"Slut? Have you seen my phone?" Christine whined and Meg sighed; she was always losing it in the mess of her room.
"Have you tried calling it?" Meg called out from her room and Christine grumbled in frustration and walked into Meg's bedroom.
"Give me your phone so I can call it" she ordered Meg and she rolled her eyes as she handed over her gold flip phone. Christine instantly began flipping through the contact list, trying to find her name.
Meg looked at her and raised one eyebrow; she wasn't even dressed yet and they had to be at school for first period in ten minutes. She was still in her mint green empire lined nightgown, only long enough to come halfway down her thin thighs. Her curly brown hair was still out and messy, frizzed from sleep and her makeup was smudged all over her face; she never cleaned it off before bed.
"Chris we're leaving in ten minutes; you're not even dressed yet" she said in frustration and Christine rolled her eyes, attempting to call her mobile to hear the ringtone and see where it was.
"Whatever Meg, I just realised; I left my phone on silent vibrate. Now I'll never-oh!" she said suddenly and looked in her nightgown pocket; there was her buzzing silver flip phone.
"It was in you're pocket" Meg said sceptically and Christine giggled, reading her new messages from certain boys.
"Yeh…" she said disjointedly, not actually listening to Meg. Meg kicked her backside and began to shout.
"Chris you whore if you're not ready soon I'm not giving you a lift" she threatened and Christine laughed.
"Just wait til I pass my drivers test," she said, poking her tongue out at her cousin and Meg reciprocated well.
"What? This next time will be your fourth go; if I were the government I wouldn't allow you on the roads either you nut" she called out as Christine walked across the hallway to her room.
"Bite me Meg," she said, slamming the door behind her.
It had always been like this; them calling each other bitches, whores, sluts, having screaming fights with each other, stealing one another's clothes and never returning them. They were cousins but were like the closest of sisters, loving and hating each other at the same time. Best friends and the worst of enemies all wrapped in one; Rivals and sisters together and separate.
Christine's mother had been sister to Meg's mother but she had died in childbirth with Christine's little sister when she was only five years old. Her father was a Swedish man, Gustave Daae, and he had been an amazing musician; no one ever had played the violin like him. But when Christine was ten years old some awful news came to her; her dearest papa had been killed in a car crash, a drunk driver ran his car off the road, taking daddy Daaé's car with him.
She had lived in Sydney with Aunt Annie and her cousin Meg ever since, going to school and ballet with Meg. Aunt Annie was once the principle female dancer of the Australian ballet and now ran her own prestigious dance and performing arts school which both of the girls attended.
"Christine you bitch I'm leaving!" shouted Meg, jangling her car keys as she headed for the front door and Christine burst out of her room, brushing her hair and clutching a bag of makeup with her school books and folder.
"I'm ready she gasped, the front of her uniform unbuttoned and her school shoes undone as she ran to Meg and followed her out to the car.
It was a nice car; Meg had saved up for it since she was thirteen and when she finally got her licence the early this year when she turned seventeen. They piled into it and Christine instantly flipped down the passenger seat sunshade, looking in the mirror and doing her eyeliner with expertise.
"Are we picking up Jammes?" she asked and Meg shrugged, picking up her phone and calling Jammes.
"Meg, you can't do that! It's illegal" Christine hissed and Meg shrugged.
"Chris who bloody cares if I call my friend when were in a quiet street" Meg said and began to chat away to her friend Jammes on her phone.
Jammes wasn't her real name; Jamie-Kate was her real name but she hated t, so everyone called her Jammes. She was beautiful and Christine and Meg were both jealous though the three had been best friends since they met at ballet at eleven years old. Jammes was pale skinned and thin, a pretty delicate face with soft long red hair, as red as the vampy red lipstick she wore everyday to match her hair and nails. She was stunning and all the boys drooled over her.
The three of them were part of the more 'popular' group; Jammes being the gorgeous girl all the boys lusted after, Meg was the girl who gossiped and chattered without end and Christine was the quiet pretty one, flirting but shy. They had a few other girls in their group but it was them three who stood out.
