Assassin's Creed High-School

Anything but Gym

I love reading the comment section on this book. You guys are so funny~

You make my day ♡

I want to thank ScreechingLife as well for helping me with this. The Primrose Corgi’s would not exist without her~

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The gym features traditional wooden bleachers positioned by the wall parallel to the entrance; by invisible agreement, most students sit five or ten feet away from one other, providing multiple buffer zones. The floor has been polished to perfection. A netted bag of softballs lay in the centre of the floor. On the adjacent wall, dangling directly below the high-walled windows, was a banner with the sloppily spray painted words ‘Primrose Corgi’s 4 the Win!’

You quickly pick a spot on the edge of the second row and give Élise a nudge in the ribs. “What in the hell are the ‘Primrose Corgi’s’?”

Her eyes roll as though she’s embarrassed to even admit it. “The Primrose Corgi’s are this school’s mascot.”

“Mascot?” You quirk a brow. “Most school’s usually select a dangerous predator to represent themselves rather than a domesticated animal.”

She leans back and crosses one long leg over the other. “This school was founded by the Disraeli family in the eighteen hundreds, and the first Viscountess Beaconsfield had a pet corgi which she adored.” Her eyes met yours. “Need I go on?”

A silent shake of the head is the response you give. The teacher still hasn’t arrived, so you take the time to crane your neck and inspect the other students. There a quite a few faces which are familiar: Jacob, Evie, Cesare, Lucrezia, and...Kadar!

Kadar angles his head in your direction. At first you were taken aback by the ability of telepathy which he seemingly possessed, but then you noticed that everyone else was staring also. Embarrassingly you had physically shouted his name without realising. A heat crept onto your cheeks, but all embarrassment was quickly sucked away when Kadar turned away.

What the hell?

“You must have done something scandalous if you were able to make this school’s very own Ralph Wiggum upset with you.” Élise mused, head cocked in Kadar’s direction.

Yes, but what?

The blowing of a whistle detracts your focus from Kadar. You’ll have to get some answers later, but for right now you have to focus on the teacher in the middle of the room; a vigorous bear of a man in his late thirties. A whistle hangs around his neck and his white polo shirt was tucked into a pair of blindingly red shorts which leave little to the imagination. A name tag was pinned to his front pocket which read: Bartolomeo d’Alviano.

“I am disappointed.” His lips pressed into a thin line. “I came in here expecting all of you to be in uniform, and instead you sit here, letting the time tick by.” He began to pace, shaking his head. “Molto deludente (Very disappointing).” He looked back up. “Why are you still sitting there? Si muova (Get a move on)!”

The bleachers groan under the combined weight of everyone’s sudden movements. The boys shuffle into their separate changing room with enthusiasm, whilst the girls saunter towards their changing room as though they had all the time in the world.

“So,” Élise started, pulling her sweater over her head, “anyone caught your eye yet?”

“Caught my eye?” You know exactly what she’s talking about, but you’re more concerned with the fact that you had neglected to pack accordingly. No gym clothes. Now what were you going to do?