out the door to catch the bus. Shaun wanted his driver to take her, but she declined, and he didn't insist. Brightsun Elite High School. Elena jogged all the way to her classroom. As soon as she stepped inside, she noticed some unusual glances. When she looked over, her classmates quickly lowered their heads, as if trying to hide something. Elena didn't pay much attention. She calmly walked to her seat and sat down.

LUTON PREP BOARDING SCHOOL MANHATTAN 11 YEARS AGO, TWO WEEKS BEFORE SPRING BREAK AND THE BENOIT AND DALTON CAR CRASH. “You’re late Elsida,” Professor Muton raises his eyebrow as she steps into the classroom. Students snicker and mumble incoherent words as she stalks to the only empty seat situated in front of the classroom. Her leg skids to a stop when she notices the occupant of the seat next to hers. Julien’s head is bowed, oblivious to the murmurs around him. His gaze rooted to the phone in his hands.

After the series of events from the past weeks, everything died down and everyone began settling into their normal lives, i was back tutoring evans with a renewed resolve and unshakable defence or so i thought. I was more than determined not to notice he and his sly moves. Tamine clutched the three-ring binder to her chest like a shield. She had chosen the most unromantic place possible for their first mandatory tutoring session: Classroom 214, a musty, forgotten space on the third floor that smelled vaguely of old chalk and desperation. The room was mostly empty, the low winter sun casting long, judgmental shadows across the chipped linoleum floor.