08 APRIL 2003
"Okay, uh… eye spy with my little eye… a fish!" AJ barked with enthusiasm, evoking a chuckle out of Lee as he watched the road.
"Aw, come on. Now that's too ea–"
"Lake," Clementine interrupted, her hand propping up her disgruntled face atop of the door's armrest.
"–sy…" Lee disappointedly continued, pursing his lips. The car zoomed past the sun-twinkled lake before the driving straight back into the woodlands.
"Damn it! How do you do that?" AJ sat dumbfounded, folding his arms.
Clementine wouldn't dare to look her foster father in the eye; she was at her wits end with this whole boarding school fiasco. She didn't have to be punished like this, because no one did. Not even the pettiest of mutts. Boarding schools were just prison for kids that no one would listen to. If it weren't for Audrey, Clementine would be snoozing in first hour Calculus right now. Instead, she was confined to the leathers of Lee's station wagon, forced to sit through a foolish nine a.m. game of I Spy. She was suffocating, and it was all because of Audrey. Audrey, Audrey, Audrey. Her last Monday of freedom was spent brooding over the fact that her life was essentially over. She packed the rest of her belongings, took Sam for one last walk, and had a nap to adjust her sleeping schedule. Oh, right. Did she mention she had to wake up at four in the morning just to get there by noon? Lee took one hell of a sick-leave and even pulled AJ out of pre-school for the next two days just to drive her to some hell-hole on steroids. Audrey was on yet another one of her "business trips," which meant she didn't want to stick around to watch Clementine beg for her liberty one last time. Funny, she thought Audrey would have liked to see that.
"You gonna lighten up any time soon?" Lee playfully nudged her with his hand.
"Not unless you light a fire under my ass," she mumbled, a giggle immediately erupting from the young boy in the backseat.
"You swore," AJ said, a sly grin flickering onto his face. "You said ass, ass, ass–!"
"Language," Lee firmly warned, glaring sternly into the rear-view mirror before looking back at the road. "Look, I know you think I'm excited to send you off. But you know that ain't the case," he insisted. "I'll miss you. I always miss you when you're not around. Shit, I miss you right now. I didn't want it to go this way."
"Then don't let it," she persisted, dropping her hand in frustration. "If you really don't want me to leave, then don't let it happen."
"But it has to, for you," he assured her. "You're gonna come out the other end of this a better person. I'm just sorry it's not me who gets you to that point – like it's supposed to be."
Clementine's brows furrowed as she sighed. It seemed that disappointing Lee at every turn, around every corner, had finally taken its toll. This really did feel like the end. All the outbursts, all the shenanigans, the general crappiness… it was killing him more than it was killing her. Maybe it was time to succumb to her plight. She was on her way to a boarding school of all things, it was clear that Audrey had won. Maybe it was time to make Lee happy for once and just grow up. This was her last chance to prove herself worthy of amounting to something in this life – to be a good role model for AJ, a good daughter for Lee, and hell, a good "I'm better without you" to Audrey. All she had to do was face this school head on, and maybe then, she could come out on top of all this.
"I'll… Fine, I'll try, okay?" Clementine turned to him. "I'll try. Just… stop talking about it. Please."
Lee's lips formed a restrained grin. His head nodded as he averted his eyes back to the road.
"That's all I ask, Clementine."
As midday came, the woodlands soon engulfed the landscape with its abundance of trees and bushes. The road became almost intolerably bumpy as they grew closer to the rural and rugged area of West Virginia. Signs overgrown with plant-life guided them along the trail to the isolated location of the boarding school. The nearer it drew; the more Clementine felt her heart swell in her throat. Anxiety settled into her guts and into her bones and she could have sworn she was about to throw up. Emerging through the skyline were grungy, concrete walls that imprisoned what she unfortunately realized to be the campus. Her assumptions of a clean, preppy boarding school were quickly scrimmaged by the chipped bricks and rusted gates. Security guards wielding guns and batons in their holsters accompanied the thick walls, keeping stern eyes out for what she could only think of as desperate children trying to escape. This didn't look like some posh boarding school in the fields of England, this looked like misery.
"Oh man, does he have a gun?" AJ leaned forward in awe.
"Gun?" she reiterated, her horrified eyes appealing to her foster father for comfort. "Are you kidding me?"
