Tracing Steps to Dreamers.

I threw my arms forward, taking a gulp of air before my body went through the water with the slightest of sounds. Putting on the best streamline I could muster after the three hour practice I had already gone through, I did a few quick butterfly kicks before resurfacing through the clear blue water with a breaststroke style upward motion. I didn’t care about the fact that butterfly kicks and breaststroke never mixed unless I was in fins, Coach Martha had already worn me out to the bone.

Being one of the top swimmers at Salem Execter Academy was a privilege; it came with the intense practices to keep ahead of everyone else on the team. We were part of the top swim groups in the United States, placing first in the past ten years in championships. Swimming was one of the top sports, across from tennis and lacrosse. Football didn’t exist here; it wasn’t a good show of culture so the board members discontinued it after half the season had passed the first time it had been allowed.

“Almost perfect, almost perfect, one more time, we need to work on your arms a little bit more,” she mouthed off in her slight Portuguese accent that she still had from growing up around Brazil as a child. She was one of those strict retired Olympic swimmers of her day; she knew what you were doing wrong in your dives just by hearing the sound on your body sliding through the water. She had grown up in the water, it was only fit she taught at Salem with her talent and skill level.

I groaned, my limbs already wary from the workout they had gotten, but if this school wasn’t the best out of the best, the thought of joining wouldn’t have even crossed my mind. It was filled with the people that already had Harvard, Princeton, Yale, and such colleges sending them letters, not that that wasn’t normal. Most of the ones who stay around are exceptionally smart, rich, or amazing at sports. Some had the grace to have all three, but most only had the money attributes, most of the buildings around the campus had the last names of some of the less academically talented ones.

I rolled my eyes before pulling myself up from the side of the swimming pool, my thin muscular arms bringing my body from the warm waters to the cool air. Chill bumps appeared all over my body, you would think, being in a professional campus swimming pool would give you more benefactors than a regular public pool, but apparently, both places never gave air conditioning a try.

My feet padded to the white diving block, and before I knew it, I was soaring through the air once again, my arms locked into a tight streamline and my legs flying behind me, straight as possible. My head soon surfaced from the water, my black swim cap covering my brown hair with natural shades of blonde mixed in. A red lion crest similar to the Gryffindor crest from the Harry Potter series added in with some touches of Irish symbols, made its appearance on both sides of the hat. It was what was on everything and anything of this place, the uniforms, the sports wear, mirroring the placement of such Abercrombie and Hollister stores. Being placed either on the bottom right side of clothes or on the right side of the chest, the crest was an important part of the society that called themselves attendees of Salem.

“We’ll continue to work on those dives after classes today, you’re dismissed,” the coach gave one final nod to me before walking out the door, the clipboard held to her side.

My face only faltered for a few seconds before throwing on a smile. The hell was over for the day, who knew the trouble I would be getting into with a new coach, midway through the season? Coach Jason, the one before her, was considerably light in comparison, not that his practices were meant for the lonely hearted. It was filled with drills, no breathing laps, and such, but it was nothing against Martha’s coaching. My body may never get used to the soreness she had put me through; I couldn’t imagine anything worse than one practice with her, especially since, being the star swimmer of the girls’ team made me gain one private lesson with her.

The waves of cold air hit my bathing suit clad body as I withdrew myself from the pool, but my smile never disappeared. It was yet another practice behind me, ever since I was a little kid, when my mother had put me into the swim team, after every practice, I was always happy, no matter what had occurred the hours beforehand. It had made me feel accomplished, and seeing the trophies add up on our mantles only made it all the worthwhile.

I threw the sports bag over my shoulder, heading toward the showers located further inside the colossal building that was fully equipped with the best for people like me. Here, they took things seriously, if you were in a sport to joke around, you still went through everything as a regular, you couldn’t quit until the season was over, that taught the jokesters after the first time through. No one had the time to waste of people who had no plans of keeping in the sport, Salem took sporting events very seriously, and it was one of the pride and joys of the academy.

Tapping the screen of my iPhone, the digital clock told me I had less than thirty minutes to get fully ready. A grin appeared on my face, perfect. A long hot shower before hitting the books, I had to show my mother just how much I wanted to stay here, otherwise I would be forced to transfer over to another top school in the United Kingdom, she was always just into the newest thing. The gossip magazines were sent to the house for me, it was for my mother, the newest technology, for my mother, good thing we were filthy rich, otherwise, we’d be living in boxes along Main Street in New York.

