It was common knowledge that Rosewood Academy students were full of the wealthy and privileged, but some of the ordinary slipped through the cracks anyway. It was easy to spot them—all you had to do was watch their movements; the way they stepped back at the price of the canteen food; the shift in their eyes at the diversity in school trips; the shallow breaths they took when someone offhandedly mentioned that their blazer looked too old to wear, even though they bought it less than a month ago.
Funnily enough, Pepper Yin was not one of those people.
That morning, Pepper sifted through her new uniform. She held the bag upside down, shaking it as a mix of red, white, and black tumbled to the ground. Her mother had sent her ten different styles of the Rosewood uniform, reasoning that she had no idea which one Pepper would prefer. There were plaid skirts of all lengths and cuts, blazers and waistcoats in both the woman and men versions, white button ups with varying sleeve designs.
Pepper opted for a loose pair of slacks that hung low on her hips. She buttoned her waistcoat, straightening the sleeves of the white shirt under it. She tossed the stiff blazer aside, making a mental note to return the rest of the clothes later. Pepper was about to open her bedroom door, when a loud banging startled her instead.
In burst Amelia Tao in a panic. Her bangs were still in her roller, makeup halfway done. She shook Pepper's shoulders and wailed a jumble of incoherent words. Pepper was momentarily dazed for a second. She watched her room spin before forcing Amelia to still.
"Pepper!" her roommate cried. "I need a hair oil. My old one ran out and now my ends are dry."
"Oh, sure." Pepper reached across her desk and grabbed a small bottle. "Why is your head tilted down?"
"I can't ruin my makeup," she mumbled, her neck pink.
"Of course," Pepper said flatly. She watched Amelia blindly reach for the hair oil, bump into Pepper's closet, bed, and desk, before trudging out with hunched shoulders.
Pepper eventually followed her roommates to the dining hall, where half the Rosewood students would be meeting for the rest of the year. Ten long mahogany tables lined the hall, most of which had already been filled with students of all ages. Pepper spotted people from her cohort huddled together, where a few empty seats awaited her and her roommates.
It was an unwritten rule that people of the same year level had to sit together, but there were always people that broke it. Maybe they wanted to stand out or they just hated everyone around them. Or, perhaps, these people enjoyed causing trouble wherever they went. Whatever the reason was, Pepper couldn't quite figure out why five Year 11s strayed so far away from their cohort; none of the reasons seemed to match their circumstance.
They were called the Nescius—five elite students who were at the top of the imaginary Rosewood foodchain. Nescius was some stupid Latin reference that Pepper didn't understand. The original starters of Nescius were a group of Latin students that had dropped out of the class. They had forgotten that Nescius meant "ignorant" and not "nice," which, of course they did; they were drop outs for a reason. But tradition must have superceded intelligence, because if Pepper was part of the Nescius, she would immediately call a meeting to change it.
Once Pepper had piled her plate with pancakes and syrup, she sat down with the rest of the Year 11s, who were busily jotting down notes in a last minute attempt to complete their holiday homework.
Pepper untied her scarf and draped it over the back of her chair. That accessory was the only thing on her person that was over a year old; she had gotten it as a gift some time ago. It appeared one day in her locker. There was no name attached to the garment, only a note that read thanks for helping me in neat handwriting. Though Pepper had an inkling of who the sender was, she never really paid any attention to it. After all, that was in the 7th Grade. It had been five years since then; none of it mattered now.
Richard Woodcock, otherwise known as Dick, yawned lazily. He leaned back in his seat and burped. That was his telltale sign that he had news, both good and bad.
"What is it?" Pepper asked through mouthfuls. She looked up at him through her choppy bangs. They had grown to her eyes now; it was hard to see past them.
"I know who the prefects are," he said, his eyes suddenly alert. He planted his arms on the table and leaned in close, gesturing past her. "I heard it's them."
Pepper followed his line of sight to find the five Nescius members she spotted earlier. Ajax was playing with a rubber band. He flicked it at the back of Matt's head. Matt flinched and messaged the area, before turning to Ajax. Pepper couldn't hear it from here, but from the look on Ajax's face, he was facing some sort of scolding from his friend.
