New York, Manhattan. That was my new home starting today. I had just arrived at my new boarding school (Dorsia College) and I had absolutely no idea where to go. This college was unique, to say the least. Think of it as a second chance for students who didn't quite meet the grade requirements for university. By studying at this boarding college for one year and graduating, we would be given UCAS points as we liked to call them back in the UK. This was my last chance to get a music degree and I wasn't going to let anything distract me.
The colleges' population was quite low. I'd say that there were approximately one hundred students.
I hesitantly walked up to an old, angry-looking teacher who's blonde hair was beginning to turn grey.
"Um, excuse me?" I asked politely.
He raised an eyebrow at my accent.
"Yes, what is it?" He asked, his voice even moodier than his face.
"I'm new here", I stated the obvious and cursed in my head at my foolishness.
"Everyone is", he said, as if mocking me, "You don't know where to go, I take it?"
"Yes, that's correct", I bit my lip nervously because he was raising his voice.
He snatched my dormitory key that I was fiddling with in my hand and glanced at it.
"168B. Go down that hall", he gestured towards a hallway, "Take a left, a right and go forward until you find the number".
"Thank you", I quickly thanked him and began walking quickly towards the hall but I stopped when I heard him clearing his throat behind me to get my attention.
I spun around with curiosity. I had to think fast when he tossed me my keys back but luckily I caught them.
"Mr Smith, for your information", he muttered, "Deputy head".
I nodded and continued my route to my dorm.
I'm Chelsea Lakes, by the way and I'm eighteen years old. My mum is a violin tutor and my dad is a librarian. I was always mostly known in my old school for having abnormally long hair which reached my thighs, and I have mossy green eyes. But, overall, I am quite a strange person. I can be quite a control freak and overly clean, not to mention I am also obsessed with my health.
I triumphantly smiled when I found the right door. 168B. I loved the number already. I swung open the door, all set to unpack but I stopped in my tracks when my eyes landed on a girl (roughly the same age as me) getting dressed. She was only in her shorts and bra.
"Oh, my goodness. I'm so sorry", I cringed, covering my eyes.
"Oh, hey!" She squealed happily, walking over to me whilst her top view was still only in underwear, "I'm Alison! Sorry, hold on".
Alison had blonde, curly hair at a medium length and blue eyes. She had a perfect posture.
She quickly scuttled over to a pink shirt and threw it on. Then, unexpectedly, she squeezed me into a tight hug.
"What's your name, honey?" Alison asked sweetly.
"Chelsea Lakes", I coughed out, my lungs hurting from the tightness of her hug.
"I love your accent", she complimented, "I think you're the only British person here. Hey, let's see your timetable because I lost mine".
I got out my college timetable out of my bag and handed it to her.
"I haven't even looked at it myself yet", I laughed.
Alison grabbed my hand and yanked me to sit down next to her on a chair. She placed the timetable down on a desk and we both stared at it.
--- --- ---
Week A-
Monday: Science | English | Maths
Tuesday: Physical Ed | Music | French
Wednesday: English | Information Tech | Geography
Thursday: Technology | Physical Ed | Science
Friday: German | Maths | History
Week B-
Monday: RE | Drama | Maths
Tuesday: Science | English | Physical Ed
Wednesday: Art | French | Maths
Thursday: Geography | History | English
Friday: Technology | German | French
--- --- ---
"Ouch, we have triple French", Alison sympathised.
"I actually quite like French", I confessed which made her look half shocked and half confused. I think she thought that I was kidding because she started laughing, "We?"
"Yeah, you're in form G with me", Alison explained, "That means we have all the same lessons".
"Oh, right", I nodded, understanding, "By the way, why doesn't it say who our teachers are? I hope to God we don't have that Mr Smith teacher I just met".
"No, silly, we have the same teacher for everything", Alison laughed.
"What?" I asked, "I thought that was primary school stuff".
"Well, this college is different", Alison smiled, "Welcome to Manhattan".
"So, who is our teacher then?" I questioned.
"I don't know, some guy called...Mr Bates?" Alison asked herself, "No, no. Mr Bateman, that's it. I don't know him though".
My eyes drifted from Alison to the wall clock.
