Designated | A TWENTY SEVEN

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Ms. Shepherd and miss Ivanov were the depiction of good old friends. Chuckling, whispering to one another and arms linked. When the chummy pair grew closer to the academy grounds, they took in the mass of spectators. Miss Ivanov waved curtly at a few fans, as sophisticated as a simple wave could get. Like most posh girls, she seemed to feel inclined to display her class in any form from her mannerism to speech. Apparel being no exception.

Her slim figure was wrapped in a frock coat with feathered shoulders and legs gloved in the type of knee high boots I'd ogle in catalogues. Her graceful umber hair in French braids was especially beholding. An envision of my own curly hair arranged in that style flickered through my mind.
Maybe this was a potential new look I'd been searching for— I took note to try it at my suite later.

I caught a glint in the headmaster's' eyes at The Aces when they grew nearer. Well more specifically, her grandson.

"And I'm sure you're familiar with this young gentleman," Ms. Shepherd started.

Miss Ivanov wore a broad smile in recognition but I saw when the corner of her lips twitched. "Yes, of course."

Garren's expression was neutral, his focus not even on the brunette but instead the older woman.

"The drive down here from Cambridge must've been exhausting." began Ms. Shepherd with a tenderness I assumed was sympathy. Since sitting back at the passenger seat while your chauffeur was driving for an hour and a half was apparently very tiring. "You alright?"

"Well now that you mention it, I'm a little dehydrated," Ivanov proclaimed, a hand brushing her temples.

"Oh dear. Let's go have you settled in my office first and fix you up some tea, how's that sound?"

"Oh, perfect. Thank you miss."

"No problem." Ms. Shepherd flashed a smile of seeming endearment. I pondered if the scheming woman had any genuine ones she shared with anybody. "Now all of you get to class. Miss Ivanov will be guest speaking later on this afternoon at the auditorium and there’ll be plenty of time to ask for photos or anything. Garren..." A subtle bass drop in her velvet tone. "There's also something I need to discuss with you. Why don't you come along?"

His jaw was taut in what seemed ready to be a protest but against the steely stare down by his nan, he followed behind as the two women made a start to the headmaster's quarters.

The crowd was dispersing but Will, Ben and I still stood with lingering gazes on their figures, wary of what was about to unfold.

"Hey, Will," said Ben suddenly, "would the speedboat work on gays too? Or would I just need to get one that looks like a vagina?"

**

The buzz of the celebrity vlogger Virtue spread rapidly throughout the academy. I hadn't stepped into the classroom before overhearing the whispers from peers and groups in the halls. Speculations on some kind of showdown between her and Garren for the blatant trash talking or more ignorant claims Ivanov was here to personally boot him out of St. Sinclair.

Either way, all were eager for the auditorium segment as acclaimed by the headmaster. I, however, was too jittery to be patient so I scheduled a meet up with Will by the west archway leading to the football pitch for hopefully, an enlightenment on this sudden appearance.

It was clear as day the batty headmaster called Esme Ivanov down here once realising her grandson wasn't going to do a single thing about the ruckus the video made. I couldn't complain but I simply had my own concerns about Ivanov.

"Lunch?"

Will nodded. "Garren said Shepherd is forcing him to take her out to our usual on Thursdays in order to 'talk things out'."

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