I thought I had heard the end of Cheltenham Ladies College, but making the school's hockey team and playing against them earlier unhinged me. "Annabelle the Cannibal" that nickname I know was uncalled for, but at Cheltenham I was subject to random bouts of bullying for Cheltenham hockey captain Verity Twaites and her cronies. And what I can't believe is that her father dearest is head of the education department and yet overlooks her unjust ways of torture.

I shook my head and reached for the tap to banish thoughts and get cleaned up. I locked the shower door behind me, habit ever since my first shower here at St Trinian's. I cringed, mainly from the spurt of hot water, but also from the memory of having my clothing stolen and forced to run down the corridor, unbeknownst to me at the time, which was filmed and on YouTube within minutes. It was because of that moment I found myself on the school's hockey team and therefore at the very hands of Verity and Cheltenham Ladies College, my old life broadcasted for everyone to see.

I placed my towel on the shelf, along with my shoes and socks, and felt the stinging sensation, not of hot water, but warm tears, streaming down my face. Instead of having a shower, I ended up standing fully clothed under the constant stream of water, tears hidden. At least here, no one would find me and if they did, they would palm it off as my weirdness, not that something was wrong. Mind you they wouldn't, as they're all at their little "victory" celebration. Unluckily for me though, if I ever see Verity Twaites again, it'll give her another reason to bully me. The last time she'd done that, before the hockey match today, was the day before I was pulled out of Cheltenham. She'd got me up against the wall, then, with her friend's help shouted abuse at me, making me feel utterly worthless and what about to unleash more abuse when instead she gave me a choice. I didn't say anything, so she pulled off her belt and proceeded to hit me with it. Five whole times. She would've hit more, but I stopped yelling in pain and begging. Instead she put her hands round my throat. Putting my own hand around my throat, I could still feel where hers had been, how close I came to death. Someone made her stop. I don't know who exactly, because when she let go I collapsed and everything went black. In a way, I'm glad father pulled me out of there, but to send me here? I don't know what possessed him to. Well no, I do. But he shouldn't have sent me here. It's too…

I heard the bathroom door open and close and the voices of the twins pestering someone. "Please Kel, let us…" "For the fiftieth time, no. You're only eleven. You two should be in bed even but no. Now go find someone else to pester, I've got a few things to do." The door opened and I assumed the twins left, as I heard a tap turn on. Kelly sounded slightly drunk, but even when drunk she could still string a sentence together and take control. That's one thing I could never do, be a leader. At least not as good a leader as she is. I don't think anybody ever could be.

"Is that you in there Fritton?" Kelly asked. Drat I inwardly cursed. "Come on, it can only be you, it couldn't be anyone else, everyone else is downstairs having fun, enjoying life and our victory." I didn't answer. Its not that I couldn't, I just didn't want to. But there's no stopping a St Trinian apparently. I hoped desperately that she'd take the silence as a no, drop it and leave, but I watched in horror as the lock turned and Kelly stepped into the shower cubicle, locking the door behind her.

"Why cant you St Trinian's leave it…leave me alone?" I half yelled at her, then apologised, stumbling on my words. There was silence. "What's wrong Fritton?" She said, taking a step forward. Naturally, I took a step backwards. "Nothing's wrong" I tried to bluff, but, I'd never been taught how to play poker, let alone lie through my teeth. "You and I both know that's a load of…what's wrong Fritton?" She took another step forward. Once again, there was silence. I figured if I didn't say a thing, she'd leave and let me cry in peace. Unfortunately I was wrong.

"You've been crying, haven't you? It had something to do with those Cheltenham girls didn't it?" She took another step forward. "I've…okay…so I've been crying…what's it to you? And yes, your right it did have everything to do with CHELTENHAM. Stupid Verity…stupid school stupid…and no one did anything! Until it was too late and…"

"Annabelle."

"No one cared. No one did a thing until…" I kept rambling, unable to hear her.

"Annabelle."

"Stupid Verity. I shouldn't have let her get me round the…"

"Annabelle!' I heard her that time.

"What?" I replied, puzzled.

Then it sunk in. She'd called me Annabelle. She never calls me Annabelle. Always Fritt…

A pair of soft, warm lips crashed onto my own wet, tear stained ones and I stood there unable to respond. Never had I been so confused in my life. Yet oddly calmed...she tasted…like strawberries.

Then she pulled away and smirked her trademark smirk. I stood completely still from shock that the head girl…that Kelly had just…kissed me. It just didn't register in my mind. Nothing registered at all. At that moment logical went out the window, down the drain.

"What're you just standing there for silly?" She threw a towel at me. "Let's say we get you out of those wet clothes."