School Days for the Rebellious...
1
Amelia Finch took slow, tentative steps towards the open doors of the sixth-form common room. Redwing School offered a "welcoming and invigorating sixth-form for pupils from all backgrounds..." Amelia laughed to herself, momentarily forgetting where her feet were taking her. She'd moved schools suddenly. Her parents had decided to pluck from the cosy womb of Whitakers Academy for Ladies away from her friends and her teachers. Amelia didn't like change. She hissed in sudden pain as her body connected full force with the door frame. The chatter that had been floating from the common room stopped dead. An eerie silence descended and they all look at her. Amelia turned bright red. Rapidly stepped away from the door frame, rubbed her forehead, smoothed her uniform and continued. She knew what they were all looking at. The faces of about fifty boys and girls stared directly at the long, pink scar across her left eye. A few began to whisper and snicker behind their hands. Amelia ignored it. Her eyes were drawn to the one face not bothering with her embarrassing entrance. Thin hands, smart uniform, open school bag, a mound of books and a mass of dark curly hair. She weaved her way through the maze of chairs, cursing herself again and again; "Well done Amelia ...could you have made that any worse? No." She sat down in the chair opposite the young man. Her eyes scanned his bowed head, his open school bag...her sharp eyes picked up on the spine of a blue book...Sherlock Holmes...she ran the word around her mouth. She took a deep breath in...
"Hi..." her voice was croaky and she quickly cleared her throat. The boy looked up, his face impatient.
"Hello Amelia Finch..." she frowned in confusion – how could he possibly know her name?
"Excuse me...but how do you know my name Sherlock Holmes?" He looked up properly. His steely blue eyes, his chiselled face, his almost angelic cheekbones and the light scent of his cologne. Amelia shivered. By the look in his eyes he was analysing her. Taking in every motion, every breath. Amelia suddenly became embarrassed, he didn't look at her scar once and this made her uneasy.
"I looked at the school system – you're new so your name flashed up. Child's play. And my name is on the school book hanging out of my bag. Well done – you're not as stupid as you look." Amelia coloured with anger. Her fingers curled to fists.
"Thanks." There was loud laughing from the doorway and another group of lads dressed in sports kit, coated in mud came in. Amelia turned and looked with the rest. Sherlock sat up, raising an arm. "John!" A young man with mousy blonde hair, large blue eyes and a suggestively muscular frame walked over to the pair. He looked at Amelia as he passed her to take the seat next to Sherlock. Amelia froze. Her heart started beating and she felt pink flood to her cheeks. He may have been covered in mud. But he was very, very good looking. Sherlock looked at her...he realised what was going through her head and pulled a disgusted face; "God almighty...not another one..." Amelia smiled at John and introduced herself.
"Hi, I'm Amelia...I really think that mud suits you...matches your complexion..." John laughed and his face lit up...
"Thank you Amelia – it's nice to know someone thinks I look okay." He shot a withering look at Sherlock – the other boy ignored it. "I'm on the rugby team so mud comes with the game..." Amelia smiled;
"So does broken collar bones and muscle strain...but each to our own – I'm more of a dancer myself." John raised a blonde eyebrow – "You'll fit right in then – we're well known for our dancers here...drama, music, sport and science..." He murmured the schools Latin moto; "Integram educationem"
"A complete education...I studied Latin at my old school."
"Where'd you come from?" John enquired.
"Whitakers Academy for Ladies...full of posh bitches..." John tried not to laugh,
"You got that right" He sent a cheeky wink her way and Amelia fought down the blush...again. She was really attracted to him...he was – in short. Gorgeous. Suddenly a loud school bell rang in the distance. Sherlock stood up abruptly. Amelia jumped in surprise – she'd completely forgotten he was there. Sherlock had been listening to this mindless conversation for the last ten minutes and frankly he was bored. He walked away, holding his head high and looking rather stuck up in Amelia's opinion. Amelia walked beside John, breathing in his smell...the outdoors, Lynx and a hint of sweat...She pulled a screwed up piece of paper out of her pocket;
"I've got Biology first with...Mr Williams?" John nodded –
"Same actually – there's a space next to me if you like – as smarty pants likes to work alone..." He gestured at the marching Sherlock.
