School For The Aphrodisiacs (No Longer Continuing)

Chapter 1 - St Emmanuels:

Luna's picture to the side.

Chapter 1 – St Emmanuels:

I handed the correct amount of cash to the taxi driver as I thanked him and got out of the cab, staring up at the gates that lead to America’s most prestigious boarding school. Ever since word had gotten around the world that I’d broken the record, over the summer – I’d been receiving mail about scholarships for high class schools in America and some from London too. I didn’t even think about it, I’d instantly accepted the invitation from St Emmanuels’ all girl boarding school.

They’d payed for my flight from Maine to Rochester in New York. I would have been at school for the start of my senior year, but I’d managed to misplace my luggage and look like I had a bag of coke shoved up my fanny. Then they found out that I was wearing two pairs of underwear and had a tampon on. So I got stuck for a couple days in the airport; but managed to get out of there with my belongings and sanity. I’d only just arrived as I’d somehow gotten lost in the city – then I hailed a taxi, which set me back about twenty dollars.

The tall, dominant gates screamed money as I looked up the daunting path to a humongous, old building that was made of bricks. Ivy was lazily creeping up the walls and of the building that could have been related to the Notre Dame.

My eyes caught onto the card slots on the smaller gate. I took out my ID card that came in the mail after my accepting and slid it into the hole. It beeped green and the metal gate bumped open. My hand hauled my bag in behind me as I took notice of the grounds after shutting the gate.

Ancient trees lined the drive way, which led up to a small roundabout with a fountain in the middle, the grass lush and green. I suddenly felt poor. But then it occurred to me that there had to be other sport scholarship students that attended and I tried to keep my nerves at a moderately regular level.

I dragged the roller bag with a duffle on top of it, up the meters long driveway. It was a very pretty place, and the maple trees dotted around were turning a vibrant shade of orange. It was early autumn, and the air was perfect.

I was wearing my pair of jeans that weren’t ripped and a yellow t-shirt with my dark combat boots; hoping I looked slightly normal. They wouldn’t be prancing around in cocktail dresses during the day – would they? I suppose it didn’t really matter what I wore or what they thought of me. I was here to run.

My legs carried me up to the building where a lady in a dress suit stood proudly and well postured. I almost immediately straightened up as she came into my view. She smiled at me and held out a hand to me. I looked around with wide eyes, then took her hand and scratched the back of my neck.

“It’s such a pleasure to meet you, Ms Coyote. Please, come in.” She gestured towards the two extravagant wooden doors that lead to the lobby. Once inside, I took a moment to gawk unprofessionally at everything. The floor and stairs were carved of marble, the rails of metal and the walls of polished wood. It was simply beautiful. I didn’t even like chandeliers or shiny things such as cut glass; but the antique chandelier that hung elegantly above my head two or three floors was breath taking.

“Do you like it?” She asked with a smile in her voice. All I did was grunt in appreciation as I continued my look. Three corridors extended from the left and right of the double stair case; one down the middle which lead to a mess hall – courtesy of a sign. “You have your schedule, correct?”

I turned and looked up at the tall lady in her early fifties, “Yes, ma’am.”

“And it’s to your satisfactory?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled warmly, “Good. You shouldn’t have missed much since it’s only the first week. You are aware of the days off and curfews?”