The Granger Girls ✓

Eight

N I N A

I feel like I'm in a dream, as I walk through the doors of Hayford Independent for the very first time. The hustle and bustle makes my heart thud in anticipation, and like a little kid in a sweet shop, I take in every detail.

Hundreds of girls stand idly in the hallway, chatting and sipping hot drinks. They're all dressed in their school uniform – a black blazer, white blouse, and black and white check skirt - and most are armed with cups from Fashionably Latte, designer bags, and facial expressions which fall into one of two categories: they're either sneering as they whisper about someone they dislike, or smiling brightly as they laugh. The air here has a strong scent of floral perfume, hairspray, freshly brewed coffee, and lipstick, a mix which immediately gives away the fact that this is an all-girls school.

After less than a minute in the corridor, one of these girls approaches me. The first thing I notice about her is her body shape; she's short and spindly, and her blazer is far too big. Being only five-one and naturally thin myself, we're somewhat alike in that way, but this girl looks dishevelled and unhealthy, things I'm definitely not. Pushing any concerns – or judgement – away, I turn my focus to her face, and see that she has pale skin, big brown eyes, and blonde hair.

"Nina Parwaz?"

"That's me."

She sticks out her hand for me to shake.

"Welcome to Hayford. I'm Gracie Notting. We're in the same form group, so I volunteered to give you a tour of the school."

I nod in understanding, then follow Gracie down the corridor and round a corner. Falling back into excited new girl mode as we walk, this time I focus my attention on the building itself. Even the halls of this place are immaculate, painted white and decorated with Victorian and Edwardian art. It looks more like a stately home than a place of education.

"Here's the canteen," Gracie tells me after a couple of minutes, ushering to what looks like a series of high-end eateries, shrunken and pushed together to give students as many options as possible. Yet more beautiful girls stand pressed to the walls, eating pastries and checking their timetables. 

My tour guide turns to me and smiles.

"Food is available all day, and there's an amazing variety to suit even the pickiest eaters. Think Italian, French, American-diner style. Even Indian, which I'm sure you'll appreciate-"

"I'm Pakistani," I correct her, narrowing my eyes. 

Gracie stops talking, clearly embarrassed. She frowns, sticking out her bottom lip a little. Her face reminds me of a fish. 

I hope she's learnt a lesson today: don't assume things about strangers, especially not the kind of things that can be highly sensitive.

"Right, sorry," she apologises. "There's also a Costa coffee machine and Krispy Kreme doughnut stand."

I gaze across at the stand Gracie's referring to, and feel my stomach grumble. Krispy Kremes are my absolute favourite, and the sweet smell is practically beckoning me over.

"Can we go get doughnuts now?" I ask, unable to resist. "I know we should probably finish the tour, but I'd like to take a quick break if that's okay with you."

Gracie smiles, although I can tell it's forced; she's still embarrassed about her Indian food comment.

"Uh, yeah, that would be nice. Maybe I can get to know you a bit better as we eat," she replies.
"Yes," I agree. "I'd like that."

We head over to the Krispy Kreme stand. Since classes are about to start for most students, there's no queue, and so we don't have to wait to buy the Original Glazed doughnuts we both choose. We then select a table nearby, and sit down opposite one another. I look into Gracie's dark eyes – which are focused down on her food – and allow myself a small smile. We might not have gotten off to the best start, but she seems nice enough overall. Perhaps she could become a friend, or at least be useful in some way.