After picking up Jammes they finally reached the school, Garniel Grammar School. Meg parked the car in the student's parking lot they heard some of the year twelve boys whistle and call out. Brendan Kozorr jumped of the bench they were all slouching on and ran up to Meg, putting his arm around her shoulders as he pressed his lips against her cheek.
"Hello" she said playfully and he began whispering in her ear and Christine and Jammes sighed as they walked n without Meg; she would be a while with her handsome boyfriend. They had been a couple for nearly four months and were king and queen of public displays of affection.
Jammes and Christine gossiped and chattered as they walked to the year eleven locker area in the English building. The school was very spread out, a different building for each major subject; Maths building, Science and HSIE building, English building, art and technology building, IT building, library, Drama and Music building and the large hall where they held assemblies and sport.
Though they were just on the outskirts of the major Sydney city area they still had bushland connected the school and often a lizard or possum would be found in the locker areas, ensuing screaming girls.
Christine's heart stopped as she entered the locker area; it was him. She grabbed Jammes' arm and pulled her quickly into the girl's bathrooms where many girls crowded around the mirror doing their makeup and hitching their skirts up.
"What is it Chris?" she asked, rubbing her arm where Christine had grabbed her and Christine's wide chocolate brown eyes stared out the door to where Raoul stood with his friends, laughing and joking.
"It's Raoul," she said simply and Jammes laughed.
"Raoul? What type of name is that?" she guffawed and Christine shook her head.
"His parents are French and old fashioned, but his name doesn't matter. Before I came to live in Sydney with Meg he and I were…well…I guess you could say we were childhood sweethearts. My father gave him music lessons and for a whole summer he stayed with us in our holiday home by the sea in Sweden" she said faintly as Jammes peered around the corner to look at him.
He was tall and had scruffy longish dark blonde hair, long enough to cover his ears and sweep across his sparkling blue eyes. He was pretty well built and she could see through the white uniform shirt his rippling muscles. He was tanned and very attractive, a lot of girls eyeing the new guy.
"He's pretty sexy" Jammes said and Christine shook her head, shaking from nerves as she made sure her curled hair was in place.
"Do I look okay? I haven't seen him in so long?" she said in a little nervous voice and Jammes sighed and nodded, dragging her out of the bathroom.
Raoul turned and his blue eyes widened as he caught sight of Christine. He left his friends and jogged quickly across to her and stumbled over his words as he tried to talk to her.
"Ohgochristineyou?" he threw out of his mouth and she was taken aback at what he said.
"What?" she said and he turned red in embarrassment. He was charming and charismatic with most girls but this one always made him stutter and stumble in nerves.
"Is it really you Christine?" he asked slowly, his slight French accent purring through his perfected English and she nodded.
"Raoul de Changy?" she inquired and he nodded.
"The very same" he said and took her hand and kissed it as she turned red; he always made her feel so nervous.
"I'll leave you two to it" Jammes said, the pair hardly hearing her as she walked off to talk to her other friend, Sorelli, a beautiful dark haired beauty with ivory skin.
"It's been a while hasn't it," he said as they began to stroll away from the general mass of their year group.
"Yes, since when have you been in Sydney?" she asked and he shook his head and looked at her; she was so beautiful, he thought longingly to himself.
"End of last year my family decided they needed a break and we've moved here for it. They're probably leaving for France once I've finished my schooling but I'm staying here; it's wonderful here" he said and looked at her oddly "Last I heard you were in Sweden with your father" he asked and she looked away sadly; she hated being reminded of her dear father.
"Dad died the year after I met you, the next summer." She said quietly and his eyes widened and he instinctively put his arms around her, kicking himself for putting his foot in his mouth, again "It was a car crash" she continued "I've lived with my aunt and cousin here ever since" she said sadly and he kissed her cheek.
"I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear and suddenly they heard the teacher, Mr Lefevre, yelling at their year group that it was time for first period. "Dammit" he muttered and they pulled apart awkwardly.
"What's your first class?" she asked and he flipped open his timetable as they picked up their books.