Lee stayed quiet as he drove towards the iron-barred swing gates that towered before them, solemnly avoiding the confrontation of her pleading eyes. As he came to a stop, the two patrolling guards casually strolled up to either side of the car. Lee immediately rolled down his window to give his name and state of business to the expectant guard on his side. Meanwhile, in the midst of her caution, Clementine's eyes glued to the other guard that paced around her side of the car, examining his stature, his utensils, and more terrifyingly, his opaquely black sunglasses. There is no sun. After a few seconds of leisurely scoping the car out, the guard bent over and stared at the girl through the window. At least that's what she assumed, being that she couldn't see his eyes.
"I like his glasses," AJ commented, watching the man through his window.
"Stop talking," Clementine ordered of her brother.
"We'll get the gates," one of guards informed Lee with a nod. He finally rolled up the window and glanced over at her encouragingly.
"He seemed nice," Lee said in a bid to relieve her, but Clementine sunk down into her seat, burying her chin into her sweater.
"Well, he had cool glasses," AJ quietly echoed, leaning back into his seat.
With the assistance of the guards, the gates widened to reveal the circular courtyard of the grounds. As a colonial building encapsulated the view of the windshield, Clementine slowly lifted herself up to inspect her impending doom. The car rode leisurely around the roundabout, allowing her to take in her unanticipated surroundings. Groundskeepers mowed the vibrant, green grass, but the pathways were cracked and dirt-ridden. The buildings were clean for the most part, but were old and worn down. This place had surely been around for a while. It was as if she walked into a physical oxymoron, unable to determine whether it was your average, immaculate boarding school or crummy juvenile centre. The few kids who wandered around the courtyard stopped to watch the car pull in with their uninviting eyes. They weren't in any pristine boarding school uniform or prison jumpsuit like she expected – instead, they wore average clothes, like average kids, going at an average school. Alongside the gut-wrenching fear she harboured, Clementine thought she couldn't be any more lost than what she currently felt.
Lee pulled up in front of the main building, the one with four white, colonial pillars. He set the handbrake and sighed, worryingly glancing over at his foster daughter.
"This is where you're leaving me?" a baffled Clementine asked, observing the courtyard from her window again.
"Looks kinda… yucky," AJ admitted, examining the campus.
"It ain't that bad, Clem. I know it looks intimidating, but all you gotta do is follow the rules and you'll be out of here in no time," he said, attempting to comfort her.
Clementine looked over to Lee with concern, witnessing the mandatory smile he forced onto his face. She was here now, there was nothing she could do. And as it dawned on her, she deadpanned and sighed in defeat. There was no going back now.
"If I make it that long," she mumbled, her head falling back into the headrest.
She forced the car door open as Lee and AJ followed suit, reluctantly stepping out and grabbing her backpack before slamming the door. Lee headed to the trunk where her suitcases were, leaving her to analyse the pillared buildings again as he grabbed them. Without warning, AJ unexpectedly charged up to his sister and bear-hugged her, nuzzling the side of his face into her stomach.
"I'm gonna miss you, Clem," he admitted despite maintaining his usual giddiness. She pried his small arms from her body and knelt in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"I'll miss you too, goofball," she muttered just audible enough for him to hear. A smile inevitably stretched her lips.
"Promise me you'll be good so you can get out of here faster?" his voice hardened stringently, pointing at her. "I don't like it when you're not around. There's nothing to do."
"I'll be out in no time, AJ, don't worry about it. As long as you promise me to make Lee take Sam for walks while I'm gone, I'll be good," she compromised.
"Deal," he nodded, grinning widely.
Lee closed the trunk and grabbed her two beige suitcases from the ground, making his way over to his foster children beside the car. She stood from the ground and took them from Lee's hands, her smile falling from her face as reality wormed its way into her head.
"You be good now, you hear?" Lee insisted, placing his hand upon her shoulder.
"Whatever," she shrugged, glancing at the car. With his thumb and index finger, Lee grabbed her chin and directed her gaze back towards him, his brows furrowing at her.
"Be good," he reiterated firmly, causing her expression to soften. She wanted to – she wanted to for him. But she just didn't know how. He planted a kiss on her forehead, something so bittersweet, and motioned his head for her to enter the building.
