A.N.- This was an idea I had rattling around for a little while. A lot of this chapter will just be short moments between characters as everyone gets acclimated, but the more in depth character relationships will start soon. Promise.
Dislaimer: If I owned Orange is the New Black, there would be a lot more Nicky and a lot less Piper (though, isn't that all of our hopes?)
Litchfield Academy, set in the middle-of-nowhere New York state, was a place where parents sent their children who they didn't want to deal with anymore. Some kids had run into trouble with behavior, and exasperated parents rather quickly made out the check for tuition. Other parents just couldn't relate to their kids, didn't want them once they grew out of the adorable baby phase, opting to send them to boarding school instead. Then there were the kids that grew up in neighborhoods with a poor school system, and parents, hoping for a better life for their kid, payed the fee for a decent education. Of course, other kids attended for this reason and that reason, but the vast majority of students could be lumped into any of the aforementioned categories.
Teachers at Litchfield Academy weren't known for their kindness and compassion. The once bright-eyed and bushy-tailed new teachers soon had their optimism beat out of them. The majority of teachers plodded through their day, driving to their homes at night, completely beaten down by their job. Natalie Figueroa, known better as "Fig" behind her back by students and teachers alike, headed the school. Ruthless, her smoothed skirt and perfectly pressed blouse asserted her position in society. With a husband running for Senate and copious amounts of money to her name, she was untouchable.
The classrooms were dingy, despite the janitorial crews best tries to clean it up. There were countless maintenance issues, from faulty plumbing to switches that blew at least once a week. But from the outside, to parents and the prospective students, it was worth the money you forked over to attend the "elite" academy. The brochures, website, even the tours gave off the impression that Litchfield was a school with a high-achieving student body, set on on gorgeous campus nestled in New York woods.
Nobody noticed the barb-wired fences in the background, transforming the school into a prison for the students. It functioned in much the same way as well.
~-Litchfield Academy-~
A group of very nervous girls were making their way among the campus. Sniggers seemed to attack them from every nook, from the more seasoned students. They all looked forward to this day: new student orientation. It was the older girls' chance to shake the young ones up a little, assert their dominance, defend their territory.
The mixed group of young girls seemed rattled by the sniggers, whispers, and cat-calling of the older girls. For many, attending Litchfield Academy was the first time they had ever been away from their parents. Many of the girls had never even attended sleepaway camp, and the most time they had spent away from their parents was a sleepover at a friend's house down the street now and again. Rising ninth graders, led by a sophomore, made their way around the campus, jumping at every noise from another student. The girl leading their orientation couldn't help but roll her eyes each time this happened, hoping to get the tour over with as soon as possible and introduce them to their new dorms.
"These dorms are divided by race," she said in her odd accent that sounded vaguely like she was simultaneously from Boston and New York. Noticing several of the new girls' glances to one another and shocked looks, she tacked on, "Oh you'll get used to it soon enough."
The group trod on in relative silence, aside from an uncomfortable whisper or two. Finally, the sophomore once again halted the group, this time outside an impressively sized building. "You go by your last names here. Most of the time, at least. Introduce yourselves as such and you should have no trouble fitting in." Her red lips formed into a smile before she turned to face the building the group was clustered by. "This is 'Black Hall,'" she said, "where all the black students reside." She shrugged as if it was second nature to her. "Now shoo," she made a pushing hand gesture towards the few black students in the group of girls, encouraging them to enter the dorm. "You'll find your names on the door of the dorm you'll be staying in!" she called out as an afterthought, before moving on once more with the group of girls.
She dropped the group of hispanic girls off at "Spanish Plaza" and the girls that didn't really fit with one of the main groups off at the "Other House." She was left with the people of her class then, the white students of Litchfield Academy. "This is your new home," she said, "we call it 'the suburbs', but it's official name is 'White Hall.' Inside, you should find a door with your name on it. Head in there, and there'll be an empty bed. There should be a few things on it for you, as a welcome gift. Oh, and my name is Morello. First name is Lorna, but, as I said, we generally go by last names here."
Morello led the group into the building, and they stood in the dusty foyer. There are 4 floors here, the first two floors are a mix of freshies and sophomores, the third floor is for juniors only, and the fourth floor belongs to the seniors that didn't opt to move into the seniority dorm. The person in charge here is Reznikov, but you can call her Red. Everyone does, anyways. She's only a junior, but there were no seniors who were in this dorm that wanted to stick around long enough to be a dorm advisor. Now, off with you guys, go get settled in. Dinner will be at 7:30 pm sharp, and you best not be late."
With that, the girl took off up the stairs, disappearing into a corridor on the second floor. The new students stood there in shock, afraid to move along. They instead took in their surroundings, the dusty tapestries on the wall and the slightly scuffed furniture that looked like it had to have been sitting in the same foyer for the last fifty years.
"You would think it would be helpful for them to post a fucking master list or something," A slightly raspy voice finally said from the outskirts of the crowd, "Instead of just leaving us to get lost in the hopes we'll find the damn place." A few girls nodded, but that was all the traction the impromptu demand received. The more popular response was to break off from the group and go wandering through the corridors, hoping they'd stumble upon the right room.
