The Good-For-Nothing Society | Completed

Chapter Four

"Since we're the first ones here we get to pick our beds." Grace tells me, then she waits for me to pick first - which, when you think about it, is a super nice thing to do, seeing as I'm the only new one and all.

I don't waste much time and opt for the one nearest the window seat, dropping my bags on the bed, Grace drops the two she was carrying too. Then she grabs, what I assume are her bags that were already in the room, and picks the bed on the other side of the window seat. I watch as she starts unpacking so I do too, not that I brought much to begin with.

Outside the door I can hear footsteps thundering up and down, girls laughing, people chatting. It's probably a pretty standard thing, but home was extremely quiet growing up, dad said he could hear more in silence, so all the noise is a bit unsettling. I can't help but look towards the door every time a loud bang is made. I even jump a little when a group of girls cackle right outside.

Grace notices. "You get used to the noise. It dies down after a day or two anyway."

"Yeah," I say quietly, mostly because I can't think of much else to say.

"We have a welcome dinner at six-thirty, which is in twenty-minutes, you can meet everyone then. Did you want me to show you to the bathroom?"

I shrug, "sure. Let me just grab my makeup bag so I can freshen up."

Grace frowns at me, "you think you don't look fresh?"

"God, no. I've been sat in a car for nine hours."

She laughs. "Oh, the girls here are going to hate you if that's what you look like when you're rough."

I laugh with her, mostly because I don't really know what she means and I don't want to ask. This is me, stinking of car, tired from sleepless nights, my hair not done and my clothes old and ratty. It's about as bad as I get. It's certainly not how I want to look when bumping into Elijah again.

Grace leads me to the shared bathroom, which has fifteen showers, ten toilets and five baths. I wash my face, throw on a little bit of mascara and blusher and then smile at my reflection.

I look exhausted but sleep is illusive these days. When I do close my eyes all I imagine is someone creeping around our house, watching me. Or I have visions of dad calling my name before being hit by a car. I haven't told anyone, not about knowing there was someone creeping through our house or the fact I haven't slept for weeks. Mum would probably admit me or something. She'd love that.

At 6.30 on the dot, Grace and I are jogging down the grand staircase to the Entrance Hall. There's an extreme level of noise coming from it; cooks clanking, people gossiping. Grace leads us over to the long mahogany table on the right; I can tell straight away it's for sixth formers only, with a mix of boys and girls. The other twelve tables in the hall are mixed by year too. Grace sits opposite two other girls, they smile warmly at her, I slide in quietly.

"This is Amelia," Grace tells them, "this is Lily and Tessa."

"Heya," Tessa drawls in a thick Texan accent.

She's got deep brown skin that looks as smooth as a babies bottom. Her eyes are brown with hazel flecks, her hair is beautiful and braided all the way down to her lower back, her face perfectly proportioned. She's insanely pretty.

"Hey," I say back, giving her a smile.

"Brave move," Tessa says, "coming here for sixth form, they're gonna make you work for it!"

I laugh nervously, "who are?"

"The teachers, there's a lot we learn here that other schools don't."

"Really?" I ask, surprised.

"Yeah," Lily chimes in. She's got large shoulders, with heavily masculine features. Her brown hair is slicked back into a tight bun, her face makeup-less. She's got a slight Yorkshire accent. "I imagine they'll be all over you."

"Brilliant," I say, a little sarcastically.

Our conversation is stopped short as the group of girls next to us burst into a hive of activity, giggling and fixing their hair, their eyes darting to the doorway. I know it's Elijah causing a stir before I even turn around, but I'm not prepared for what happens when I do. He stood, all blonde hair and muscle, causing my heart to feel like it's constricting. He's surrounded by four other boys as he leans against the back wall, his arms crossed.

Butterflies swoop in.

"Who's he smiling at like that?" One of the girls near me hisses.

"Is it me?" Another asks.

"I think it might be me."

Grace lets out a gleeful laugh, "it's Amelia."

I let my eyes meet Elijah's and sure enough he's grinning at me.