"Is it me – or does he insult people on a regular basis? He called me stupid..." John sighed and shrugged his shoulders...
"That's just him. He's ridiculously clever and everyone is stupid and blind – you get used to it I promise..." They arrived at the lab and John graciously held the door open for him. He showed her the desk and she dropped her things down. John whistled –
"Nice bag...are you minted or what?" Amelia blushed,
"My father runs his own company...it's complicated..." John laughed,
"Like most things around here...now – a quick word of warning – that guy over there..." He pointed to a thuggish looking lad; tall, dark, short hair. Brutish with big fists...and probably the brain the size of a pea. "That's Peter Mitchell. He's a real bully and I know you can probably handle yourself – by the way – I love that in a girl. I'd be careful..." Amelia acted like she'd missed his comment in the middle...but she couldn't help but smile. The lesson ran smoothly – she wasn't behind – in fact she was ahead – they were studying cell formation. Amelia took great delight in helping John.
"What are you studying for A-levels" John asked, tapping his pen on the book. It was open on a page showing a diagram of a fully functioning human cell. They'd been asked to draw it and Johns page looked like it had been attacked by a toddler...Amelia laughed, pulled his book over and began correcting it...
"Me? I'm studying Biology, Chemistry, Dance and Psychology... you?"
"Uh...Biology, Chemistry, Psychology and Sports...looks like you've got to put up with me then..." Amelia smiled...
"I think I can cope with that..." The rest of the day past smoothly, meal times were a good laugh and lessons passed well. Amelia had free time in the afternoon so she gathered her books and went to watch John play sport...at the end of the rugby match...John walked over to Amelia and gave her his phone number with the famed words "Text me..." Amelia walked up to her dorm. She was with three other girls and they ignored her – just the way she liked it. She picked up her iPhone and tapped in John's number – she took a deep breath and sent the first text...
"Hey John! Wuu2? Xx" Amelia laid her phone on her pillow, unpacking her stuff – a few moments later her phone vibrated. One new message from John.
"Hey cutie! Just lazing around on my bed – you? Xx" Amelia giggled like a pre-teen seeing Justin Bieber in a magazine and collapsed onto her bed.
"Oh I'm anything but cute! Trust me! I'm just chillin – getting used to my new bed – they're not very comfy... -.- Xx"
"Haha! You'll get used to it eventually. Promise. Saw you watching me play rugby earlier – enjoy it? Xx"
"Apart from freezing my ass off – yeah – it was good :D You're really talented y'know...Xx"
"lol...my dad makes me play...i have no choice tbh..but it keeps me in shape so who's complaining..."
"xD Not me for one – I wish I was that fit..Xx"
" ;) Xx"
"Oh shush you – anyway – off to sleep I go and I will see you at breakfast – btw – what's your last name? You're down in my phone as John Hunky...Xx"
"Lol – Amelia you make me laugh. Yes – breakfast it's a date...*blush* I'm flattered and my name is John Watson – and you? Cuz you're now in my phone as 'Gorgeous' Xx"
"Now I'M the one blushing – Amelia Finch for your information. Goodnight John Xxx"
"Goodnight Miss Finch – sleep well on your uncomfy bed ;)...Xxxx"
Amelia smiled and switched her phone off...placing on her bedside table...she curled up under the covers. School days for the rebellious. Rebellious texting to him in lessons. Rebellious meet ups at midnight and rebellious dreams and feelings for a boy she hardly knew. This was going to be fun. But then lay the mystery of Sherlock Holmes. Something changed in his face when he looked at her...something that said...oh she didn't know...Goodnight Miss Amelia Finch.
x.x End x.x