I threw off my Nike swimsuit, the monogrammed crest on the right hitting the wall with a short slap. I groaned, the only thing better than a hot shower after a long swim practice was a bubble bath, but the thirty minutes wouldn’t even have limited me much time to even stay situated in the bathtub for that long, sadly. I spurted some shampoo into my hand, followed by some conditioner, and ending with shower gel. Smelling fresh of Sensual Amber from Bath and Body works, I was always the one who was more down to earth in my family; I threw on the white blazer emblazed with the red and black crest, but this time, it had a large white number one on top of the stitching.

What was the one for?

Let me explain, at Salem Execter Academy, the academic classes were listed from A to D, each person placed by the level of their academic standings, easy enough? The top five were selected each semester, they were the ones who would be taught separated, they were the ones who had the matching white blazers which stated the rankings among them.

Number one was the place I had received, in the first semester of my sophomore year. I guess all the tutors and training I had gotten over the three month summer had paid off. I was naturally talented in things, I never really did honestly try, and I still managed to be in the top five, first actually. Hard work does indeed pay off.

I walked out into the open pavilion overlooking the main part of the campus; the sea of navy uniforms covered the grounds below me. Conversations paused when my white outfit came into view, being of the Top Five had this certain appeal to it, more of a disliking of many students, jealousy of others. It was a special title bestowed onto the fortunate students that hit the top of the school rankings. I just happened to be the best of the best at the school, excelling in athletics and academics, not that that wasn’t a rare thing around here; it was just rare to be best in both categories.

I watched my feet as I walked; I hated standing out in a crowd. I mean, I loved my test scores, but I didn’t like how the school had made it so important for everyone to notice me. This was one of the reasons why my nail beds were horrible, I had bit them since I was five. It was during my stage of idolizing my older brother, born five years ahead of me. He had bit his nails as he was going through a shy stage, and I, being the stupid one, copied him, in interests to become more like him. Little did I know that I would soon give up on the stage a few months before he gave up biting his nails, which resulted in this problem. No matter how many things my mother had tried to get me to stop, I never did. According to her, a young lady shouldn’t bite her nails, it was rude and no one of my uprising should have such ugly nails.

“Zephyr!” a few girls called out from their crowds of navy blazers, I cautiously looked up, but my heart jumped at such a huge crowd of onlookers. I was popular, but I didn’t like having so many people, you know, look up at me, look down at me, criticize me, it was petrifying. I turned my head back down, away from the unwavering looks of my old classmates, what happened to best friends forever?

I hurried my legs toward Haruhi hall, named after the first Japanese alumni that had graduated the Academy, quickly establishing herself part of the Japanese ambassador in America. With her success from the school, she donated them enough money for people who were the top of the class to have other teachers, so they could be even better than they already were. It was the place were all the past T5 scholars went, and it was where she headed for everyday for her classes. Four faces welcomed her as she opened the oak doors of the old building. Built in the late 1900’s, it openly said that the program hadn’t existed for many generations.

“Zee!” a pair of arms quickly encircled me.

I grinned, “Amy! How are you possibly such a morning person?”

Meet Amy Skyes, third top student in Salem, her cheery attitude gained her more lovers than haters through the school. There were only few that had enough hate in their systems to hate a person like her. Blonde hair and blue eyes, she was the typical overlooked blonde ditz that everyone had at their schools. Noticing that, she quickly focused more on studying than the usual girly things that people would associate with in their younger ages. With her determined façade, she proved everyone wrong, blondes could be smart. A fellow sophomore that continued to be one of Zephyr’s best friends from the start of their childhood, Amy’s father happened to be one of Darien Taylors’s closest friends. They both worked as co-deans for Harvard, having their names attached to things could take people places.

“Thank God! Zephyr, make her shut the fuck up,” muttered a male clad in the familiar white uniform.

Insert side note here. This wonderful, note my sarcasm, male being was Brice Chen, the heir to his father’s company, one that had the world in his palm. Of the Chinese upbringing, his father had divulged his entire life into his company, Chen Co.. From medical fields to furniture, his company majored in many aspects needed into a daily life, which is why ordinary people liked it so much. Placed in the top ten of the Forbes list, his father was a powerful man. Brice had rebelled in his younger days, taking up cursing and things to get his father to notice him, so of it never really left the junior. He was ranked second in the school, his mind being of much smarter levels, but he just didn’t care about academics as much as his real love, tennis. Oh, and did I mention the junior’s love for all things Starbucks? It was insanity.