For the first time in a while, she finally listened to her foster father, and did just what he said. She marched herself up the stairs, forcing the lump in her throat back down her oesophagus, and walked straight into the main building. If it weren't for the few updated pieces of furniture, Clementine could have sworn she walked into an old, bourgeois, Victorian mansion. Trophy cases, upholstered loveseats, framed paintings of fruit – the haughty décor was borderline repulsive, she could only grimace as she slowly walked towards the wooden staircase. On either post of the stairs was a plaque – one with an upwards facing arrow that directed her to the Headmaster's office, and the other, to Youth Services. As she looked up, she noticed the staircase split into two directions only to end up on the same level, meters away from each other. What the...? After staring at the redundant architecture for a few moments, she eventually hauled her suitcases alongside her as she trudged up the stairs. She stopped to breathe once she made it to the top, examining the horizontal hallway she was soon to step into. Before she could fully recognise the sign for the Headmaster's office, a formally clad woman in black kitten-heels appeared out from one of the heavy-doored offices. Her bold, brown eyes peered up from her clipboard and noticed the stray teen at the staircase.
"Oh, you're our new arrival. Miss Everett, right?" the woman's voice was powerfully domineering as she approached the teen, her hand extended out. "I'm the Deputy Headmistress, Ms Lilly Caul," she introduced.
"Hi Ms… Lilly Caul," Clementine awkwardly greeted, her head motioning down to her suitcases, signalling she was unable to shake her hand.
The Deputy Headmistress frowned, still expectant of her reciprocation, however Clementine's unmoving gaze made it clear she wasn't budging. With annoyance, the woman sighed and dropped her hand.
"Just Ms Caul," she corrected, her tone firmer. She then pointed to the door she exited from. "The Headmaster is expecting you in his office. Don't make him wait."
Clementine forced a painful huff, again motioning to her suitcases.
"Can't really open the door…" she fumbled her smile.
Ms Caul strenuously rolled her eyes at the girl before whirling around and opening the door for her.
"Miss Everett, sir," Ms Caul bleakly introduced, allowing her to step in.
"Holy crap…" Clementine disgustedly mumbled, causing Ms Caul to clear her throat at the brash words.
The interior was almost pristine. From the executive bookshelf that spanned over the wall, to the inbuilt fireplace – her scabby high school was nowhere near as pompous as this. The Headmaster spun around on his leather-upholstered chair, revealing his big build almost ominously. Clementine tried to refrain from humouring his inadvertently comical chair swing, accidentally letting a scoff come out. The skin on his face had sagged and wrinkled so harshly that the resemblance of a bulldog was not far off. His cheeks wobbled with every slight movement he made. It was severely off-putting.
"Much appreciated," he gave Ms Caul a nod. "Oh, Lilly, before you go— could you also excuse Mr Reynolds from class for me, please?" His swanky accent made it hard for Clementine to pinpoint whether he was ordinarily this cavalier sounding, or just enjoyed sounding like a douche for the fun of it.
"Will do," Ms Caul complied through a sigh.
"Come and take a seat, Miss Everett," he invited as Ms Caul left, gesturing to the lounge seats across his desk.
She dropped her bags besides the seat and slumped down, watching the man observe her through his characteristically round glasses. He arose from his upholstered office chair and rested his hands behind his back, staring her down the bridge of his nose.
"Welcome, Miss Everett. My name is Brian Grant Ericson, Headmaster here at Ericson's Boarding School. Now, I'm not too fussed with what you decide to call me. Headmaster or Mr Ericson will do just fine," he made clear with a nod of his head. "This school has been in my family for generations – my father was a Headmaster, as was his father, all the way up to my great, great grandmother, Arabella Ericson," he explained, slowly pacing behind his desk. "As you may have already seen, there is no requirement of a uniform at this school." She raised her brows in surprise. "The only exceptions to this are P.E. uniforms and the Ericson bomber jackets we issue to students during the winter. Here at Ericson's Boarding School, we deem it substantial for students to be able to express individual identity in a manner that does not harm themselves or others." His eyes then observed her expression – the concoction of relief and bewilderment on her face caused him to scoff. "You're troubled, Miss Everett. Not a prisoner," he assured her, bearing a slight condescension to his tone.
