Clotheslines & Lacy Lingerie
Chapter 1: The Discovery
A/N: Firstly, I'm SO sorry I haven't updated, I'm away on holiday so it's kind of hard! Sorry about the writing style, I think I may have accidentally flitted between several different types of writing without realising, and I'm sorry about spelling, grammar etc.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything, only the storyline.
Annabelle sighed as she struggled with the large washing basket.
Having to hang the washing out was the worst chore to be allocated, especially on a Saturday morning after an evening of 'caning' in all night.
Annabelle still wasn't quite sure what 'it' was, nor did she want to...especially if it was explained by one of the more vulgar students.
Oh wait, she thought, they're ALL vulgar!
Annabelle smirked as she dumped the load unceremoniously on the creaking, old washing trolley; she then gave another exaggerated sigh and picked up a gaudy pink towel.
Annabelle's slightly bell-like laugh echoed around the empty courtyard as she pegged the towel to the washing line, it practically screamed 'Posh Totty', with or without the little kisses embroidered around the edge.
'Wonder what Kelly's up to?' She thought to herself distractedly, 'probably still asleep, or hung-over.'
Annabelle snorted, then realised she had done so aloud and blushed, pleased that on one was around to witness her unladylike guffaw.
Frowning, Annabelle picked up another piece of the wet clothing and giggled when she realised what it was.
Annabelle was holding a small, black thong; with lace around the top and a heart sewn on the front.
She suspected it belonged to Chelsea [the poshest of the Totties], or maybe one of the secretly racy "Emo's", but out of blatant curiosity she checked the tag.
"Marks & Spencers", it read – but no name.
Annabelle rolled her eyes, mentally kicking herself, of course whoever owned this sexy piece of underwear wouldn't want everyone to know who it belonged to!
Writing a name on a piece of launderette like that was like tattooing 'tease me', across your forehead in a school like St Trinian's.
Turning the underwear over, she laughed. A slightly gaudy 'K' was bedazzled on the back.
'What are you doing, Fritton?' a smooth voice asked, surprising Annabelle and making her unconsciously drop the mystery knickers.
'Shit!' she mumbled, hurriedly picking them up and shoving them in the basket.
'Fritton?'
Annabelle turned on her heel, only to come face to face with the seriously intimidating (but no less attractive!) head girl – Kelly Jones.
'I...uh, was... just hanging out the washing!' she said unconvincingly, 'no hangover, then?'
'Way to go Fritton,' Annabelle internally screamed, 'Great subject change, REAL smooth!'
Kelly laughed bitterly, 'You'd think so after two paracetamol's, three neurofen's and eight cups of coffee!'
Annabelle's forehead creased with worry, 'Are you sure that was wise, Kel? I mean, mixing drugs, alcohol and coffee?'
'Shut up, Fritton,' Kelly sighed, but she was secretly thrilled that the younger girl was so concerned for her well-being, 'I'm a big girl, and I can look after myself.'
'Okay then.' Annabelle muttered, still concerned.
'What about you?' Kelly asked, leaning against the pole in the centre of the line, and watching Annabelle hang the washing.
'I don't drink,' Annabelle laughed 'and that is why.'
'Oh shut up, Fritton.' Kelly smirked, 'when you do drink, we'll all be standing around laughing as you moan and groan about you're headache.'
'Impossible.' Annabelle said, dismissing the teasing comment as she struggled with a duvet cover.
She groaned and flailed wildly as it fell over her head.
'Need a hand, Fritton?' Kelly chuckled.
'No!' she huffed, and then proceeded to twist around, trip over the cover and land with a satisfying 'squelch' in a puddle of water.
'You sure about that, Fritton?' Kelly asked, stifling a laugh.
'Ow...' Annabelle moaned, rolling out of the muddy puddle.
'Sorry,' Kelly smirked, 'are you okay?'
'What's wrong?' Kelly crouched beside Annabelle, suddenly worried, 'Do you need Matron? What hurts?'
'My bum.' Annabelle said, deadpanned.
Kelly laughed her trademark chest chuckle as she helped Annabelle scramble out of the cover.
'Thanks.' Annabelle blushed, as she resumed her tedious chore.
Kelly shook the now-wet cover and hung it on the line, easily pegging each corner – without an accident.
'Pass me something.' Kelly ordered, since it was obvious that it would take Annabelle far too long by herself.
Annabelle handed her a towel and continued hanging others ties and shirts on the line, trying to hurry so as not to make Kelly do so much.
'Fritton?' Kelly looked at Annabelle, 'something else?'
Annabelle suddenly noticed there were only two items of washing left; a pillow case and the thong.
'Uh...here.' Annabelle handed Kelly the revealing underwear, curious as to how the usually so level-headed and elegant head girl would react.
'Tha...' Kelly began, then realised what she was holding.
'Shit.' She muttered, turning bright red.
Annabelle laughed, she hadn't expected this reaction!
'What's wrong, Kelly?' Annabelle asked, grinning.
'What?' Kelly looked up and blushed again, 'N – nothing, just, nothing.'
'Suuuuure.' Annabelle said, teasingly.
Kelly turned an even darker shade of red as she hung the pants on the line.
'So, do you know who's they are?' Annabelle asked, still giggling.
'Possibly.' Kelly quirked an eyebrow, trying to be as cryptic as humanly possible. And regain her cool mask of 'perfectness'.
'You do!' the curly-haired brunette shrieked, 'oh, do tell!'
'I'm not admitting anything.' Kelly fixed Annabelle with the firm glare she usually reserved for unruly teachers, but failed miserably - Annabelle was off with the fairies – wondering who on Earth could own the undies.
'Really, Annabelle,' Kelly laughed, 'you need to keep your mind out of the gutter and focus on your chores!'
'What?' Annabelle was totally out of it.
'I believe my point is made.' Kelly laughed, mainly to herself, 'let's go inside, Fritton. Get you some food.'
'I'm not hungry,' Annabelle lied, as her stomach rumbled loudly.
'Mhmm.' Kelly smiled knowingly.
'I'm not!'
It rumbled again.
'B...but what about the undies?' she asked, clearly desperate for a good piece of gossip.
'Grow up, Fritton.'
