Hey guys! Falcon-Elf here. This is a story I've been thinking about writing for a very, very, very long time but couldn't bare to have anyone else read. Well, now I'm finally letting it go online so I'm hoping you'll all enjoy it 3 It's one of my personal favourites but I have this habit of always changing it so keep tuned !

I kept a few diaries during my life and recently discovered them all again in a trunk I left in my old house. My husband waited for me outside, probably looking at the garden with interest. I dug out all my old things and stuffed them in a bag.

This is a story I'm writing based on those diaries, and the small snippets I remember.

This happened a few years ago…

I sat in the chair, looking at the hairdresser inside the mirror. "Cut it all off," I said. She was brushing my long hair, and it took her a while to process what I said. "I'm sorry?" she asked.

"Make me look like the boy in this photo."

"Welcome to All-Boys Wilson Academy," the middle-aged, beautiful woman sitting in front of me clasped her hands together as she greeted me. She sat behind a large, wooden desk. "This Academy excels in both sports and academics, and is the best school in the country. I hope you fit in well, Alex." She was beautiful, with a pretty face and slim figure. I was drawn in immediately by her smile. Her long black hair was braided into a neat bun, and her blue eyes seemed to stare right through me.

"Thank you, Mrs Wilson."

Delilah Wilson, the woman who took over the school after her grandfather. Wilson Academy became the best school in the country after the students from years 8 to 12 snagged the gold medals in soccer, basketball, baseball and rugby five years in a row. Also at least 90 percent of students enter a university after graduating. The school mostly accepts students on scholarships, and those students are allowed to enter the dormitories. Rumour had it that all the students that excelled in sports and academics were only accepted if they were incredibly attractive.

This school is every boy's dream of entering.

Just by mentioning to a stranger that you graduated from Wilson Academy that person will hire you, no matter the company, even without experience.

"I wish you good luck," the director of the school leaned forward, "it will be difficult to achieve what you want. You are only thirteen, after all."

I smiled politely. "Thank you, Mrs Wilson, but I'll be fine."

"You get to choose which dormitory you want to enter," she told me and shoved folders and papers into my hands. "There are three dormitories in total."

"How many students live in the dorms?" I asked.

"Only about twenty around your age, I guess. But in total there are over one thousand students in this school. Every year we usually let students write down a few names of their friends so they don't get put in separate classes. The school is split into the East, West, South and North Wing. East Wing is where all the years 8 to 10 are. West is the seniors, 11 to 12. North is where club activities are held, and then finally South Wing, where the dorms are located."

I tried hard to intake all that information, but most of it went through one ear and out the other.

"We're very strict in this school," she laughed a cheery little song.

"Oh…"

"You have good grades, so you'll have no problem in that area, but I'm worried if you'll be able to pull this off. The guys here are very immature I must admit."

"Immature?"

"Well, for the guys at the dorms they get bored easily, so they always hold stupid little competitions. At one stage we had five of them streak their clothes and run the entire perimeter of the school."

"That's quite a distance…" This school is too big! I thought.

"Indeed. Well, whatever the case may be, Darren is always there to help you."

Ugh, Darren. "Why did he have to become the school doctor?" I demanded. "I don't want him here!"

"We needed a doctor. The last one quit." She looked at me up and down, inspecting me closer, before finally allowing me to leave. As I made my way through the school I studied the map, trying to memorize as much of it as possible. The school uniform was an attractive one. It was dark blue, with a white tie and a white shirt underneath with black pants. When I said attractive, I meant it just looked good on the boys surrounding me.

But that's what scared me. No matter where I looked, all I saw was guys.

A tall one with a scary-looking face, and then a short but moderately-good-looking one.

Yeah, I entered an all-boys school.

I walked a bit more before finally deciding to go to class. I was in grade 8, and only turned thirteen quite recently. My luggage was left in the common room that was shared between the 3 dorms, under the care of some random teacher just sitting there with a cup of tea. At the time I didn't understand why it was so important to choose which of the 3 dormitories I should live in.

I looked up at the number on the door. EW-8. East Wing class 8.

That was my classroom for the year. I knew that the minute I walk through the doors I would become the centre of attention. In Wilson Academy it was rare for a student to enter school half-way through a semester.

I pushed open the white door to reveal a large classroom of thirty students, all my age, sitting on their desks and chatting away. One boy was throwing a basketball on the wall trying to make it rebound and hit people in the head. Another was kicking a soccer ball across to his friend.

Where's the teacher? I wondered. They didn't notice me as I slipped into the classroom to stand where the teacher's desk was in front of the blackboard.

After a few seconds the door opened again.

"Alex!" he shouted.

I jumped, almost tripping over and landing on my face.

My new teacher was at least in his forties, with thinning brown hair and big brown eyes. "I was looking for you! Director told me you left her office an hour ago!"

