The Right To Sophistication

Chapter 1

"Miss Sterling, what a pleasure it is to have you join our school," he shakes my hand, his fingers cold and clammy, "I feel you will be very comfortable here." I flinch at his words, I knew for a fact I wasn't going to be comfortable here.

"Yes," I say tersely, "I expect I will be too." Lies, I speak lies.

Smiling he hands me a stack of paper, "here is your time table and a map of the school. I expect you to attend all your classes, if you wish to pass your A Levels this year." I grit my teeth, passing my A levels was the last thing on my list. Switching high schools for my final year wasn't even my idea, it was my mothers. She wanted me to go to University and get a decent job, something she had never achieved. I wasn't concerned by my grades, I was a straight A student. What was concerning me was my social skills.

"Thank you," I say through pursed lips, as I take the papers out of his hand. Smiling at me, Principal Edmonton shows me out of his office and into the bustling hallway of Clipton High School.

He's watching me. I can feel his eyes on the back of my neck. Ducking my head, I keep walking. I was trying my hardest not to notice the stares I'm getting as I walk through the hallway. I may as well have a sign on my back that says NEW GIRL in bright red, by the amount of people who have stopped their conversations just to look at me. What was all the attention with new kids anyway? We hardly ever turn out to be interesting. Gripping my books tighting I hurry into the open door of my first class, English. Sighing, I flop into an empty seat in the back. I instantly relax when I see how empty it is, their were a few students sitting in the first to rows of desks and that was it.

"Hello students," a firm voice atracts my attention, turning to the front of the class I see a short lady with glasses perched on the end of her nose. I hadn't noticed her in my hurry to get to my seat.  "I will be your teacher this year and you will call me Mrs Palmer, I'm sorry I wasn't here for your first week back, but I expect we will get to know each other very well," she continues, everyone stares at her in silence, "don't all look at me like goldfish," she snaps, "I expect you'll all have your text books with you?" We nod in unison, "well then please open them and read through pages 56-61."

The sound of turning pages ripples through the classroom, and then silence as everyone settles into reading about the history of Shakespeare. I was half way through page 57 when the sound of the door opening catches my attention. Looking up I see him. The boy who had been watching me earlier in the corridor. He had a skateboard tucked loosely under his arm and I could see a head phone chord poking out from under his slouched hat.

"Mr Darren, you're late," Mrs Palmer says, standing up and handing him a slip of green paper, "you may be a sixth former Mr Darren but I can still give you lunch time detentions."

Grinning he takes the slip and walks down the isle to the back of the class and slides into the seat next to me. Throwing his bag on the floor he takes out a battered copy of the text book.

"What are you doing?" I hiss, wondering why on earth this boy was sitting next to me. He grins at me, the corners of his eyes crinkling when he smiles.

"Your sitting in my seat," he says simply, "so I decided to sit next to you."

"I can move?" I stutter out. I'm about to pick up my back when I feel his hand wrap gently around my wrist.

"No, stay. It's okay, it'll be good to have some company in the back of this class." He smiles lightly, running a hand through his tousled brown hair he turns back to his text book.

"You don't strike me as the type to attend this class," I whisper taking in his appearance fully. He was wearing ripped black skinny jeans with a loose white t-shirt. His hair was a mess and he smelled slightly of smoke.