"The armed guards outside tell a different story," she challenged, her brow rising in suspicion.
The man chuckled.
"Those guards are not out there to combat you, young lady. They are safety precautions we take when it comes to strange persons wandering onto campus. They will, of course, enforce the rules onto students, but weapons are definitely not used against you under any circumstance. Our guards are trained to disarm youth without the use weaponry," he assured her. "Nonetheless, we aim for reform. Not blind obedience. However, with that being said, we do require your complete and total cooperation if you are to benefit from what our school has to offer. If you aren't willing to cooperate, then by all means, you are at your liberty to leave."
Stunned by the causality of his tone, Clementine hesitantly perked up.
"Just like that? I can leave?" she asked, leaning out of her seat.
"Well, if you want to be eaten by bears, that is. Or get lost and starve to death in woods – it's your choice, really," he chuckled, watching her eagerness retreat back into her seat. "If you want to leave, Miss Everett, your parents or guardians need to unenroll you. You simply cannot stroll off the campus at your liking. We have rules here, young lady. Rules to ensure you and the students around you are safe. On these premises, there is to be no smoking, no consumption of alcohol, no buying, distributing, or consumption of narcotics, no skipping your classes, no brawling– "
"Brawling…" she scoffed at the old-timely word.
"–no threatening or abusive behaviour towards staff or students of any kind, and no prohibited weapons. If a weapon is found on your person, depending on the weapon, you may face consequences ranging from suspension to detainment by police. You are not to leave school grounds for any reason without a supervisor to drive you or without parent or guardian confirmation and transport. Do I make myself clear?" he asked, earning her gaze. She stared up at him in response, however, it didn't suffice.
He had completely drained the life out of her and she hadn't even been here for five minutes. Of course a man as boring and clean-cut as 'Brian Grant Ericson' was running a boarding school. You wouldn't find someone with a cool name like Enzo, or Siobhan, or Lee running a boarding school in the middle of goddamn nowhere.
After a few seconds of uncomfortable eye contact, she eventually nodded her head in agreement. As the Headmaster began to speak, a knock at the door captured his attention.
"Come in," he called out, sitting back into his chair. Clementine stared at the Headmaster as she listened for the voice of the visitor.
"You wanted to see me, sir?" a young man spoke.
"Yes, Mr Reynolds, we have a new student here that I would like for you to show around," he gestured over to her as she slowly sank into her seat. "Her guidance notes are right here. I suggest stopping by the dormitories first so she may put her bags down and whatnot."
As the boy came into view, he reached for the papers on the desk and casually scanned over them. Turning towards her, he held out his hand for her to shake without missing a beat.
"Hey there, I'm Marlon. Head of the Sophomore student body."
Clementine unwittingly sensed a snotty aura from the boy in front of her. She always felt odd around the high and mighty – it seemed cold and uninviting up there. The entire concept of someone considering themselves above you was soul draining. Who wanted to be regarded as inferior? He might as well have introduced himself as "better than you," at least then there would be an ounce of respect for someone who's honest about his assholish-qualities. That was, until, she focused on him more intensely. The choppy mullet, the battered bomber jacket, the bitten fingernails – 'snotty' was just pushed aside by 'painfully ordinary.'
"Clementine," she brusquely responded, ignoring his gesture and standing from her seat.
Marlon glanced down at his unengaged hand and shrugged breezily at the Headmaster.
"As the school day's almost over, I don't expect you to start classes until tomorrow morning," the Headmaster told her, "so make yourself comfortable and be ready by then. Your dorm room, locker number, and class schedule are on the papers Mr Reynolds has. Your assigned guidance counsellor will be checking in with you soon, and as always, I hope your stay here is helpful, Miss Everett."
Clementine returned his seemingly disingenuous smile with an insincere nod and hoisted her bags up. Her guide led the way out of the office and waited for her beside the heavy-set doors.
"You need help with those?" he asked as she finally approached him, leaning in to grab one of her suitcases.
"I'm fine," she tugged her luggage back, her glare hot and pointed.
"I'm sure you are," he began with a grin, "but you look a little ridiculous holding two huge bags on your own. Let me hold one for you, at least," he insisted, firmly pulling one of the bags from her hand as he politely smiled.
"This doesn't make you any sort of gentleman," she assured him, raising her now free hand to her hip.
