At St Trinians, Kelly Jones was the boss. At least, the boss of the first-years. In the first couple of weeks, she proved her authority by wrapping Flash around her little finger, getting in with the Head Girl Jessica and putting herself in charge of business, betting and vodka production.

Taylor liked Kelly. She scared most of the year, but Tay decided that they were going to be mates. And that was what happened. Best mates in no time. Taylor had a lot of willpower, and she wasn't afraid to use it to her advantage.

At first, Andrea didn't have many friends. She felt like she was a bit of an outsider, even with this odd collection of misfits. She wasn't shy, just reserved, and she really didn't feel comfortable approaching a lot of these loud, eccentric girls and starting awkward conversation.

But then, one day, Kel and Tay were pitching their new line of Brandt Quality Vodka and Andrea decided she wanted to give this shit a try herself.

So next week, when Flash turned up again, she strolled up with a neat little cardboard box. "Cigarettes," she grinned, pushing them forward. She'd been working on it all by herself, and nobody had noticed. But then, a lot of the time people didn't tend to notice Andrea whatever she was doing. Flash was pretty impressed. He agreed to flog a load of them and she shook his hand triumphantly.

And from that moment on, Andrea had a lot more respect from everyone. Admirers, almost.

Taylor decided that she was a worthy friend. And it worked out for a while, Kel, Tay and Rea, the three awesome first-years that EVERYONE knew about. But Taylor and Andrea were constantly arguing.

And everything blew up one evening in art. "You can't have BUTTER on a bacon sandwich!" Taylor insisted with disgust in her eyes.

"Yes you can! You need butter on a sandwich! Otherwise it isn't a sandwich!"

"I hate you Andrea!"

Then they didn't talk for days. Occasionally they communicated through Kelly.

Andrea took up painting and poetry. She painted disturbing pictures of Taylor with a knife plunged through her heart, and with her head chopped off. She called it expressive art. And she wrote poems about why Taylor was such an awful person. Haikus, actually.

Taylor is stupid.

She thinks only of herself.

I swear I hate her.

It was the start of a long, long feud between them.

And it made the first-years realise that soon, they wouldn't all be friends anymore. They would be divided in the cliques that made up St Trinians.