Claire wore her usual scowl of displeasure. She wore that expression everywhere she went. She was bent over a textbook, shovelling food into her mouth at an alarming rate. Pepper only saw her during assemblies when she was receiving sport awards.
Daisy sat beside Claire, her large brown eyes silently wandering across the dining hall. She was a quiet person, this Pepper knew. They had shared a total of one class together and that was English. It was easy to copy her notes when she spaced out a lot.
Being apart of the Nescius for these four made perfect sense. They came from wealthy families, invested in their hobbies, and were well on track for a fruitful life. The last member of the five was nowhere to be seen.
Pepper waved a dismissive hand and licked her plate clean. "Well, they're all in different houses, right? Not to mention their popularity; it was predicted from the start."
"Yes, but that's besides the point." Dick waggled his eyebrows. "Don't you wanna ask the important question?"
Pepper furrowed her brows. "What question?"
Dick groaned. "There are five people in the Nescius, but six prefects—one from each house."
"You mean to say Pluto's missing their representative?" Pepper asked.
Dick nodded vigorously. "Whoever makes prefect in Pluto will have to join the Nescius!"
Pepper raised a sceptical brow. "Nescius is a selective group, Woodcock. They're not gonna just pick anyone, especially from Pluto."
Amelia perked up. "Say Pepper…"
"Yeah?"
"You're part of Pluto. Don't you know who ran for prefect?"
"Ah… that," Pepper looked away sheepishly, "no one actually ran for prefect."
"Huh?"
Last year, the upcoming Year 11s were meant to nominate themselves for prefect. Their house members would vote for their representative and the winner would be announced at next year's assembly. Pepper, along with the other Year 10s in Pluto, didn't nominate themselves at all. It was a very awkward house meeting. Nobody wanted to represent a ten year losing team. It was an embarrassing thing to be.
When Pepper's brother, Parker, was in Year 11, he had ran for Pluto prefect. He, unsurprisingly, was the only one, therefore, he won. It was a stressful two years, but he had finally graduated in early December of last year. It was safe to say that after Parker left Rosewood, the air felt much lighter. Pepper witnessed a group of Parker's teachers sat around a bonfire, tossing Parker's school photos into it. She joined in.
"So… what's going to happen at the assembly, then?" Amelia asked.
Pepper shrugged, wrapping her scarf around her neck. "Maybe they'll get a Year 12 to do it instead."
"Maybe…" she agreed reluctantly.
"Besides," Pepper continued, rubbing a hand over her freckled face, "it's not like a prefect is going to make a difference. It's just one person bossing sixty other people around. Who listens to them anyway?"
Dick hummed. "I guess we'll find out this afternoon."
Pepper's first three classes were a struggle to find. She had Methods first, which was spent mulling over last year's content. There were equations up on the board that she quickly scribbled down before spending the rest of the lesson playing Sudokus on her school issued computer.
Then came Chemistry. She had came in late and was forced to sit next to a jittery Year 9 accelerate. Accelerators were only permitted in Year 10, which was already a rare thing to accomplish, not because it was difficult, but because no one cared enough to do it. A Year 9 was much rarer, but Pepper didn't question it; she was too busy falling behind her first class.
After recess was Chinese. This came easy to Pepper; she grew up around Chinese relatives and, when other people went to Church on Sundays, she attended Chinese tutoring. She was meant to prepare an oral presentation as her holiday homework and had forgotten. Pepper quickly wrote one down, using the previous presentations as inspiration, and ploughed through it in one breath. She left immediately as the bell rung, not wanting to know her score.
Other than the leadership roles in Year 11, free periods were a major change too. Pepper could spend her time in the restricted section of the school library, because of course there was a restricted section. There were no forbidden books or anything orf the sort, and it wasn't exactly a written rule, but if anyone below Year 11 entered the space, they would be a prime target for Muck Up Day at the end of the year. So, it was better not to stay there.
Now that Pepper was old enough to use the area, she was immensely disappointed by what she saw.
"It's just a study room," she muttered, her eye twitching. "It's a glorified study room."
"Weird." Dick scratched the back of his head. "Ruby Cleaveland told me there'd be a vending machine here."
"Tyler Patterson said there was a freezer for ice creams," Amelia said, looking around.
"They're all liars," Dick sighed defeatedly.