"What time does Science start?" I asked.
"Nine o clock", Alison replied.
"Alison", I said, "It's half nine".
"Shit!" Alison cursed and grabbed her stuff, practically dragging me behind her.
We ran to our Science room and burst in, receiving several stares from people.
"Ah, hello, Mr Bateman", Alison smiled, "So sorry we're late".
"I'm Mr Davidson...?" He said in more of a questioning tone.
"This is Science, form G?" Alison asked, a crease in her forehead.
"No, this is Science, form A", Mr Davidson corrected her.
Alison thrusted my timetable in my face.
"Look, we're in the right place", Alison moaned, "It says room S9".
"Alison, that's a 6. S6", I said as nicely as possible.
"Holy c-" Alison started but stopped when Mr Davidson started glaring at her, "...cow. Come on, Chelsea".
I gave Mr Davidson an apologetic smile as we shut the door and left the room. Then, we ran into the (hopefully) correct room which was S6.
A man with neat, combed, brown hair and brown eyes turned to look at us.
"Who are you?" Alison asked, straight to the point and ready to try another room.
"Mr Bateman", he said, a small smirk playing upon his lips as he watched us pant from running around the whole bloody school.
"Oh, thank the heavens!" Alison celebrated, "Sorry we're late sir. We got...lost".
"Don't worry about it", Mr Bateman shrugged, "You two can sit over there".
We glanced at the only empty two-seated table and quickly went to it and sat down.
"Names?" Mr Bateman asked, not taking his eyes off of a clipboard in his hands.
"Alison Fields", Alison announced proudly.
"Chelsea Lakes", I said, a little less proudly.
"Alright", Mr Bateman nodded, writing on the clipboard and then throwing it back on a table, "Our topic is looking after yourself; what workouts to do, how to keep your skin perfect and all the rest".
Mr Bateman kept talking and Alison looked up at him as if she was only just noticing his appearance for the first time.
"Holy mother of all that is Holy, it looks like Heaven has dropped down an angel", Alison drooled.
I laughed at her choice of words.
"What?" I asked, not understanding.
"He's fucking gorgeous", Alison pointed out.
"Is he?" I tilted my head, looking at Mr Bateman properly.
I suppose she was right. He had a great haircut, fine muscles, perfect teeth, spotless skin. A dashing black suit and a beautiful Rolex watch. But there was just something about his eyes. Whenever he smiled, his mouth smiled but his eyes were just dead. And sometimes it looked like he was just glaring into the distance about something when a student was answering a question.
"So, in order to be healthy and look good, everyone should really have an everyday morning routine", Mr Bateman explained, "For example, I'll tell you mine. In the morning if my face is a little puffy I'll put on an ice pack while doing stomach crunches. I can do 1000 now. After I remove the ice pack I use a deep pore cleanser lotion. In the shower I use a water activated gel cleanser, then a honey almond body scrub, and on the face an exfoliating gel scrub. Then I apply an herb-mint facial mask which I leave on for 10 minutes while I prepare the rest of my routine. I always use an after shave lotion with little or no alcohol, because alcohol dries your face out and makes you look older. Then moisturizer, then an anti-aging eye balm followed by a final moisturizing protective lotion".
Wow. He was even more obsessive than I was.
He walked around to the back of the room with his hands behind his back. It was only just then that I realised he was standing directly behind me.
"It looks like Chelsea also has a good morning routine", Mr Bateman smiled down at me, "Especially with the skin. Just a small tester-"
Without warning, I felt Mr Bateman's hand graze against my cheek for a few seconds. Alison cheekily winked at me.
"Yes, well I was correct", Mr Bateman smiled satisfactorily, resuming his place back at the front of the class.
At that exact moment, the bell rang and Science was officially over.
"Well, that went quickly", Alison commented, packing her stuff back into her bag.
"Maybe that's because we missed half of it", I replied, laughing slightly.
Once everyone started standing up, Mr Bateman didn't say a word and he sat down into his chair to begin staring obsessively at his laptop but his eyes weren't moving which meant he wasn't reading anything and he wasn't typing anything. Just...staring.
I watched him curiously for a few seconds until Alison grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the room.
