I was listening to 'What the hell' by Avril Lavigne whilst writing this.
"So," a cheery Neutral girl asked us after we were dismissed. "What do you have now?"
"Umm...Art!" I told her, pleased with one thing about my day, at least. Becca walked in silence beside me.
"OMG! Same! My name's Hanna, by the way." She stuck out her hand and I shook it awkwardly. "So, um, where are you from?" I saw Becca begin to open her mouth and butted in, hoping she wasn't going to say America. We were surrounded by eavesdropping girls and I really didn't need that right now.
"Essex."
"Like, The Only Way is Essex? I love that program!"
"Well, no, not really. We're not all...like that." I'd never actually seen the program. Personally, I thought it was givng us an awful reputation.
"Oh well, I guess not. Your accent isn't like theirs."
"Yeah, well, yours isn't exactly Cockney either." She chuckled and turned to Becca.
"How about you?" Hanna wondered. "Are you from the same place?"
"Of course we are," Becca said, and I felt my eyes widen before I squeezed them shut. She was doing the worst impression of an Essex accent ever. I slapped my hand to my forehand, mortified as the other girls exchanged shocked glances and mutters at her voice. "We're sisters." I nodded meekly.
"Oh. Well. That's great," Hanna mumbled and stalked off.
"Thanks!" I cried at Becca. "That was my first chance at getting a friend and you totally blew it! Why couldn't you just speak normally?"
"Because, hello? I'm American."
"And? A. Nobody speaks like that and B. Why couldn't you just lie?"
"I'm not a very good liar." She hung her head.
"I know." We ambled to Art, which was great. The teacher picked up on my 'talent' and I met a couple of girls who did the Art club which I decided to force Becca into going to so I could go too.
After break, when we were ambushed by loads more girls, we had double Chemistry. I groaned and hoped desperately that it was a nice teacher. He wasn't, of course. I mean, who teaches Chemistry and is nice? The class was utter torture, and we had so much work to catch up on. Especially as I hadn't done Chemistry for a year. Great.
Finally, lunch saved us. We had the school dinners, although I ended up eating most of Becca's food. Then suddenly, this girl with stick straight blonde hair to match her stick straight figure stalked up to our table. She barely took the time to turn her nose up at me before she sprawled across the table, in front of my food I might add, and turned to Becca.
"So?" I heard her begin. "How do you fancy coming out to town with us tonight?" I made you-will-die-if-you-say-yes signs over her head but Becca just smiled sweetly and said (in her normal accent thankfully-she'd told the others earlier that she'd been practising drama, which shows how bad a liar she is),
"What's in it for me?"
"For you? You get to hang out with us!" The girl pointed at her friends clustered around a table texting (even though you're not allowed phones in the canteen) and laughing falsely.
"Hmm...Maybe." What the hell? I yanked on the girl's shoulder.
"Excuse me, bitch, but you're in the way of my food," I told her. She put her hand to her mouth and said,
"Am I?" in a sickly sweet voice. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Just 'cause you're new doesn't mean you get star treatment."
"Stealing your spotlight, am I?"
"Don't even think about it, pig."
"Wasn't going to, whore."
"You're gonna regret that." I shrugged.
"I don't give a shit."
"You should do. You're gonna get it so bad." She glared at me, so I chuckled and glared back. She took a step away, probably at my scary guardian face. "Freak."
"Wanker." She gasped at Matt Bellamy's favourite insult (or so I assumed) and stalked away, shaking her barely-covered arse in our faces until, suddenly, she tripped over a bowl dropped by a Year 7. She went flying into another table and got spaghetti all down her clothes. She whirled around and yelled at the Year 7 who was crying. The canteen went eerily silent-except for me. I burst into hysterics, eyes shut and all. What an idiot! The girl turned towards me as I laughed and, as the entire school held a collective breath, yelled,
"You're so gonna pay for that!" I continued to laugh. "Seriously! Why won't you listen to me! It's all your fault and you're going to PAY!" Some of the other girls in the canteen started giggling now, and one of the dinner ladies escorted the girl out. Way to make an impression, Amy. I grinned at Becca, who looked a little uneasy.