"No." Pepper shook her head. "They're just Nescius alumni."
Amelia opened her mouth, but someone cut her off instead.
"What's this about Nescius?"
The owner of the voice swung an arm over Pepper's shoulders. Upon seeing taped fingers fiddling with the fraying edges of her scarf, she suppressed an eyeroll.
August Qian, the fifth member of the Nescius, beamed down at her in a way that sent uncomfortable shivers down her spine. "Well if it isn't Pepper Yin. Finally taking your studies seriously, I see."
"August," Pepper greeted flatly, prying his fingers away from her. "Don't you have a cult to lead?"
"If you mean Nescius, then no," August said in a slightly exasperated tone. He flashed a charming smile at the three of them. Glitter burst as he spoke. "I'm here to study."
"Righto." Dick looked around.
"Where'd the sparkles come from?" Amelia asked curiously.
August tilted his head. "What sparkles?"
"Nevermind that," Pepper muttered. She looked to Dick and Amelia with a determined glint in her eye. "We have a quiz to study for—"
A sudden grating sound interrupted Pepper. There was a high pitched squeak coming from the school speakers.
"Uh— hello? Shit how does— Yes, Gerald, I'm aware I can't say shit… No! I don't care—"
"Must be the new principal," Dick commented after the noise cut.
"Principal Jones," Amelia agreed.
Pepper frowned. "But wasn't the last principal named Jones?"
"Jonesy's son," was all August said.
"Finally, it works," Principal Jones said. There was a shuffling in the background before a new, monotone voice cleared his throat.
"Can the following please report to the Meeting Room," Mr. Gentry's loud, static voice instructed. "August Qian, Claire Bennett, Daisy Knight, Matthew Povey, Ajax Chu, and…" There was a hesitation, before Mr. Gentry's questioning voice announced, "Pepper Yin—?"
"Wait!" came Principal Jones' voice. "We should've emailed them; the entire academy is going to know this year's prefects—"
The speaker cut out, but it was too late.
Several heads turned to Pepper, eyes wide and brows furrowed. Pepper shifted on her feet, hyper aware of the stares around her.
"I guess the Discere Amare have new writing material," August nudged Pepper's side and snapped his fingers. "Aren't you part of the newspaper?"
"As a formatter, yeah." Pepper let out a frustrated grumble. Her brow twitched and she clenched her jaw.
Pepper wasn't sure how she got to the administrator's building, but she knew her steps were fueled by annoyance.
Pepper was about to burst open the door, when a muffled commotion stopped her. Pepper leaned against the door, cupping her ears. She squinted as she tried to capture the shouts of conversation—if you could even call it that.
"This is psychotic!" a girl was barking. "It— it's out of the question!"
Pepper rolled her eyes. Claire's snappy voice could be recognised from the other side of the school. Pepper had grown accustomed to the blonde rapping on her dorm door when it was time to hand in her phone. She never did of course, which only made Claire more aggravated. When they were 14, she chased Pepper around the boarding house in the darkness of the night. Pepper, who had unfortunately missed out on the athletic genes, collapsed to the ground after half a minute of light jogging.
"You're setting them up for failure, Jonesy," Ajax said drily. "At least pick someone who could narrow the point difference."
"Narrowing the margin means nothing," a soft voice said, though her tone was dull. Pepper heard the clinking of jewellery; that Daisy was speaking. "Pluto's as good as dead. They always have been."
"Kids, please—" That was Principal Jones' voice, clear as day. He sounded much more youthful compared to his father, who talked like the gravel Pepper walked across this morning.
"You three should really learn to loosen up," August said playfully. Somehow, he had gotten here before Pepper. "A bad prefect is better than no prefect."
"Seriously?" Pepper jerked her head away from the door, offended.
"A prefect like her is trouble," Claire shot back shrilly. "Remember her brother last year? He started a food fight in the middle of the Founder's Day assembly."
"He did us a favour," Ajax said. "After that shitshow, the school finally cancelled it."
"It is not cancelled," Principal Jones grumbled. "The academy merely stated that there might be a cancellation—"
"Which means the same thing," countered Matt.
