THE ARISTOCRATS #1

00:02

"ME?"

Clementine turned around to see who had spoken. A triumphant and hopeful expression lit up Taryn's face as she stood up, trampling in her sandwich in her haste to stand.

Aaron frowned, staring in disdain at her. He looked like he had just caught sight of something truly heinous, like a rotting cat carcass. It was the best way to describe his expression. It would've been funny if not for the complete lack of humour in his disgusted gaze. She wondered what it would feel like to have that gaze on her. No, what it would be like to give someone that look.

"Was I fucking talking to you?" He asked mockingly. "I wasn't even looking in your general direction."

Taryns face crumpled, as she and the other girls gathered their things and hurried away.

"Wait-" She called out desperately, but her cry fell on deaf ears.

Clementine silently cursed at how no one offered to help her. She didn't blame them, standing up to the Aristocrats was hard, if not impossible. They relocated a couple metres away from her, whispering and swapping conspiracies between each other.

"You can't just do that," She frowned at Aaron, tucking her water bottle into her bag and zipping it up.

"I didn't do anything," Aaron pointed out, sneering slightly. He turned around and began walking back to the Aristocrats.

Clementine debated not following him. He wouldn't physically force her to follow him. But she was a coward to her core, she chose to walk after him in fear of retribution.

The other three Aristocrats stared at her expectantly as she walked up to them, making room for her on the lush grass. Their amused stares weren't really helping with her nerves. Aaron sat down, leaving a space between him and Elijah.

"I don't understand," She said anxiously. "What's going-why am I here?"

"You look pretty lonely, Clem," Elijah spoke up, plucking blades of grass. "It'd be pretty disrespectful if you denied our invitation to sit with us, the invitation we made with the kindness in our hearts."

He was clearly taking the piss, but Clementine's heart pounded at his nasty tone.

He raised a dark eyebrow, daring her to speak up.

She sat in the space Aaron had left between him and Elijah, fingering the frayed thread on her plaid skirt. Her knees were tucked underneath her in an effort to take up as less space as possible. It didn't help that Elijah was lazily manspreading next to her, arrogance oozing from his every pore.

"Everyone's looking," She noted, looking around the courtyard.

And indeed they were, curiously staring at the odd group.

"Who cares?" Ronan asked.

Clementine admired and feared his confidence at the same time. She spied a green, white and red flag pin on his satchel, recognition lighting in her eyes.

"You're Iranian?" She blurted before she could stop her tongue.

Ronan pause, meeting where her gaze ended, on the pin. He nodded slowly, crossing his arms as his eyes glinted with a slight confusion.

"Yeah, I am," He replied slowly. "Was born there but we moved here when I was two."

"So you speak Farsi?" She asked, tilting her head.

Ronan's gaze brightened slightly, but his expression stayed the same.

"You know what that is?" He asked. "I did not expect that. Yeah, I speak Farsi. My mum wasn't fluent in English so I spoke Farsi with her."