The wind rustled around the skin of the school as I lay on the floor shaking, cold and hungry. Forcing myself to get up, I ran to the door of the hall. My throat cracked when I realized I couldn't get it open; my hands just wouldn't grab the knob. Turning my body around, I let out a high pitched scream as John faced me from the middle of the hall. He cackled as I attempted to run away. But where to? I didn't know, I just kept running. As I ran, the door never seemed to appear closer as if I was running on the spot, only, I knew I wasn't. I stopped running and turned back around, staring at the empty hall, where John no longer stood.
"Dad?" I whispered. The room flashed and my Mom stood in his place. I wanted to cry, to tell her that I was scared, to hear her reply that everything would be okay, but the windows of the hall blasted open and the wind began to howl around us. I started running again, this time to my Mom, but as a huge gale of wind whipped across my face, she floated away slowly, disappearing into millions of pieces of dust. My fingers reached out to catch her, but they just ended up groping at air.
The wind stopped suddenly and the hall fell silent. The door that I'd tried to escape out of opened and a tall, thin woman walked in. The noise of her heels touching the floor, and the sound of my heart racing, was the only noise you could hear. Her light brunette hair was placed neatly in a bun, and her spectacles sat softly on the middle of her nose. She was wearing a suit; long, grey pencil skirt, and a white ruffled blouse, underneath the grey jacket. I didn't know who she was but she stopped in front of me and smiled, flashing a row of white, straight teeth, and greeted, "Welcome to Cobham Hall!"
My eyes flew open as I screamed. I rolled over - a little too far - and landed on the floor, yet, I continued to scream.
"What?! What?!" My Mom panicked, jumping out her bed and kneeling down beside me. She put her hand on my forehead, seeing that I was shaken by something. "It's okay, honey, calm down, you're alright."
John got out of bed too and came over to see what was wrong. "What's happened?"
I didn't want to talk to him after what I'd seen in my dream - or nightmare. After he'd appeared evil, I was scared of him.
"Mom, there was you, and John-" I glared at him -"And we were at the school, and the wind, and the teacher, and you disappeared, and I was running, and-"
"Stop babbling. I take it you had a bad dream?" My Mom said calmly.
I nodded and closed my eyes, thinking of cute puppies.
"There, there. It's time to get up anyway, you don't want to be late for your first day at -" she started, but I interrupted her.
"Don't say it. Please, for frick sake, do not say it," I begged.
"Don't talk like that. What's wrong with Cobham Hall?" John asked, after I just told them both not to say it.
"Everything!" I wept.
"It's your own fault," John grumbled.
And he was right.
We got ourselves showered and dressed, then left the room to go down for breakfast. John stuffed himself with a full English breakfast which consisted of fried eggs, sausages, bacon, mushrooms, beans, and tomato. He'd complimented the staff on how well they'd prepared it, while I'd sat embarrassed. I had toast with butter and jam, along with some apple juice. I didn't drink tea or coffee, nor ate cereal. My Mom had a mixture of what was offered; tea, toast, cereal, yoghurt and fruit.
After breakfast we went back up to the room, tidied up a little bit, then went back down and checked out. The receptionist called a 'taxi' for us and within five minutes there was a cab outside the Travelodge. John and Mom thanked the staff and we departed from the building.
The weather was much better, no longer freezing, not hot either, but decent. It was cloudy with a small breeze, but I could cope.
"Cobham Hall, Kent, please," John said to the driver.
"Sure thing," the fat sleaze responded.
The atmosphere smelled really bad. The driver stunk of sweat, the car smelled of mould, and the seats had holes in them where drunk people had had cigarettes and had burned the leather. I sat uncomfortably the whole time, spraying my disinfectant every few minutes.
"Now, here we are," pronounced the driver after about an hour of driving.
I sighed in relief. "Finally."
We drove into a long drive surrounded by trees. That drive then opened up into a large campus, and in the centre stood a huge building. Around it, though, was grass with flowers dotted about every so often. There were teenagers lining the building, probably chatting in their posh, English accents. They were all in uniform, and I knew for a fact that I would refuse to wear it.
"Beautiful," I heard my Mom breathe.
"Very," the driver agreed. "My son went to this school from the age of fourteen. Straightened him right out."
I didn't even need to see John's face to know that his eyebrows would be lifted in pleasure.
The fresh air, as I opened the car door, made me smile. Any longer in the taxi and I would have passed out. My Mom and I left John to pay the guy, and we made our way to the main school building, dragging my suitcases behind us. "How long am I gonna be here for?" I asked curiously.
