She looked at her planner for the gorgeous month of May with genuine pride and comfort. Full—as usual—with her tasks as a student, the class president, a soccer varsity player, a school paper writer, an actress for the school theater, voice lessons and debutante lessons. An overachiever. Every box in that brown and pink planner was filled with words and numbers that dictate her life and tempo at the moment. Except for three glorious boxes that have absolutely empty spaces. Glorious? Gah. Not even a letter or a dot occupied those squares. These dates, of course, are the first three days of summer vacation.
Summer vacation. It never seemed to fail to bore the hell out of her. The thought of the days without her duties in school, classes where she was on top of, the beautiful soccer field where she scored numerous goals that brought the house down, writing articles that her classmates simply adore reading, dropping lines in successful plays and every lesson that breeds her to be more and more trained and brings her closer to her parents' vision of perfection. She was, after all, an only daughter. She always has to maintain perfection, as her older brother was, and her parents are. It runs in their blood, perfection.
That was her life. She would be nothing without them. Nothing, she thought. Without her success, she will be like any ordinary girl. Plain. Average. And it scares the hell out of her. Excellence was her cushion; it keeps her higher than the rest of them.
No one could blame her though, she was surrounded by success. Her parents were rich and glamorous. All her friends were popular and gorgeous as well, with unlimited credits stamped on their card's name. She studies in one of the most prestigious single-sex school. Perfection was an everyday thing. A luxury not recognized as one.
But then comes summer. No school, no soccer games, no extracurricular activities. What would occupy her time then? The thought of it sends cold shivers up her spine.
"Anna." she heard someone call her name from outside her room. Anna Scott. Girls would kill to be her or one of her friends.
"Come in." she grinned as she opened the door to the elderly housekeeper. "Hi Nadia, did mom or dad call for me?"
"No dear, it's just Cecile, she's downstairs." Cecile is her best friend. She and Anna had a lot in common; both of them are active in school and extra-curricular activities. Both of them came from known families and study in the same school. Both of them are the envy of all the girls in school and the desire of every boy that comes within a meter's radius. But unlike Cecile's savvy self, Anna was less flirtatious and provocative. Cecile can and will get any guy she wants. Anna will stop at the 'can'. In that aspect, they cannot be more different. Cecile and Anna are like sisters, treated as daughters by the other's respective families.
"Could you tell her to come up here? I don't really feel like going out of my room yet." She said lazily, still wearing her pink pajamas. Hey, it's nine o'clock after all! Who wants to go out of her room?
"Okay." Nadia replied and started for the door. "By the way what do you want for breakfast?"
"I'd like toast and jam, thank you." Anna replied and Nadia left her alone in her white bedroom. Everything in it used to be pink when she was a kid, but when she turned twelve, she had the room renovated and turned white. From the carpets and walls and the sheets to the furniture, it was all white. But the little girl in her simply cannot let pink go, so the room was dotted with pink curtains, a pink laptop, a pink radio and lots of other perky pink stuff.
"Hello girl!" Cecile Banks' cheery voice interrupted Anna's thoughts. "How's the first day of the glorious summer?"
"Could be better." Anna replied honestly as she kissed her friend hello. "I mean, I am nine hours in summer's wrath and I am already bored to my grave!"
"Say, I saw this ad on a magazine about summer workshops and stuff at St. Andrew." St. Andrew is one of the most prestigious all-boys school, tempting. "And since I can see that you are so utterly bored, would you like to try it?" Cecile said as she held up a copy of the magazine she was talking about.
That's where everything began.