"Can you come with me to meet a few of my friends?" Alison asked.
"Okay", I nodded.
We walked onto the field and met up with two girls and three boys.
"Chelsea, this is Courteney", Alison pointed to a dark haired girl with green eyes.
"This is Kacey", Alison pointed to another girl who had light brown short hair and brown eyes.
"This is Ryan", Alison continued, gesturing towards a boy with flicky brown hair and blue eyes.
"This is James", Alison said. James had neat brown hair and hazel eyes.
"And this is Jason", Alison finished. Jason had blondish hair and brown eyes.
They all smiled welcomingly at me and I smiled back.
"Guys, this is Chelsea", Alison announced, "We just had Science".
"Ah, lucky", Kacey said, enviously, "Courteney and I just had damn PE. So, we are gonna go and have a shower. Catch up with you guys later and it's great to meet you, Chelsea".
"You too", I smiled.
Kacey and Courteney linked arms and went to the changing rooms.
"You know what, we'd better go as well", Alison said to the boys, clinging onto my arm, "We were late last lesson so I'd rather not be for this one. Chelsea, what lesson do we have next?"
"English", I answered.
"Yes, I love English!" Alison celebrated, "Bye, Ryan. Bye, James. Bye, Jason".
Alison said 'bye, Jason' much more seductively and flirtatiously than the rest of them. I even noticed her sending Jason a little wink.
When we were far away enough from the boys so that they could not hear us, I asked for details.
"There's nothing going on with Jason and I", Alison laughed, almost as if the thought of it was hysterical, "We just flirt, that's all. And maybe more if we feel like it. But we are only ever friends".
"So, you're friends with benefits?" I asked.
"I guess you could say that", Alison nodded slightly, a small smile on her face before she quickly changed the subject, "Right, let's go to English!"
We were actually five minutes early this time alongside three other people who looked like they were always early because they looked used to it.
Mr Bateman looked surprised when he saw us.
"New change of personality?" He asked, "Why are you two suddenly here-"
He paused and glanced at his Rolex watch.
"-four minutes and twenty seven seconds early?" Mr Bateman continued.
"We just wanted to get started quickly, sir", Alison smiled.
"Do you like English?" Mr Bateman asked, his eyes on me.
"Yes, I love it", I answered.
"Me, I prefer teaching PE rather than anything else", Mr Bateman said, "I do like English though. But it doesn't beat music".
"You like music?" I asked.
"You could say that", Mr Bateman smirked to himself as if he knew something that no one else did.
"What do you-" I started but was interrupted by a huge amount of people bursting into the room.
Mr Bateman smiled at me knowingly before going to sit down in his desk chair. Once everyone had sat down, Mr Bateman got out something from his drawer.
"Uh, you can talk amongst yourselves for about ten minutes", Mr Bateman said.
Everyone cheered and said things like 'you're awesome, sir' and 'yes, we have a decent teacher for once'.
I watched him as he pulled out a Walkman and a black pair of headphones. He put a tape in the Walkman, plugged in the headphones, rested his head onto his hands and sighed deeply. Strange man.
I wondered what song he was listening to. The Beatles? ELO? The Smiths? He struck me as a man who had good music taste.
He leant back into his chair and glared at the back wall. I sat there and squinted at him with suspiciousness whilst simply ignoring the sound of the blur as Alison rambled on about something in the background. For a few seconds, he met my gaze and returned the same questioning look. But he eventually looked away again to put on some hand sanitiser.
He stared at the table for a few seconds before strangely licking his hand and brushing back his hair with his own saliva. Putting his hand over his mouth with absent mindedness, he started nodding, but only in the slightest, as if he was listening to something else other than his music. Some kind of voice in his head. He removed his hand, closed his eyes for a few seconds and sighed quickly before taking off his headphones in one impressively fluent motion.
Then, he stood up again, his somehow fed-up expression completely changing into a sophisticated one. This just made me all the more curious.
"English", Mr Bateman announced as he clapped his hands together once, "Everyone in this room is going to say their favourite thing about English. You. Go".