The girl who had made the demand was startled by a voice behind her. "Little girl, big mouth, huh?" The thick accent proclaimed, "and your name is?"
"Nichols," the girl stated, puffing out her chest. "Nicky Nichols."
"Your parents loved you, didn't they," was the scoffing reply. Nicky pegged the accent as Russian, standing up a bit taller when her parents were mentioned.
"It's a touchy subject," she said.
"Well, I'm Red," the other student replied.
"Shit," said Nicky, "you're the one in charge here?"
"Yes," the older student responded as the conversation was terminated, with Red heading off to the kitchens to start dinner, and Nicky left wandering the hallways for a door with her name on it.
~-Litchfield Academy-~
"Shit, shit, shit!" A blonde freshman paced in front of the bed in her designated bedroom. "This is soooo not happening!" She glared at her roommate, trying to suppress her urge to punch either a wall or the dark haired girl that was across the room with a smug look upon her face.
"Calm down Pipes, it's not like it's the end of the world," the other girl tried to reason with the blond. She picked up a piece of her hair, with the tips dyed teal, "We used to be such good... friends." she finished after contemplating her word choice.
"Easy for you to say, Alex!" the blonde girl spat. "You're the reason I'm fucking here! After Larry got pissed after our breakup, he told my parents that I dated you! The king and queen WASPs couldn't deal with their gay daughter, so they sent me to this fucking boarding school!"
"Huh. I always wondered why you dated that twat, Piper."
Piper ignored the other girl's quip, too distressed to even listen. "I know what I'll do," she blurted out, "I'll just ask to switch rooms. There, problem solved." The blonde beamed, proud of her solution.
"Fat chance," Alex couldn't wipe the smirk off her face, "Like they'd ever acknowledge your request. This isn't some hoity-toity private school for WASPs, Piper," she said, "This is Litchfield, where you should be glad if a teacher is neutral towards you."
~-Litchfield Academy-~
"Oh shit. It's you."
"It's nice to meet you again too," the familiar accent found Nicky's ears, "What's your name again?"
"Nichols. Nicky Nichols."
"Well I'm Lorna, Lorna Morello."
"Guess we're rooming together." Nicky let her eyes move up and down Morello's body. Well, I guess I could do worse. she thought. "Say, which way do you swing?" she asked, hoping the girl would get the hint.
"I have a boyfriend, from my hometown," she said, "His name is Christopher and he's my Prince Charming." She lowered her voice a little before continuing, "But between you and me, I'm not always faithful. Girl's gotta fulfill her urges, you know?"
"Oh believe me, I know," Nicky scoffed.
~-Litchfield Academy-~
"Your name is Pussy?" the girl mocked her roommate, teasingly.
"It's Poussey," the other girl corrected, not missing a beat, "Accent a droit, bitch!"
The first girl's face broke out into a smile. "Tastee," she said, extending her hand for Poussey to shake. "The boys all call me that cuz my pussy is so damn tasty." That was no where close to the reason, but Tastee figured that she should avoid dumping all her emotional baggage on her roommate, at least not on the first day. "You got any snacks?" she asked.
"Nah, but I've got something better," Poussey said, drawing a flask from her bag and tossing it to Tastee, who took a swig before handing it back.
"How'd you get that past security?"
"I'm a pretty talented person."
~-Litchfield Academy-~
The girl walked into her room, one of the few bunks which housed three students. The other two had managed to find the room earlier, clearly, and were engaged in an enthusiastic conversation. In Spanish.
"Hey guys," she offered weakly, "I'm Diaz. Well, Dayanara is my first name but everyone calls me Daya."
The other girls in the room started at her like she had sprouted horns, before saying something new in Spanish. Though Daya had a very small understanding of the language, she was able to discern what the other girl had said. Well, most of it at least, and the part she understood was the part about how Daya should just speak Spanish.
"Uh, I don't know Spanish," she said to her roommates, who turned to her incredulously.
"I'm Maritza," said the shorter girl.
"I'm Flaca," the taller one followed.
"It's nice to meet you," Daya started to say, but the girls had already gone back to their conversation. In Spanish.
~-Litchfield Academy-~
"John!" a loud voice startled the new teacher out of his thoughts. "Bennett!" the voice registered in the teacher's ears as closer than the original exclamation did. Bennett's suspicion was confirmed as an arm was thrown casually around his shoulder and he was propelled forward.
"Mendez," Bennett nodded at the more experienced teacher.
"Oh please," the other man said, "Call me George. So you're the new history teacher, huh?"
"Yes I am," Bennett kept his reply short, hoping Mendez would take the hint.
"I teach gym," Mendez said, "You should really see some of these students in gym shorts. I mean, wow!"
Bennett wriggled out of Mendez's grasp. "Sorry Mendez, I mean George, I'm not interested."
"Swing the other way?" Mendez guessed.
"Not so much, I just have no interest in fucking students." Bennett turned back, heading towards his office which Mendez had pushed him by, have no urge to talk to the other man again for a very long time.
A.N.- I promise more in depth chapters coming up, this was just meant to set the scene of this school. I hope y'all liked it, and I promise that I'll try and update within the week.
Until next time,
shiftyeyesandanevilsmile