“I’m surprised you’re not hyper at this time,” I replied, glancing at the three cups of Starbucks that sat next to the 5’10” male.

“Without it, he’ll be dead, with it, he’s dead. Either way, he’s still an idiot,” a feminine voice came from the more comfortable chairs littering among the bay windows that surrounded the building.

“Who are you calling an idiot, I wasn’t fifth, last time I checked, Amelia!” Brice called back, the teasing in his voice easy to spot.

Amelia Rose, the lowest ranked of us. Her life revolved around animals, she was destined to go into veterinary in the future, but until then, she would be in the academy. Having grown up in northern Maine, in one of the many villas her mother had bought from the pay stars would reward him for treating their pets; she grew up as an only child. Her only friends were the animals around her, if earth fairies existed on Earth, one of them would be Amelia. Dreaming of being her mother as a young child, she strived to learn everything about animals as a tiny minded person could. Now, only a senior, her skills were still looked over, people not expecting much from such a soft spoken person. It was only with enough comfort around people, she let her true thoughts out. She was known for her loving heart and open arms granting her place in many social clubs at SEA.

“Oh, shut up, you’re an idiot for drinking so many Starbucks. You do know coffee rots your brains, no? You’re slowly losing brain cells each gulp you take; I’ll soon overcome your so called ‘smartness’,” she shot back quickly before returning to her open textbook.

I shook my head, chuckling from the silliness of my fellow classmates, it was odd that people looked up to kids like us. We were just the elite five who cared more than enough about ended scores. That reminds me, we’re missing a person…

“Where’s Kaleb? Classes started a few minutes ago, and he’s still n-“

I was interrupted by the sound of a door opening and ragged breathing, “Sorry, I- I’m late, the alarm wouldn’t ring, and what the hell is up with this place having an earlier time of starting than regular?”

Our class clown, meet Kaleb Vardley, it was rumored he guessed on his whole test and still got up to the ranks. He didn’t care much for academics or the money; he was only at this school on a swimming scholarship, putting him high up in my books already. He was part of the varsity swimmers on the Lions. He wasn’t really rich or poor, as you could put it, he was raised by a politician, and a middle classed one at that. It was due to extreme talents a school such as this one had let the reluctant sophomore through its iron wrought gates. Fourth as fourth could place a guy, he had already told the club his ways to fail the next exam, making way for him back to the real world.

“How do you always manage to be so late, but never get caught? And even if you are, you don’t even get into trouble!” Brice complained from his position in one of the wooden chairs that sat around the table in the center of the building.

Kaleb popped his pretend collar up, “It’s the looks, man, the looks.”

It was true, if there was one person who could pull of the just-got-out-of-bed-look, it had to be Mr. Vardley himself. His signature brown scruff of hair always had this look on it that just went with who he was. It was matched with his whole I’m-better-than-you-attitude with his hands always in the pockets of his navy khakis. It all just said Kaleb, and that was who he was.

“Asians are more adorable than mudbloods.”

“Did you just use Harry Potter insults on me, its not like you’re a pureblood!”

“I have both Chinese parents, when you’re partly Italian!”

“But it attracts the ladies, right, Zephyr?”

I looked up from my phone, checking up on the school’s latest gossip. It was similar to the one of the Gossip Girl, but it was looked over by the board most of the time, so many students’ identities were covered up. I rolled my green eyes, it was the usual bickering between regulars, the latest break up, the newest parties, it wasn’t anything different.

“Yeah, whatever you say,” I replied nonchalantly, not really paying attention to the words coming from Kaleb’s mouth.

“So, you’re admitting your love for me, Zee?” he prodded, knowing exactly where my mind set was.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

“Could you repeat that for my phone recording?”

“Yes, I’m admitting my l- wait, what the fuck?” I looked up from my phone when realizing what was coming from my mouth.

“You really do need to pay attention more, Zee,” Amy glanced at me from behind her Chanel compact, I guess blondes really were all conceited to a level. I wouldn’t know, Amelia and I were brunettes to say the least.

I was about ready to kick her ass with an amazing comeback, but the constant vibrating of my phone caught my attention. I tapped the screen without a check first, which was my first mistake.

“Zephyr Taylors? Have you been screening my calls?”

I stuttered, not prepared to hear her voice through the receiver.

“And what is this about swimming I hear about? You better have a good explanation about this otherwise; I will be sending you to Oxford Academy!”

Meet my mother, wasn’t she the loveliest of humans?