He enthusiastically pointed to someone at the front left corner. She said something about writing books. Some overly hard-working girl said how she liked to use clauses and good punctuation. A desperate-to-be-funny guy said nothing which got a few sniggers from his friends behind him. Then, it got to Alison.
"I like writing poems", Alison said.
Mr Bateman nodded and then looked at me. Shit, I hadn't even thought of what I was going to say.
"I, um, like to express my words by narrating things", I said at the top of my head.
"Care to elaborate?" Mr Bateman asked, staring at me with sudden interest written in his eyes.
"Well, the things I don't want to say aloud, I say inside my head", I explained, "And I narrate things in my head as I do them as if it was a book or something. I don't know. It's stupid".
A few people cruelly laughed at me but I ignored them. Mr Bateman half smiled at me.
"I can relate", Mr Bateman said under his breath loud enough for me to hear.
He told the person in front of me to say what he liked about English but, all the while she was talking, he never once took his intriguing eyes off of me.
For the rest of the lesson, we learnt about the differences between the alternative genres of writing. Mr Bateman got particularly excited about the thriller/ murder genre.
Once the bell had gone, Alison and I walked out of the room but we were stopped by a random teacher.
"Hi, girls", he said, "I was just wondering if you have seen Marcu-um, I mean, Mr Halberstram around lately?"
Alison answered the question for me by saying 'no' but in a much longer version. God knew that she liked to talk. Whilst she was still talking, I curiously look at this teacher who had just came out of nowhere. His name tag read 'Paul Allen'. As much as this man irritated me for some strange reason, I had to say that his name tag font was impressive. Maybe that's why I didn't like him.
Whilst I was glaring at 'Mr Allen', Mr Bateman walked out of his room.
"Marcus!" Mr Allen greeted him.
Mr Bateman stared at him strangely for a few seconds but he hid his expression by covering it up with a smile.
"How's Cecilia?" Mr Allen asked, "She's a great girl".
"She is", Mr Bateman nodded, obviously humouring Mr Allen and how he mistook his identity, "I'm a very lucky man".
"Mmhm", Mr Allen nodded, "Well, it's good to talk to you again, Marcus. You should call me and we should make dinner plans one day".
Mr Allen handed Mr Bateman a business card and I noticed him glare at it.
"Okay, bye, Paul", Mr Bateman said through gritted teeth.
Mr Allen walked off.
"Come on, Chelsea!" Alison tugged me away.
I looked back at Mr Bateman and watched as he scrunched up the business card, threw it on the floor and muttered 'dickhead'. So, that made two of us who didn't like him.
"Let's go and meet the rest", Alison suggested and I nodded in response, "Are you alright? You've been in a different world for the whole of the lesson".
"I'm fine, Alison, I'm just letting my suspicions interfere with everything", I explained apologetically, "Bad habit".
"Oh, I totally know what you mean", Alison said, "Once, Jason kept flirting with me and all I could be suspicious about was whether he was only being friends with me for sex or maybe he really liked me or whatever. Is that what you meant?"
"Yes, Alison, that is absolutely what I meant", I said sarcastically in a monotone voice but she was completely oblivious to my sarcasm.
"Yeah, it sucks", Alison nodded, sighing with annoyance at whatever was going on between her and Jason.
We made our way towards the dining hall and joined the table where Kacey, Courteney, Jason, Ryan and James were sitting.
"Hey, Alison, Chelsea", Jason greeted us both as we sat down on the table, "How was English?"
"Oh, it was brilliant", Alison replied happily, "Mr Bateman is so great. He let us talk for the first ten minutes of the lesson. Plus, he's shockingly attractive".
I noticed Jason wincing at the attractive part and that was when I knew he liked her. As in, he liked her.
"Chelsea, what do you think of this Bateman guy?" Jason asked.
"I'm not so sure", I answered honestly, "He seems quite troubled. There's something really strange about him but I don't know what it is".
"Woah, a British accent", James acknowledged as if truly noticing me for the first time, "I love British accents".
"James, roll your tongue back into your mouth", Courteney remarked, laughing at him, "I highly doubt that she's interested".
"So, Alison, do you have the hots for your teacher?" Jason asked, glancing down at the table.