"Still gonna join them?" I questioned.
"She thought I was worthy," she mumbled. I gave a harsh laugh.
"Worthy of what?"
"Her. Being her friend. Being popular again." I stared at her, and then shook my head.
"She reminds me of you." And then I dumped my bowl and walked away, hoping she would follow me yet hoping she didn't. It was a difficult line to walk.
She didn't come. I didn't see her again until German. She came in late.
"Where have you been?" the prim German woman who taught us wondered.
"Out," Becca muttered through a mouthful of celery.
"You know you can't come in late like this."
"Sorry, miss." But she didn't mean it. She found the spare desk beside me, dumped her bag and put her legs up on the table. The entire class gaped at her.
"Excuse me, Miss...Torres? I do not approve of you disrupting my class."
"But I'm not. I'm just sitting down."
"We have a no-feet-on-table policy here at Wapping Gardens. In fact, I think you'll find that in most schools. Didn't you go to Chelmsford County High?"
"Yeah, well, I thought it'd be more relaxed here. Looks like I was wrong and you're all bossy bitches like the rest of them." We all inhaled at once and the teacher looked stormy.
"Detention in Miss Entmann's office. NOW!" Becca stood up, tucked her chair under her table when I put my hand up.
"Um...excuse me, Miss Hiner. I have to go with Becca." Miss Hiner frowned before nodding.
"Of course," she replied. "Amelia, I give you permission to go with Rebecca." I let myself out and we headed to the headmistress' office.
"What the hell was that?" I hissed. "You know you can't do that!"
"Why not?" she whispered back.
"Because, I don't know, it's rude. Impolite and makes you look disinterested-"
"Which I was."
"-and disrupts the lesson. You also destroy the furniture and disrespect the class. This is real school, Becca. With rules. Get used to that."
Miss Entmann's lecture was impressive. I tuned out, as it wasn't my lecture, and she knew it. Becca really did look sorry at the end of it, but I was just bored and glad to get to PE.
We changed quickly in the stuffy rooms that smelt of feet and then jogged out to the astro turf.
"Okay, girls!" a stocky woman named Mrs Gilbert yelled. "Today we are starting Hockey." A few groans, including that of my own, rang out amongst the group. "One lap around the astro, please, girls." I started off, sprinting my way around, way ahead of even the best joggers in the class. Without training, I hadn't been able to jog this without getting out of breath. Now the sprint took me 30 seconds and left me a bit energised. The teacher seemed shocked, so I sat down and watched Becca die. She was the worst by far. GCSE PE. It was almost comical-for a Moroi, that is. The teacher showed us some skills to try out, which I'd never been able to grasp, and then we started a game. I was a midfield or something and I sprinted up and down, whacking people playfully on the kneecaps when Mrs Gilbert wasn't looking. Our team won, of course, and as I sprinted back to get changed, Miss Gilbert called my name. I jogged up to her.
"You were brilliant out there. Not so much at the hockey skills." I looked at my feet sheepishly as she 'praised' me, knowing that, even as a dhampir, I would always be crap at team games. "However, your athletic ability is outstanding. I'd like to invite you to the athletics club."
"Athletics club?" I'd never even considered going to one before. "That'd be great!"
"Good. It's every Friday at lunch, and we're currently training for Sports Day."
"In winter?" Sports Day was usually in summer.
"Here at Wapping Gardens we pride ourselves in being unique." Yeah. Seemed like that. "Now, go. Get changed or you'll miss your bus." Never mind that I didn't get a bus, I hurried away anyway.
So, if you're a MUSEr, like Amy and I : ), who's excited about Matt Bellamy's baby? ME! I hope he has Matt's eyes. And talent. And...well...everything!