"You know, despite knowing that, I think I'll still be able to sleep at night," he smirked at her. "Follow me."
As Marlon headed down the stairs, Clementine unwillingly pursued. She found it a little degrading that a boy with a poorly composed mullet was her shining light in middle of this dingy school – let alone, the head of the year level. Did the Headmaster genuinely like Marlon, or was he just some little errand boy? As high and mighty as he presented himself, he must have got things done around here to hold such a "prestigious" title. Hell, did that even mean anything in some unconventional boarding school?
As they reached the bottom of the staircase, Marlon handed over one of the pamphlets from the guidance papers.
"Alright, so this is your map," he said, motioning again for her to grab it. "This is gonna be your holy grail for the next few days you're here. This is a pretty big school, we wouldn't want you getting lost in it."
Peering down at it, she disregarded his assistance and continued to walk towards the exit. She didn't want some stupid map of some stupid school from some stupid boy with a stupid bomber jacket. She wanted to get out of here and go back to Georgia where her life was. Not be strung around the prison she was forced to live in for who knows how long. She knew she was meant to be making Lee proud by transforming into some miracle kid, but homesickness was inhibiting her desire to change. She was furious, nay, outraged that she even had to step foot in this place. She couldn't seem to let her bitterness go.
He watched her with perplexity as she left him behind, his arm still outstretched. Sighing, he dropped his hand.
"Alright, I get it, you don't want to be here. You were forced to come and now all you wanna do is get the hell out of this place, right?"
"Bingo."
"Well, you're not the only one, okay? No wants to be here when they first arrive," he told her, but despite her regret, her pride encouraged her to keep walking. "This place is gonna help you!" his voice grew louder, prompting her to halt. She turned around, scanning him with her narrowed eyes. "Take it from me. This place works."
"This place is working?" she huffed. "You have a mullet."
"And you have walls. Mental walls. Just like every other kid who walks into this place. So, if you want to spend your time here moping, wishing you could change what you can't, then go for it. Waste your time and everybody else's time. But if you wanna help yourself, then quit being so abrasive. It'll work wonders, Clementine, I promise."
Clementine looked away from him, biting the inside of her cheek as she processed what he said. His words were irritating, but she wasn't frustrated because he was wrong, she was frustrated because he was nothing but right. She already loathed giving the cold impression she was accustomed to giving, so his words just seemed to chip away at her obstinacy. Guiltily. Sighing forcefully, she eventually conceded. Clementine sulked back over to him and held out her hand, waiting for him to place the map into it. He smirked at her submission, handing the it over before gesturing towards the door.
"Lead the way," he said, following her as she begrudgingly left.
Crossing the courtyard, the two made their way over to the dormitory to drop off Clementine's bags. He explained whichever drawers were empty, were hers. And the sheetless bottom bunk was hers too. Almost as soon as they got there, they left and ventured to the building where the classrooms were. After breaking down her teenage apathy, she partially resented him for inexplicably encapsulating her into some 'defensive teen' archetype. Yes, she was bitter – wouldn't anyone be? But she knew she had to be tolerant for now. As much as it would feel satisfying to rip into Marlon, like making fun of his lame haircut or simply regarding him as 'hillbilly trash', she knew he was right and she knew she really did need his guidance. So alas, Clementine kept her resentment for him at bay and carried on.
"So, Clementine," Marlon began as they trekked through the halls, "how long do you think you'll be here?"
"Hopefully no more than ten minutes," she said, observing the banged-up lockers, "but something tells me I'll be here for a lot longer than that."
Marlon shrugged.
"Well, don't lose hope yet. Summer break starts in about eight weeks and, if you can, you get to go back home. See your family, your friends, it'll be like you never left," he informed her. "Besides, newbies don't tend to stay too long as of late. We haven't had a new kid stay for more than a couple weeks in a while now. They just don't stick around for good anymore."
As they turned the corner, the bell rang, and Clementine couldn't have been more unprepared for the flock of students to pour out of the classrooms. The chatter of kids bounced off the walls as they began opening up their lockers, loitering besides drink fountains, talking to one another, and more noticeably, staring at the new presence before them. Eyes – seemingly from everywhere – darted towards her as she tried to follow Marlon through the herd. They visually probed her, looking her up and down almost invasively.