"As long as it takes for you to sort out your act," she snapped.
I tutted. "Wow, don't get cranky, it was just a question."
A tall, thin woman came toward us with her hands held out welcomingly. "Welcome to Cobham Hall!"
The nightmare came back to me. She looked exactly like the lady in it and I panicked, thinking the nightmare was turning real.
She shook hands with my parents and waited for me to do the same, but I rejected her awaiting hand. "Anyway, let me introduce myself. I'm Mrs Davies, the headmaster of Cobham Hall. And you must be Taylor?"
I nodded. Her accent made me cringe. It didn't sound hot on females.
"Ah," she said. "Your father has warned me about what you are capable of, and I'm warning you right now, fair and straight, that Cobham Hall will not put up with any of your foul behaviour." She turned to face my parents. "I'm sure, by next term, you won't even recognize her as the mischievous young lady she is now."
John smiled in agreement. "Good, that's what we want."
I lost focus of the conversation and concentrated on the stares I was getting from the students. I had the urge to yell out that they should mind their own business, but I didn't as I realized they were not staring at me, but in fact, staring at my clothes. Since when did wearing skinny jeans, flip-flops, floral shirts, and sunglasses become shocking?
"Taylor, I'll give you a few minutes with your parents. Come inside to the reception and I'll get you sorted out," Mrs Davies explained, smiled, and walked away.
My Mom tried her hardest to smile, but we all knew she was finding this hard. "Please, Taylor, be good." She hugged me tightly and then warmed herself to John.
Now it was his turn. "Don't be mad at me. We all know it's for the best," he said, trying to come to terms with me.
I folded my arms and gazed at the grass. "Yeah, well, I'll be mad if I want to."
John pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. "Fine, but you can't stay mad at your Dad forever."
"Sure I can."
My Mom gave me one last hug and then they both got back into the taxi and drove off back to Gatwick Airport.
I stood alone outside due to the fact that everyone had gone in to their dorms to get ready for lunch. The stale, primitive building stood proudly, its corners beginning to break away slowly. Daring myself to inspect the inside, I strutted forward and into the reception.
Sure enough, like she'd said, Mrs Davies was there waiting. The room had a fragrance of chocolate mixed with roses and I sniffed a few times, enjoying it.
Mrs Davies smiled warmly and dumped a pile of objects in my arms. "Here's your timetable, a school map, your uniform, and the key to your room."
Like I'd said, no way was I wearing uniform. "Thanks, but here-" I handed her the uniform and the school map back- "I'm not gonna wear that, and I don't want to know my way around the scho-" She put a finger out in front of my mouth.
"Lesson number one, Taylor, be grateful for what you are given and do not refuse it. And I warned you about your behaviour, now I need to warn you about your attitude." She paused to make sure I was listening and continued, "Any attitude given to anyone, teacher or student, will certainly not be tolerated. Now, off you go." She waved me off toward a door to her left.
The door swung back after I'd walked through, hit me on the back, pushed me forward a few steps and caused me to drop my timetable and room key. "Gah, what the hell? No automatic doors in this country or something?" I muttered.
I crouched down slowly, trying not to touch the carpet, and scooped up my timetable and room key.
"Hey."
I turned around to the sound of a boy's voice behind me. "What? Did I come the wrong way?" I snapped.
His friendly smile turned into a frown. "Um, no, I was just saying hello. You're the American that everyone's been waiting for then?"
"Don't refer to me as 'the American'. And what's this about everyone's been waiting for me?" I was interested. I'd been here five minutes and already the school knew about me. Was that a bad thing or a good thing, though?
"Oh, sorry. No, it's not like that. We just heard from the head girl last week that there was an American coming. If I'm being honest, I've been excited. I love Americans!" His smile had returned and he was bouncing with excitement.
He seemed young, but sounded younger, like a ten year old. The English accent didn't sound sexy on him at all. Also, I screwed my nose up at his prestige uniform; ironed trousers and all that crap. "Good for you."
"Do you need any help? I could take your bags for you," he offered, leaning forward and picking up one of my suitcases.
I pulled the suitcase away from him. "No, I'm fine. I don't take help from ten year olds."
He looked offended. "I'm fourteen."
I laughed and then stopped when I realized he was serious. "Oh."
"Sorry, where are my manners. I'm Ben." He held out his hand. What was up with hand shaking here? They were all obsessed. "Never mind then..." He dropped his hand.
