The Prophet

Chapter 32: You do not have gaydar

I was sitting in a freakin British boarding school.

I was from Winter High-School. Ethan once described my school as 'ghetto heaven'. We had cockroach issues. Kids would sell weed on the school bus and get pregnant in the school bathroom. We had to walk through metal detectors in the morning and they didn't even work. The walls in the 'nice' bathroom were covered in messages such as "Fuck me good". Fights were normal and considered entertaining. The kids in the other schools were "preps" or "snobs".

With my best friends (Marcey, Ethan, Alfie) and my brother I felt perfectly comfortable and I could be myself. When I am with other people I am anti-social. I don't like people. They are selfish evil little backstabbers. I was used to my old school and I was still practically invisible there.

But at the freakin private academy...

I looked like a prep. I was surrounded by preps. Basically a private academy is a boarding school. This one had uniforms. I had to wear a skirt. I hate skirts. It's like the bottom half of a dress! What's the point in that? I wanted my fandom T-shirts. Heck no I wanted to leave this crazy house and go back to America.

But nope there was an evil murderous ghost and me being the wonderful prophet I am, had to kill it. So I was sitting in a classroom and I had to deal with strangers and socialize to figure out how to kill the ghost.

"Hello class we have a new student today." Beamed the teacher brightly. "Come up and introduce yourself!"

Really? I have to walk up there and do the whole 'hello my name is such and such even though you idjits don't even care' thing? Yup!

"Umm hello I'm Ginny" I said in my fake British accent, which is amazing. We had all needed to come up with a fake name for ourselves and I couldn't help the reference.( I mean Harry Potter and Doctor Who reference.) We had decided that we would all be related because it would be really weird if 5 random kids just all happened to transfer into this school at the same time. But the fact that we looked nothing alike and were from 3 different races meant that in our imaginary lives we were adopted. That was also good because Alfie can't do a British accent to save his life so he was adopted from America. I went and sat back in my seat. My first class on my schedule was math, which for some reason is called "maths" in Britain. What's with the "s"?

Math was easy. I had always liked math. It was just numbers. The girl behind me kept looking over my shoulder, probably copying. I moved it so she could see it better. It didn't hurt me to let her copy it. She was going to get an A and I was going to get an A and then leave so that the grade never affected me. Of course now she had no idea how to do the work, but that was her problem.

I sat listening to other peoples whisper conversations. Normal things, boys, parents, enemies. Nothing about the recent deaths of their friends.

"Hey!" Whisper-yelled copycat after she was done with copying "Hey!"

"Yeah?" I whisper-yelled back.

"Ginny right?"

I nodded in response.

"I'm Cindy" she smiled.

"Nice to meet you Cindy."

"Where are you from?"

"Chiswick" I lied quickly.

Stop making references you don't know if that's even a real place!

"Oh that's nice I have a cousin there."

Ok apparently it is a real place.

"Hey somebody said something about some students getting pushed off the bell tower." I said "Does that happen a lot here?"