"I think I can see why," she frustratingly shouted over the noise.
"Oh, you get used to the staring," he assured her. "Just don't make it a habit to stare back. Some people, uh, get the wrong idea."
From the corner of her eye, she noticed a kid throw a tall, lanky boy up against a row of lockers. The collision resonated throughout the hall, prompting nearby students to adjust their attention to the scuffle.
"That common here?" Clementine observed the two students as they wildly gripped each other's shirts.
"I wouldn't say otherwise. That small kid? That's Russell. He's new too and, uh, quite the hothead as you can tell." As he walked past the commotion, Marlon cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting at them as they went by. "Hey idiots! Put your dicks away and get to your next class! Coach Randall's gonna need that intensity on the field, not in your diapers, ya babies!" he barked at them, earning nothing but distasteful glares.
Clementine huffed.
"Witty," she said, crossing her arms. Unimpressed by the two, Marlon shook his head.
"The people here, they ain't that bad," he reassured as they continued down the hallway. "You've got your handful of dick-swingers, that much I know of. But there's some good people in these halls. Like my best friend Louis, I've known him since I was kid. He's been by my side ever since. You don't find that kind of loyalty just anywhere," he told her. However, doubt filled her mind.
"So, he's loyal because he goes to a boarding school?" she raised her eyebrows skeptically.
"No, I met Louis back at home. In Indiana. His parents shipped him off here after he, uh… did something he shouldn't have. They heard this school was working wonders for me, so off he went. But no matter what this school throws at us, we're still brothers. What I'm saying is these aren't just your run of the mill kids, Clementine. They've been through things you wouldn't imagine. Been around people who showed them what pain was. They appreciate good people when they see them."
"Yeah, well, all I see is a bunch of freaks," she replied, scanning the students who passed by. Marlon huffed.
"Look in the mirror, Clementine," he smirked, stopping in the middle of the hall to look at her. "You're at home."
She deadpanned at him; he couldn't be anymore wrong. She wasn't made for this place. This place was suffocation; it was claustrophobic. Not even fifteen minutes in and this place already had its boot on her neck. This wasn't home, this was some big, haughty man sitting on top of a small, concrete box of rabid roaches. And Clementine was in that box, trapped and smothered.
Her eyes suddenly caught sight of two boys slowing down beside her, scrutinizing her coldly as they went past. Marlon immediately grabbed her shoulder and pulled her alongside him, briskly evacuating the area.
"Oh, they're, uh, they're the St. John brothers," he told her, a nervous laugh escaping his mouth. "Don't go near them. They're, um, they're actually weird."
"See?" she crossed her arms.
As they passed another corner, a girl amongst her friends leaned against a locker and eyed the pair – more specifically, Marlon. He glared back at the girl, speaking through his gritted smile.
"Darling," he addressed her, almost like he was greeting his sworn enemy and earning nothing but narrowed eyes from her. "Seen Louis around?" he asked, finding her unmoving gaze in response. He shook his head as they eventually passed by her, Clementine remaining silent as confusion grew.
As the second bell rung, the bustling students poured into the surrounding classrooms. What started so abruptly ended just the same way. The halls thinned out and made it easier for Clementine to navigate her tour guide's whereabouts. Eventually, as the tour continued, Marlon showed her the remaining buildings of the school. Their library was somewhat bigger than her old schools, even having an IT lab adjacent to it. The daunting cafeteria that was conjoined to the classroom building was huge. They had a baseball field and a greenhouse, too. The tour finished inside the gymnasium, where Marlon eventually led her back to her dormitory.
"Here's your other papers," he rested the stack on the desk in front of the bunk bed. "You're gonna meet your other dorm mates when classes are over for the day."
"How many are there?"
"I think Vi, Sarah, and Brody are in here with you. The last girl they had in here had to move to another dorm after Violet, uh, scared her away," he mumbled the last bit, staring at the ground regrettably. "Well, she was kind of a dick, anyway. So at least it was deserving. But they're nice girls once you get to know 'em. I promise," he assured her, placing his hand over his heart.
"Great," she said through a huff.
"If there's anything you need, you come find me, okay? I'm more than happy to help," he insisted, walking backwards to the door. "Get yourself all nice and settled in and be up at half past seven. First class starts at eight so be ready by then and I'll be waiting outside to take you." She stared at him, unimpressed.
