What the cause of my parent’s newest idea was, is something I’m not yet sure of. I hadn’t taken them completely seriously when they had pitched their idea to me one Sunday night, but now, sitting next to the three suitcases my mom had taken the liberty of packing for me; I realise their sincerity. Perhaps I should’ve realised they were taking this seriously before tonight; the night before I’m due to leave.
“Sweetheart,” my mom sighs. I glance at her, not even realising that she had been speaking to me.
“Your cousin Marilyn attended Cawdor a few years ago, and she seemed to really enjoy it! I’m sure you’ll find it much the same,” my dad’s words aren’t very encouraging, but I appreciate his attempt at comfort.
Marilyn was an overly chirpy girl; bleached blonde, red nailed, sharp mouthed and just four years older than me. Now, she works at a high-end law firm somewhere up state and, being 21, left Cawdor Boarding School two years ago. If everyone at Cawdor is like Marilyn; I’ll be returning home sooner than my parents think.
“Oh,” my voice sounded a lot more enthusiastic in my head – it often does.
My parents are hushed, and my mom looks defeated. I don’t see why she should be feeling defeated – I am the defeated one in this situation. I am the one that came home from the store this morning to be informed that my bags had been packed for the ‘trip’ tomorrow. When I asked what this ‘trip’ consisted of, I was met with accusing stares. Apparently my parents have been telling me all about this amazing boarding school somewhere south of Maryland, where I currently live, for months now. I tend to drift off when they’re speaking to me, so I wasn’t all that surprised when I found out I had missed the moment they told me I would be attending Cawdor Boarding School for the next year.
Despite how much I protested, it’s happening. Now, I just need to get on board.
The air is humid, and my forehead feels like anything that comes into contact with it will be met with first-degree burns.
It takes barely three minutes for us to unload my bags from the car, and it takes a lot of will power not to grab them and sprint—but I don’t. I spent eight hours in the car with my parents, with multiple motel stops on the way, to get to this ‘prestigious’ school. It’s safe to say I’ve never been so keen to leave them.
“Would you like me to come inside with you? I’ll help you unpack? I’m sure your roommate won’t mind!” My mom doesn’t give me a chance to respond before she is marching ahead of me. I shoot a panic stricken glance towards my dad and he jogs after her, reaching for her arm.
They mutter between themselves for several moments before my mom turns to me; her emerald eyes glistening. “I’m gonna miss you, sweetie.”
I’m engulfed in a rather uncomfortable hug, which lasts several seconds longer than I would like, but I grin and bear it. My mother and I are close, and I was going to be leaving her for a reasonably long time—I knew this was hard for her.
But, five minutes later, I’m walking through a pristine glass entrance, trying to ignore the exhausted looking girl in my reflection; her hair stuck unattractively to her forehead. The people around me look much the same—maybe a little less red in the face. I assume they have been here long enough to consider these temperatures ‘normal’.
The room was an unpleasant surprise. The blue walls were cracked, and the carpet was an unappealing shade of green. There were two beds—thankfully—and the one next to the door was already occupied by a large box of clothes. I wonder where my roommate is, but shake it off. It’s easier to unpack and get the feel of the room without someone I need to introduce myself to.
I set my bags down by the large window and lean back onto the surprisingly soft bed. There is a small chest in the corner next to my bed, where I assume I will put my clothes, and a small lamp next to it. A wooden door faces my roommate’s bed, and when I kick the door open apprehensively, I discover it’s the bathroom. I’m faced with a tiny shower, toilet and sink, and an ugly oval shaped rug on the tiled floor. I can see why my parents were pleased with the fees this place required.
As I stare at the cracks in the tiles, a hushed voice stills me.
“Shit… hello?” the voice gets louder, and I quickly spin on my heels, exiting the bathroom.
Standing next to my bed is a short, curvy girl with shiny, black hair stopping at her shoulders. She is wearing a very low cut tank top with cropped jeans, and a huge smile on her bare face.
“’I’m Alexandrea, but you can call me Alex,” she announces in a friendly tone. “Sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived, I was just checking out the rooms opposite and making sure it’s a Chelsea-free-zone.”
I ignore the fact that I don’t know who Chelsea is, or why Alex doesn’t like her, and grin back at her. “I’m Lola.”
We sit opposite each other on our beds for a few minutes, and I discover she is originally from Arizona, she is a borderline Virgo, she has had a grand total of six boyfriends and that she has no problem revealing the many skeletons in her closet to a girl who appeared in her dorm five minutes ago.
“Shoot, I was actually planning on heading over to my boyfriend’s dorm for a couple of hours—d’ya want to come?” Her smile is almost infectious. Not wanting to look like the anti-social enthusiast I truly am, I nod, standing up.
“Mike’s room is just down the hall. We’re not really supposed to visit after, like, eight? But I usually just sneak out later, so…” Alex grabs her phone from her bed and moves towards the door, pulling it open and waiting for me in the hallway.
‘Just down the hall’ turned out to be a long walk with several corners, elevators and doors. However, Alex kept the walk interesting with some strange stories about her boyfriend and his friends.
“So they’re all from the same place in Sydney, but they decided to come all the way here for college together. Isn’t that awesome?” I nod curiously.
“That’s cool I guess,” I try to chip into the conversation occasionally to avoid being labelled completely mute, but I doubt she hears me anyway.
“Oh yeah, I’m pretty sure his friends will be here too but don’t worry—they’re cool. They’ll probably interrogate you before they let you into our group, but I’ll put in a good word.” Alex glances at me to make sure I’m aware that she’s kidding.
I feel her sharp nails dig into my wrist and suddenly I’m pulled backwards, standing in front of a narrow, pale brown door.
Alex taps the door three times, before pausing and tapping twice. I almost laugh but before I can, the door is pulled open and a flash of red catches my attention.
hi! this is a story which i've been writing for a while and i just wanted to publish it and see if anyone likes it :) this chapter's just getting to know the character a little bit so it's not very exciting, but i have the next few chapters written so if anyone likes this i'll post them soon. they get better!
anyway i really like luke hemmings a lot (next week i'll probably really like michael clifford a lot it changes every day)
thanks for reading :)