"Jason, it's okay to say that someone is cute without having a crush on them", Alison laughed, "Plus, liking a teacher? Eugh!"
Relief washed over Jason's face as he smiled back at Alison.
The hour went by really quickly and we all just talked about how we were enjoying college. The next thing I knew, we were heading to Maths.
"I really don't like Maths", I admitted.
"Tell me about it, Miss Cliché", Alison smiled, "But, yeah, me neither".
We miserably trudged into our Maths class and we were, yet again, early and joined by the other early ones like last time who were preparing notes.
Mr Bateman was sketching something in his notepad but he was scribbling a little too aggressively. I so badly wanted to see what he was drawing but fear stopped me.
Alison and I sat down next to each other and, eventually, everyone began arriving.
Mr Bateman stood up and groaned. Not a Maths fan either, I guess.
"You there", Mr Bateman pointed to a highly intelligent girl who sat at the front of the class, "Explain what's so great about Maths (if you can)".
The girl (whose name turned out to be Mandy) happily stood up and began going on and on about Maths. I think it was safe to say that nobody was listening. Alison even excused herself to the bathroom because she was that bored.
Mr Bateman folded his arms and began walking around the room again like he did in Science right before he touched my cheek with his hand. Funnily enough, he (once again) stopped directly behind me.
He leant back against the wall behind me, his arms still crossed.
"Now moving onto to Algebra", Mandy continued, "If x equals 2 and y equals 4 then what is two x plus three y?"
"Who the hell cares?" Mr Bateman muttered under his breath so that only I could hear him.
I turned around to face him and he smirked down at me with humour. I returned the smile and then I turned back around.
"The answer is 16", Mandy answered her own question because nobody else wanted to, "Algebra is great because..."
I felt Mr Bateman nudge my shoulder lightly. I turned around again, looking at him expectantly.
"You like Huey Lewis and the News?" Mr Bateman randomly asked out of nowhere, making sure to keep his voice quiet.
"What?" I asked.
"Earlier today at the start of English, you asked if I liked music", Mr Bateman explained, "Yes, I do. I gather you do too. So, do you?"
"Yes, I love music", I replied.
"No, no, no, no, no", Mr Bateman smiled, "Do you like Huey Lewis and the News?"
"I like their early work", I answered, feeling a little unsure.
Mr Bateman wrinkled his nose at my answer. He came next to me and sat in Alison's empty chair. She had been in the toilet for ten whole minutes now.
"Their early work was a little new wave for my taste", Mr Bateman began, "But when Sports came out in '83, I think they really came into their own, commercially and artistically. The whole album has a clear, crisp sound, and a new sheen of consummate professionalism that really gives the songs a big boost. He's been compared to Elvis Costello, but I think Huey has a far more bitter, cynical sense of humour".
"Wow, you really know your stuff", I commented.
"In '87, Huey released their most accomplished album", Mr Bateman continued, "I think their undisputed masterpiece is "Hip To Be Square". A song so catchy, most people probably don't listen to the lyrics. But they should, because it's not just about the pleasures of conformity and the importance of trends. It's also a personal statement about the band itself".
"Fair point", I nodded, "However, you're referring to their third album. Their first two albums; Huey Lewis and the News and Picture This was how they began their career. Every band starts off less brilliant than how they finish. What about their second album song; Change of Heart? That's a classic!"
"Touché", Mr Bateman nodded, looking impressed.
Before he could say anything else, Alison came back in and Mr Bateman quickly jumped out of her chair and resumed his place to the front of the room.
"Okay, Mandy, that's enough", Mr Bateman yawned, "You have worksheets on your table".
Some random boy shot his hand up.
"What?" Mr Bateman sighed irritably.
"What if we don't know what to do?" He asked.
"Ask the person sitting next to you", Mr Bateman replied.
"Aren't we supposed to ask you questions?" He asked, obviously trying to be annoying.
"If you have a question, don't ask because it's a constant reminder of you lowering your IQ, Malcomn", Mr Bateman snapped and received loads of 'ohhh's and 'Malcomn got owned by a teacher's.
I stared at Mr Bateman as he returned to his laptop. There was something ever so strange about him. Something not right in his head. I could tell. And I was determined to find out what it was.