"An hour?" I mused. "Time seems to have left me." I looked at him as he frowned. "Ah, Miss Wilson told me to get to know the school so I was just memorizing this part of the building." The entire school, actually.

"Oh." He scratched his chin. "Let me introduce you then."

By then all the students had sat in their seats with their eyes trained on me. I squirmed and shuffled the folders and books I was holding.

The teacher cleared his throat and looked at me. "Oh, I'm Mr Dawson by the way." He turned to face his students. "Today we have a new student all the way from America," he began, "and has moved to Australia due to family reasons. Please welcome him to this class. He's also entering the dorms."

The class broke out in chatter. I was directed to sit near the back of the class next to the boy who was kicking the soccer ball around. He had black hair and big blue eyes, and was staring at me.

And staring.

And staring.

I fidgeted a bit in my seat before I finally turned to look at him with a scowl on my face. "Is something wrong?" I asked him.

His face showed utter surprise. "No! No! It's fine."

What's fine? I turned to face the front again. No one was paying attention to the teacher, and the teacher wasn't particularly interested in teaching either for some reason. I wondered how on Earth anyone could get good grades in that type of environment.

After a while the boy staring at me introduced himself with a wide smile. "I'm Jamie! I live in dorm 2. Did you decide on which dorm to join yet?"

I shook my head. "No, not yet."

"Be careful then." He winked, and a dreaded premonition welled up inside me.

Another boy came up to me. He had blonde hair, brown eyes and a beautiful smile. Immediately I could tell he was the type to always smile and cheer others up. Just looking at him made me feel energetic.

"I'm Daniel!" he said gleefully. "I'm also in dorm 2. Jamie here is a bit of a downer so don't pay much attention to him."

Jamie pouted. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"We're in the soccer club," Daniel continued, ignoring Jamie's question. "You havn't decided your dorm yet, have you? Then let me give you some advice: Choose carefully."

I looked at him thoughtfully, still staring at his smile. "Why?"

"I'll explain," he said and climbed on my desk, placing his legs either side of me on my chair. I felt trapped. "The three dorms are completely different. And when I say different, I mean different. Dorm 1 has everyone from the judo club, the karate club, the mixed martial arts club, the weightlifting club, the wrestling club and boxing club. So dorm 1 students rely mostly on their strength."

"Dorm 2?" I asked.

"That's us," he said and pointed to himself and Jamie. "That's mostly the sports club. Soccer, basketball, softball, baseball, hockey, rugby, marathons, swimming, tennis, golf, archery, and more that I can't be bothered mentioning. But we're also a mixed of academic students that excel in world languages and English."

"Dorm 3?" I didn't even want to know.

"They're more to do with the arts, and most of the academic students live there. The reason dorm 2 is mixed is because dorm 3 and dorm 1 have too many students."

"I live alone," Jamie added.

"I live with a smart-ass," Daniel grumbled. "A guy named Brodie."

I pushed Daniel's legs away from me. "Well, I don't care which dorm I enter." The bell for the end of class rang and I got up alone with the rest of the students. "I only came here for one thing."

I left Daniel and Jamie in the class as I gathered my things and ran all the way to South Wing.

I reached the common room and sighed as I sat down on one of the many sofas spread out across the room.

The common room was directly linked to a kitchen where usually breakfast, lunch and dinners are served. If anyone wanted anything else they would have to cook for themselves. It was all paid for in the school's fees. In the common room were three rows of long, dining tables, six tables in each row. On the right was the passageway to dorm 1, the left to dorm 3, and opposite the kitchen was the passageway to dorm 2.

Once students began filing their way into the common room I left. I glanced down at my time table. Physical Education next.

Little did I know that this easy subject was going to be the start of my doom.

Class EW-8 all lined up on the oval. In front of us were track lines.

"Today's PE lesson is sprint."

A few groans, and a few whoops.

"Everyone knows Daniel will win," someone nearby muttered.

"Yeah, he's the fastest in our year."

"Jamie, Daniel and… Alex, you three come up and go first," Mr Dawson called.

"Good luck, new kid," the red-haired boy next to me whispered. "It's okay if you don't win against those two, they're extremely athletic anyway."

I just nodded and stood at the starting line. The three of us crouched down into our starting positions and braced for the whistle to indicate when to run.

It's a one hundred meter sprint, I thought in my head.

The whistle sounded.

As I ran I could feel the wind whistle in my ears and my mind went blank. I never liked sprinting this fast, it annoyed me somehow. The last time I sprinted to my full capability I was annoyed by all my teachers.

After all…

It's not every day someone can break a record.

Mr Dawson wasn't surprised. He knew my background, Miss Wilson told him. The students, however, were all standing with their mouths wide open.

Flies will go down your throat, I thought with a hidden grin.

"J-Jamie, 11.05 seconds. Daniel, 10.8 seconds."

Daniel cheered, but then realised his friends weren't cheering with him like they usually would've.

"Alex, 9.57 seconds."