Pepper was beginning to lose track of who was speaking. Her mouth twisted into a frown. She had her hand on the door handle, ready to swing it open, when she felt a sudden force pull it back. She fell forward, tumbling to the carpet ground in a heap.
Pepper massaged the side of her head, groaning softly. When she looked up at the blaring lights, five figures filled her vision. Pepper stood from the ground, taking her time to smooth down her hair and adjust her scarf. She dug her hands into her pockets and cocked her head to the side. It was Ajax who broke the thick silence with a cough.
"Pepper Yin, just the student we were looking for," August said, throwing his arms out. August shot Claire a stern, exasperated glare, concealing it with a forced grin. "We were all just talking about you."
"You didn't hear anything, did you? Not that— not that we had anything to hide, of course. It's just, you know…" Matt laughed sheepishly. Daisy elbowed him.
Pepper rolled her eyes. "Where's Jonesy?"
"Here, here!" Principal Jones shot up from his desk and ushered the five prefects out of his office.
Pepper pulled a chair out at Principal Jones' gesture. She crossed her arms. "I thought you requested all of us to be present?"
"Well, I feel that this conversation is important to be discuss in private," Principal Jones said. "You must have a lot of questions about being Pluto House's Prefect."
"Yeah. For starters, why the fuck am I prefect?" Pepper spat. "I didn't even nominate myself!"
Principal Jones cleared his throat, nervously drumming his fingers against his desk. "I saw in the system that your brother, Parker Yin, was Pluto's prefect. Then I thought to myself, why not let his younger sister carry the torch? And then, in a few years time, his younger sister."
"Polly's two years old, sir." Pepper wrinkled her nose, slamming her fist on the table. "And don't bring my sister into this mess—"
"Think of it as a Yin family tradition! Years from now, when your kids have had kids and they board at Rosewood Academy, they'll think all the way back to this moment, where your generation started it all," Principal Jones finished enthusiastically, ploughing through his speech.
Pepper didn't return his energy. "No one else wanted to be prefect, did they?"
Principal Jones' demeanour turned off like a light switch. He slouched back in his chair, hunching over with a defeated expression. He clasped his hands together in a beg.
"Please, Miss Yin. I'm begging you take some initiative." He ran his fingers through his balding hair. "I've made a deal with the rest of the staff that Pluto can win this year's House Cup. Three thousand dollars are on the line!"
"Three thousand?" she spluttered. Pepper rubbed her nose. "Why the fuck would you agree to that?"
Principal Jones scratched his neck awkwardly. "I was told by the staff that Pluto won every year."
"And you believed it?" Pepper narrowed her eyes, assessing her new principal.
He was a young man, much younger than any principal at a prestigious boarding school like Rosewood Academy. With his receding hairline, he looked to be in his eighties, but he hadn't a wrinkle on his face. Pair those traits up with his gullibility, clumsiness, and desperation, and Pepper wasn't sure where to place him. Either way, new or old, Principal Jones was in fact, a principal; he always had the final say.
"I'll make you a deal," said Principal Jones, after a long beat of awkward silence. He brought out a thick briefcase. It landed in front of him with a thud.
"You think money is what I'm missing?" Pepper rolled her eyes. "At least transfer it digitally; the bank's going think I'm a drug dealer."
"It's not money…" He unclasped the briefcase and flicked it open. Birds chirped a beautiful melody in the background. The sun shone brighter.
"It's empty." Pepper turned to leave.
"It's a metaphor!" he called behind her. "It's respect; it's time; it's success! Isn't that what everyone wants? You'll be known in the Rosewood history books for millenia, Miss Yin! Picture it: Pluto's Perfect Prefect. Even the Nescius members will envy you."
Pepper paused. She turned back to find Principal Jones on the ground bowing down to her. She ignored this.
"You really think so?"
"Sure… sure!" Principal Jones repeated energetically. He held up two thumbs up, nodding.
And so, Pepper found herself shaking hands with her new principal. At the assembly that afternoon, she shook it again, this time receiving a brown badge, the words "PLUTO PREFECT" in gold. She received no applause, people booed her from the audience, and she even got pelted in the head with a tomato, but she didn't care.
As Pepper stood beside her fellow prefects up on that stage, one thing echoed in her mind: she was going to make sure Pluto House won the House Cup that year, no matter what it took.