"Legal studies" he groaned "What about yourself?" he asked and she flicked through her school diary until she found her graffitied timetable.
"Advanced Music" she said happily and he sighed.
"Lucky" he said and kissed her on the cheek as he ran off to the HSIE building; legal studies teachers were always bitches if you were late.
Christine walked by herself to the music building, hoping this year she got her favourite music teacher Mr Hawkinson. He had once been a star of Opera Australia, the lead baritone in all the operas for many years. He was nice and now was in his mid thirties, teaching advanced music, running the school orchestras and bands and a prestigious singing teacher out of school hours.
She entered her room and waited with her usual music buddies; in music the normal social cliques didn't exist anymore and they all bonded happily, forming a group of their own. They never would hang out of music time, only chat on msn and myspace a bit but Christine had her own good friends in music that Meg and Jammes hardly knew about.
But there was one girl in their lass that nobody liked and as they all talked and flirted she sat texting her friends on her mobile phone; her name was Carlotta Giudicelli and she was a wealthy Italian girl, mean and controlling. She sang opera and Mr Hawkinson would try everything to avoid her singing for him; in truth she was terrible.
Christine sat chatting to her friend Matt, talking about how their summer holidays were and how annoying it was school had started again when Mr Hawkinson entered the room.
"Okay guys, welcome back, hope your holidays were great blah, blah, blah" he said jokingly as the class giggled "please get out your music manuscript and we're going to do some melodic notation" he ordered and the class shuffled through their books and he flicked on the CD player, a chamber orchestra playing a baroque piece by Handel, the melody on the violin.
Christine forgot to notate the notes as she listened to the piece, recognising it as a piece her father once played for her on his violin, much better than this lifeless recording. Raoul had reminded her of her father and now she couldn't stop thinking about him, or Raoul.
"Yes?" came Mr Hawkinson's curious voice, jolting her back to reality as he flicked off the music. The class turned to see a nervous looking dark haired boy standing in the doorway.
The whole class went silent as they stared at him.
The curious thing was the fact that they couldn't see the right half of his face; a black leather half mask, moulded to his skin, covered it, not even a hole for his right eye. Christine stared at him; curious like the rest of the class to why he wore the mask. He was tall and thin, his scruffy crushed uniform hanging off him like a skeleton, his skin pale and his thick floppy hair a very dark brown. He bit his lip nervously as the class stared at him; everyone always stared at him like that, he could never escape it.
"Uh, well, yes?" Mr Hawkinson stuttered and the boy started to talk nervously, a few giggles escaping the class.
"I'm new and well they gave me a timetable which said I'm supposed to be here" he stuttered; he had a slight British accent, a Londoner perhaps. Mr Hawkinson picked up his roll and scanned down to the D section.
"Erik Destler?" he inquired and Erik nodded.
"Yeah" he said quietly and Mr Hawkinson gestured for him to enter the classroom.
"You can sit here next to Christine," he suggested and Christine shuffled over to accommodate Erik's thin figure. He sat down next to her and she tried not to stare, but wondered why the mask.
"If you don't mind me saying I think it's school policy for items such as hats and masks to be abandoned" Mr Hawkinson said dryly and Erik opened his school diary and passed him a note.
Mr Hawkinson passed his eyes over it, looking curiously from Erik to the note and finally nodded, handing back the note to Erik who swiftly shoved it back inside his school diary.
"Well that seems to be in order" Mr Hawkinson said swiftly and turned to the white board, removing the cap from his whiteboard marker and continuing the lesson as everyone gossiped and talked quietly about their holidays.
As class was let out to second period Christine walked down the stairs next to Erik, having not spoken a word to him all lesson except when he asked if he could borrow her pencil sharpener.
"So which school did you go to before Garniel?" she asked nervously and he looked at her, his left green eye searching her face.
"I went to one in England, what's it to you?" he asked defensively and she shrugged, slightly taken aback by his distrustful tone.
"Nothing, just curious" she said and he gave her a dark look and walked off, scratching the back of his head.
What was he hiding?