"Look, just show me where room-" I glanced at the fine, engraved number on the key-"Twenty-six is." I started to haul my suitcases through another door.
"Anything for you, hottie," he flirted.
I stopped, turned around and glared at him. He winked and I nearly gagged. "Ew, no chance. I'm seventeen, you're fourteen. It's not rocket science to know that nothing will ever happen between us. Ever."
He frowned but accepted the fact. "Give me some time; you'll be head over heels for me within a few weeks." And with that, he grabbed a hold of the handles on my suitcases and pulled them swiftly through the door.
I rolled my eyes. "Sure..."
"Just wait, you'll see."
"Yeah, I'd like to see the day I fall for some English fourteen year old," I responded.
He led me up a curved, wooden staircase. "See, you just admitted that you'd like to the see the day. You're falling for me already," he said smoothly.
"I'm not. Now, piss off about me falling for you," I grouched.
He paused and turned around. "You just swore!"
"So?"
"They don't put up with swearing here, so watch your mouth," he warned.
"Who are you to tell me to watch my mouth?" I demanded.
"I wasn't...I was just saying."
"Well, don't say."
We continued on with our journey to my room and after turning round a corner from the staircase and onto a long corridor, we stopped outside a door which had the number twenty-six engraved in big letters on it. He pulled my suitcases to a halt and pushed the handles down.
"Thanks," I muttered and turned my back on him. He stood watching me while I stuck the key into the keyhole. "What is your problem?" I snarled, not looking at him.
He replied automatically, "Nothing, I'm just making sure you get in."
I sighed. He was never gonna leave me alone, and I was gonna be stuck with a fourteen year old following my every move... "Look-" the door clicked -"I'm in, so leave."
"I'll see you at lunch," he called as he left the corridor.
Finally. I pushed my sunglasses up onto my forehead and turned the door handle slowly. Three girls sitting on beds caught my eye as I wadded in with my suitcases. They eyed me curiously. "Hey, um, you all need to leave."
They sat quietly, waiting for an explanation.
"This is my room?" I said, half explanatory; half questioningly.
They all burst into fits of giggles and that was when I noticed the empty bed in the corner. "Oh," I said in dismay.
"It's the bed in the corner, or the corridor. Your choice," a girl with long, curly black hair said. She came over and helped me drag my suitcases toward the bed. "Alexandra," she introduced after we threw the suitcases onto my bed-to-be. "But, everyone calls me Alex."
"Cute," I said sarcastically. "Taylor." I sat down slowly on the uncomfortable rock-of-a-bed. All three of them watched me, and I could tell they were hiding laughter.
"Anyway," Alex continued. "That's Alice." She nodded toward a tall, brunette, short-haired girl, who stood against the back wall.
Alice waved enthusiastically. "Hi!"
I didn't reply, choosing to get the point across to them that I didn't want to become friends.
"And that's Elizabeth, but we call her Lizzy."
The natural blonde girl, who looked younger, smiled fondly. "Do you need any help with unpacking?"
"No, I got it," I said, beginning to unzip my suitcase. It revealed exactly what I'd packed; clothes that would be of no use here. Alice and Lizzy giggled to themselves, but Alex glared at what was underneath the clothes. Bottles and bottles of alcohol. "What? I might get thirsty," I said, in answer to her glare.
Alex picked up a bottle and examined it carefully. "You know, in Britain we have this amazing thing. It's called a tap," she stated.
I snatched the bottle back from her. "Yeah, but water tastes plain," I replied and then added, "It's boring, like you."
She sighed. "You do know, having an attitude here won't get you anywhere apart from the detention room."
I rolled my eyes. "I've heard."
"Good, just double-checking."
"Only losers double-check," I stabbed.
"We're not losers. We are loyal, sophisticated and sensible young adults," she explained.
What the hell did she say? Sounded like a bunch of posh words... "That's a good idea," I said in hope that it would make sense to what she'd explained. Unfortunately, it wasn't.
Alex looked at me strangely. "Okay..."
"Where the hell is my closet?" I questioned, taking note of the bare walls which should've been covered by closets.
"What the hell is a closet?" Alex muttered.
Lizzy shuffled over beside us and elbowed Alex. "You're forgetting, she's American," she notified.
Were they being racist? "What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded.
"I was talking about the way you talk..." Lizzy mumbled.
"What's wrong with the way I talk?"
She stole a glance at Alex, probably hoping for some backing up. "Words are different in America," she finally answered.
