I chip away slowly at the red polish on my nails, my breathing intermittent and weighted with impolite sighs.
"Now then, Miss Davies." The balding man in front of me begins, his voice shadowed by his continual shuffling of my transcript papers. "I'd like to welcome you to St Augustine's. As I'm sure you're aware we have an outstanding reputation and excellent facilities. Do you like sports, Miss Davies?"
I sigh a little louder, hoping he'll take the hint and save his little speech for someone who actually cares.
"I see, well I'm sure we have something which might interest you. Drama club, perhaps?" He eyes me questioningly for a moment, before realising his efforts to connect with me are futile and returning his attention to my papers. "These make an interesting read, Miss Davies. I understand you're still seeing your psychiatrist?"
"Which one." I deflect, red dust from my nails scattering into my lap.
"Helen Orwell?" He queries; I don't disagree so he continues. "She seems to think you've been making some progress over the last few weeks?"
"Right." I smirk. They always say that when they don't know what else to do with you.
"I have to admit to having grave concerns over your previous school report..." He leans back in his chair, sunlight from the large window behind his desk bouncing off the top of his head. "But your mother assures me that you want to change and have a fresh start here at St Augustine's, which is why I've arranged for you to have a mentor."
"A what?" I frown, reluctantly looking up at his round, aging face.
"Someone to guide you, if you will. Follow in her footsteps and you'll have no trouble at all." He explains cheerfully, as though this really is the best idea he's had in a very long time. "She's one of our top students, a true example."
My frown deepens, the temptation to corrupt this girl already overwhelming me. Oblivious, he leans forward and presses the intercom button on his phone.
"Deidre, send Miss Carlin in please." I swear the guy actually winks at me, but maybe he just has a nervous twitch. "She's really excited about this opportunity, Miss Davies. I think you'll get along fantastically, there's a lot of camaraderie here at St Augustine's."
Before I have a chance to rain on his lame parade, we're interrupted by a meek knock at his door and the awkward entrance of a blonde girl.
The first thing I notice about her is that she's pretty, with bright blue eyes and an unsure smile, and the second thing I notice is how ugly her uniform is. The skirt is a disgusting mixture of blue and green tartan, teamed with a navy blazer and white knee-length socks.
"Principal Wilson, you wanted to see me?" She speaks so prim and proper it's enough to make me nauseous.
"Miss Carlin, I'd like you to meet our new student Miss Davies."
"My name's Ashley." I introduce, with a so-not-thrilled-about-it smile.
"Spencer." She responds softly, her eyes travelling the room and yet somehow distinctly missing contact with mine.
"Why don't you show Miss Davies to her room?" Principal Wilson encourages, keen to get us bonding and out of his way. "And then, Miss Davies, you had best change into your uniform. You can wear your own clothes after 4:00pm and on the weekends, but can I advise that you choose something a little more appropriate in the future."
I glance down at my denim miniskirt which barely reaches my thighs, honestly not seeing an issue.
"Whatever. Can I go now?"