Double Identity

Chapter 2 : Connor Stanley

I wanna start making more dedications, so I'm dedicating this to a great friend of mine :)

**********

Chapter 2 : Connor Stanley

‘Breathe Chesca. Breathe. Calm yourself.’ I told myself. My parents had dropped me off and left me all on my own to deal with the people at the front office. It’s a miracle that they even flew with me to New York. I stood there, in front of Connor Stanley’s; in all its brick glory, on the outskirts of Manhattan. It’s actually very odd to see a huge campus of a boarding school just outside of Manhattan. It looked so out of place. Before I went inside, I made sure my wig was in place, and no part of my flatting corset was showing. When everything was in the clear, I picked up my single (but huge) suitcase dragged it to the front office. I marveled the great architecture for a moment, until I was snapped back into reality when quite a few dudes walked into the hall and almost bumped into me. I dodged them, and quickly found my way into the office, which looked really… clean. White walls with awards hanging, and the picture of the valedictorian. A single desk with two doors, one on the left side, and the other on the right. A plump, middle aged lady sat behind the desk, so I assumed she was the secretary. I walked up to her.

“Uh… Hi,” I said, trying to catch her attention.

“Yes?” She asked, with a heavy New York accent.

“Um… I’m here to see the dean, Dr. Gardner. I’m the new student.”

“What’s your name?”

“Frank Hyde.” I was extremely used to this. Giving my guy name to people. No one even knows the Hyde’s have a daughter. They always thought they had a son. So I had to play son in everything.

“Oh yes. We’ve been expecting you. Right through there, darling.” She pointed to the door to her left. I said my thanks and knocked on the door.

“Come in!” I heard someone say from the other side of the door. I opened the door and walked in, only to be greeted by a young, good looking woman, who I presumed was Dr. Gardner. She stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Dr. Gardner. You must be Frank Hyde.”

“Yeah. Hi.” I said, as I shook her hand. When I released it, she gestured towards a chair in front of her desk. I sat down.

“Welcome, Mr. Hyde, to Connor Stanley’s Academy for Boys. You are one of the few young men to ever enter Connor Stanley in their junior year. You have gotten exceptional grades from your home tutors, and you must maintain that in order to stay here. We provide no exceptions, is that clear?” I nodded my head. “Good. Now here is your schedule, room number, locker number and combination, everything you need is in this folder. Good luck, and don’t be late for your first class tomorrow.” Dr. Gardner handed me a folder, I took it, said goodbye, and got out of there. Of course I didn’t have a tutor. I went to Waverly High. ‘Frank’ had the tutors. Mom and Dad paid some tutors to copy down the straight-A grades I got into a ‘homeschooled’ report card with Frank’s name on it.

I walked over to the center of the quad and looked around. Boys were everywhere. Sooner or later, I finally found my way to the dorm rooms. The door said ‘Room 303’, and I was sure I was in the right place. I took a deep breath, and opened the door. There was no turning back now. When I opened the door, I saw four boys. All talking and fixing their stuff. And a room. A huge, huge room. I stood there for the next five seconds, just staring, and trying to soak everything in. All the boys in this school seem to be perfect. I have yet to see any fat people. Maybe they also consider looks.

“May I help you?” Asked boy number one.

“Uh. This is room 303, right?” I asked, to no one in particular.

“Yes,” Replied boy number two.

“Um… I’m your new roommate then,” I said as I walked in. Thankfully, my naturally low voice didn’t give me away to the boys, who just shrugged. But then boy number three started checking me out.

“Are you a junior?” He asked.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“But, you’re so short.” True. I’m 5”3, and I’m supposed to be a dude. Everyone in this room was at least 5”10 or something.

“Yeah. My mom’s really short,” I told them. Total lie. Mom’s 5’11. She’s a super model. Dad’s like, 6”3. I just got the short gene from my parental grandmother, who was from Malaysia.

The rest of the day went by pretty smoothly. The boys introduced themselves, and I did to. Paul Jackson was the boy number one. Boy number two was Derek McCourtney. The boy who was on his desk reading a book was Anthony Wade. And the tallest one, who refused to even acknowledge me and even say his name (Anthony had to do it for him.) was Mark Avery. I skipped dinner that night and slept instead. I didn’t want to be late tomorrow. There was no way I was going to skip breakfast.

I woke up at six the following morning. I didn’t even hear the boys come in last night, but they were there. All in their beds. Our beds were against a single wall, with mine closest to the bathroom. The one that was facing the gigantic window that was covered with the blinds. If you face the window, the door to your left would be the exit to the hallway and the one to the right the bathroom. Next to our beds was our small desks and mini closets that were big enough to hold only your school uniform. The rest of your clothes were under your desks, in locked compartments. I sat still for a while, making sure no one was awake and stood up to go take a shower. After thirty minutes of being bind-free and under the hot, flowing water, I got out, fully dressed, and saw that Anthony was starting to stir. I put everything back in its place and took my wallet and key out. I opened my wallet to make sure my cash card was there. When it was, I stuffed it in the pocket my grey uniform trousers, and walked out the door, before any of the boys woke up.

The cafeteria was empty. No one was there. Except the chef and the butlers. I sat down on the table labeled ‘303’, and was approached by a butler.

“What would you like sir?” He asked.

“I’ll have the eggs and bacon, please.” I said, reading off the first thing that was on the menu. He hurried off, and after about five minutes, came back with my food and a wireless card reader on his tray. I gave him my cash card as he put my plate in front of me. He swiped my card and punched a button. He gave it back and I uttered my thanks. The butler left immediately to join his buddies.

The food was magnificent. Cooked by the five star cook. Connor Stanley might be a school for intelligent young men, but it’s also a school for rich people. Intelligent kids who are unwanted by their parents get stuck here. Like me. Boys filed into the cafeteria, and it started to become a blur of talking people and moving butlers. I just sat down and observed. My food was long gone, and according to the clock above the kitchen door, it was seven in the morning. The boys in 303 walked in and sat around me. Anthony to my right, Paul to my left. Derek next to Paul, and Mark occupying the remaining seat. They continued chatting as if I wasn’t there, and I honestly didn’t mind it. I was still too busy trying to adjust to being surrounded by so much testosterone. This whole place was reeking of it. Then suddenly, all went quiet. I looked around with a shocked look on my face. One second they were noisy as hell, then the next, not a single thing can be heard. All the boys were looking in one direction. The entrance to the cafeteria. I look over and saw Dr. Gardner there.

“Well Gentlemen! I hope we had a good night’s rest! I just want to remind you all that this year, juniors and seniors are required to join a sports team, and will be choosing which one in homeroom. Freshmen and sophomores will be required to try-out if they wish to. Anyway, good luck everyone, and chop-chop, classes start in ten minutes!” Dr. Gardner left without another word and I got up. I was new, and didn’t know my way around yet. At seven forty-five classes start, and I wanted to be on time. I’m big on first impressions.