"Is that a bad thing?" I pressed.
"No, I was just...reminding her," she smiled.
Alice finally came bounding over, her brunette hair falling across her eyes. "Alex, you dipshit. A closet is the American word for a cupboard."
Alex's face light up. "Oh!"
I sighed. "Get used to my accent cause I don't care if you don't understand me, I'm not converting to English words."
"...not our fault," I heard Alice mumble.
The three of them went back to sitting on their beds. Alice whipped out a magazine from under her pillow, flopped down onto her stomach and began to read. Alex pulled out a diary from her school bag and studied today's date. Lizzy started laying out her other school uniform on her bed. They had more than one set of uniform?
"Shit!" Alex exclaimed suddenly.
"What?" Lizzy asked.
Alex flipped a page in her diary back and forth. "Oh, nothing," she laughed. "I thought I'd forgotten to do some homework, but turns out I was looking at the wrong date."
"What. A. Rebel," I gasped sarcastically, saying each word slowly on their own.
She slapped her diary shut and slammed it down onto her bedside table. "Look, what is your problem?" she growled.
Alice dropped her magazine and watched us with a waiting-for-something-bad-to-happen expression.
"Stating the obvious," I smirked. "But, seriously, you nearly forgot your homework, big deal!"
"It is a big deal, I want to get into college," she informed.
"Good for you. It's just a pity that I don't give a shit."
"Aw, that's funny," she smiled, getting up off her bed and walking to the door. "I'm totally laughing my ass off here."
"I can tell," I remarked.
There was a creak from the door and she was gone. The door swung back on it's hinges and made a small slam.
Lizzy and Alice exchanged glances and nodded. Lizzy hopped over while Alice rolled off her bed sideways.
"Look, we're gonna tell you this for your own safety," Alice began and she walked over.
Lizzy put a hand on my shoulder and pushed me down onto my bed, her and Alice sitting down with me.
"Try not to annoy Alex, she can get pretty aggravated, as you just saw," Alice warned.
Lizzy rolled up her blouse sleeve and brushed her fingers over a deep, purple bruise. It was the size of a fist, set deeply in her arm, near her elbow. She'd obviously been punched and I came to the conclusion that it was Alex that did it. The bruise disappeared again as the blouse sleeve rolled down.
Alice took a deep breath. "You may think Alex is the one in charge and knows everything, but she's new."
"What?" I asked, confused.
"Yeah, she's new. She's been here for about three months, up until then it was just me and Lizzy."
Lizzy smiled fondly when I glanced round at her.
"Alex came from London," Alice began again. "She kept getting into fights at school, so that's why she was sent here."
I found it impossible to imagine Alex as the rough type that would get into fights. "Physical fights or just argumentative fights?" I asked curiously.
"Physical," Lizzy replied.
"Wow," I breathed.
"Anyway, she came in and thought she ruled the place. Lizzy and I kept offering her a hand in anything she might've needed help with, but she'd turned around and slapped me, then pushed Lizzy over a box. Lizzy sprained her ankle and everything," Alice explained in sympathy. "We left her alone for a while and she got so depressed about everything, it was horrible. We used to come back from classes and find her lying on the windowsill crying, mascara running down her face and all. Lizzy had the stupidity to laugh at her panda eyes and got herself another push over a box," Alice laughed, glaring at Lizzy at the same time.
"Oh," I mumbled, still in shock.
"She was kind of like you in a way - had attitude, never did homework, didn't take shit from no-one, always got into trouble. Eventually, she learned that if she kept going the way she was, she'd end up nowhere in life. Then, one day she was in school uniform, turned up at class and didn't get in trouble once. But then, this idiot right here went away and asked her what caused her to get into fights. This was about two weeks ago, so Alex was so close to forgetting about the past, but then when Lizzy brought it up, she got angry and punched her. The bruise is still there, as you saw," Alice frowned. "Now, she's so caught up in trying to get her life intact. She thinks she's the best and more experienced here because she's smarter than us two, so she takes control over situations. We'd never dare tell her to stop being so bossy."
"Taylor, please, don't push her. We want her the way she is now, not the way she was when she first arrived. Please, Taylor," Lizzy pleaded.
I felt guilty and sympathetic for the majority of the time of which Alice was explaining nearly the whole of Alex's life story. Then, I remembered that I wasn't going to be here for long, so while I was here I could torment Alex since it wouldn't make a difference to me once I was gone. "Yeah, whatever," I finally agreed
I could tell this was going to be a few weeks to remember.