Your remarkable academic achievements have rendered you an ideal addition to our prestigious institution.
Pantheon University stands as a beacon of intellectual exploration and leadership development. We take immense pride in our alumni, many of whom have gone on to change the world.
We eagerly anticipate your arrival on the 28th of August, a significant day when you will be assigned one of our esteemed houses—The Pioneers, The Guardians, The Tacticians, or The Unifiers—based on your personality test result. This moment marks the beginning of your journey within our academic community, where you will forge lifelong friendships and strive for excellence within your assigned house.
We are certain that your future within these hallowed halls will be nothing short of extraordinary.
Warm regards,
The Head of Admissions
“Do you remember the rules?” Dad said over the phone.
I rushed out of the small private airport where a line of black cabs stood, each with a Pantheon University flag fluttering in the breeze. I’d been ready for this day my entire life.
“Yes. No alcohol. No drugs. No boys. Stay safe,” I repeated. Reading each sign held by the chauffeurs, I searched for my name.
I’d followed my father’s rules for eighteen years—complying with his six o’clock curfew, refraining from sleepovers at friends’ houses, and committing Sundays to our church choir. I’d spent my childhood confined inside our home and finally had a chance to be on my own.
“She’s still a virgin, Bruno. One day, she’ll have a taste of it, and you won’t be able to hold the girl back,” Grandma chimed in, not helping. “Have fun, my flower!”
“Mother, don’t put ideas like that into her innocent head,” Dad complained. They were arguing as if I wasn’t part of the conversation.
“I promise you have nothing to worry about.” I chuckled, waving at my assigned chauffeur before climbing into the cab. “Dad? Grandma?”
“Dalia? Text… Back… Arrive. It seems that…Dalia?”
“Yes, I’ll text you back, I promise,” I rushed to add right before the call ended, the reception breaking up.
The chauffeur adjusted his rearview mirror and fixed his gaze on me. “To enhance security, network access is restricted on the island. It’s under high surveillance,” he explained.
The island, no more than fifteen kilometers in length, was nestled between Normandy and England. The thunderous percussion of waves crashing against the cliffs was like a steady anthem. Inhabited by only a few locals, the whole island revolved around Pantheon University.
“We’re waiting for another student who should be here in—” He winced, then straightened his attire.
The back door opened, and a student with gold earrings and a rainbow-colored dress hurried into the back seat beside me. I quickly moved my violin case, fearing she might crush it, and scooted toward the window. She was very much the opposite of me: her wavy brown hair flowed freely, yet she still managed to look effortlessly gorgeous with thick eyelashes and a tan I could only dream of. She dragged her black cat along in a crate.
A rush of excitement formed in my stomach. This was my opportunity to make my first friend.
“It took me an hour to get through customs.” She gestured with her hands like a scarecrow. “I’m Yasmine. I hope you’re not allergic to cats?”
“No,” I replied, though I paused, realizing it was my turn to introduce myself. I loudly blurted, “I’m Dalia.”
Note to self: don’t scream when introducing yourself; people aren’t deaf like Grandma, and they might be frightened.
She took the black cat out of the crate, and it promptly landed on my lap, staring at me as if attempting to peer into my soul. I met its gaze without blinking.
“En route to Pantheon University,” the chauffeur announced, departing from the airport.
“Music student, huh? I’m studying the classics,” Yasmine said, and when I nodded affirmatively, she pointed at her cat.“His name is Baron, and he’s my mental support cat. My parents don’t believe I’ll survive the college experience alone.”
“I know all about having an overprotective parent.” I chuckled, petting her cat. “My dad wasn’t excited about the idea either, but Pantheon is so selective, it’s perfectly safe.”
The university selected its students from the world’s wealthiest and most influential families, including mine. Acceptance was granted only by reference; its elitism and opportunities were the reason it was every student’s dream to be accepted here.
“Safe?” She snorted. “It’s the den of sharks battling to be the leaders of tomorrow. But yeah, since the terrorist attack ten years ago—you know, the one that targeted the French president’s son—they’ve closed access to the public. No more tourists, except for the annual events hosted by Pantheon. Hello, they even have their own airport—it’s crazy. Plus, I’m a scholarship student. We’re like school weeds here. I bet you’re not here on scholarship, are you?”
My stomach twitched, but I ignored it. “No, but I don’t care if you’re a scholarship student.”