"Trying to make sure I don't skip out on class?" she questioned.
"Actually, I'm gonna make sure you know where it is," he grinned at her, before turning back around and opening the door.
Before he could leave, Clementine audibly cleared her throat, her brows furrowing almost cautiously.
"Um, Marlon?" she called out to him, catching his attention. "Am…" she glanced away, worry striking her face, "am I going to be okay here?" she questioned, folding her arms.
"If you wanna be, then yeah," Marlon shrugged. "You gotta think smart, Clementine. That's how you make it here. And hey," he paused, catching her gaze with his arms proudly stretched out. "Welcome to Ericson's Boarding School for Troubled Youth," he smirked.
Locker 343 is… right by the fountain I passed twice, Clementine thought to herself. What a shocker.
As she was unpacking her belongings back at the dorm, a messenger-pigeon freshman bugged Clementine to go collect her textbooks from the library. By the time she set out to do so, the bell had just rung and boy, oh boy would there be encounters with hordes of students. To avoid conversation with anyone, she grabbed Lee's old Walkman and popped her headphones on before she left. She wished she didn't have to resort to such an old way of listening to music, but Lee couldn't afford to buy a new MP3 player and something tells her that was due to some lousy boarding school fees. And, well, not being the greatest of daughters around. The librarian was some saggy, old lady with a blonde pixie cut and pink, freshly painted nails. A real "get me your manager" type. She called herself Dee. Dee dumped the books in front of the girl and explained how grateful she should be that her parents actually paid for textbooks. So, as usual, Clementine didn't utter a word as she took the books and left.
Clementine reached into her pocket and pulled out the scrunched wad of paper. Inputting her locker combination, she opened it up to find it dusty, a little crummy, and definitely old. At least there's no roaches… I think. Helping to detach from the world around her, she raised the volume of the mixtape Lee put together for her. It reminded her of those warm summers nights where she laid out on her bed, cracked open the window, and blasted her music as loud as she wanted because Audrey was on a business trip. Lee never minded as long as she turned it down by ten, just so the neighbours wouldn't leave a passive-aggressive note in their mailbox the next day. She knew it was those little, insignificant moments she was going to miss. Those tiny freedoms of living in your own home with your own stuff in your own bedroom. Sometimes AJ would burst through the door and put the volume louder so he could hear the music from his bedroom. And sometimes, she let him stay with her.
In the midst of unloading her books, a guy slid into her vision beside her locker with ease. Too much ease, if you asked her. His lips formed words but as far as a Walkman on volume ten went, she couldn't hear a single thing. And she wasn't about to. The more he tried talking to her, the more she continued to unload her books. The cropped dreadlock-fashioned boy kept a tight smile the whole time he spoke, almost as if she was listening. He then stared at her, expectant of a response, before talking again. Out of confusion as to why he was still talking to her, she grimaced at him. She couldn't hear a word he was saying and there wasn't any plans to change that, so why on earth was he still talking? She eventually shut her locker, swooped her backpack over her shoulder, and left him to talk to her shadow. When a person wore headphones, it typically wasn't an invitation to strike up conversation. She didn't care if her shirt was on backwards or if she was about to walk right into oncoming traffic – wanting to be bothered was at the very bottom of her list of desires. If it weren't for Lee's words of encouragement and Marlon's nagging reminder to "stop being so abrasive" periodically springing into mind, she would've easily told him and his stupid dreadlocks to buzz off as soon as he harboured the thought of approaching her.
Clementine left the building and crossed the courtyard to get back to the dorms. As she returned to her room, she noticed two of her dorm mates idling beside her bunk – beside her belongings. One peered over the open suitcase sitting atop of her bunk, while the other leaned against the bedpost, watching her examine the mountain of clothes. Clementine immediately pulled off her headphones.
"What the hell are you doing?" she asked protectively of her stuff, stalking towards her bunk. The girl closest to her suitcase almost jumped out of her skin, staring bewilderingly at Clementine through her rose-coloured frames.
"Oh, s- sorry! Sorry, I'm so sorry, I was just- I mean, I was- I'm sorry…" the girl continued to stumble over her words, prompting the other girl beside her to roll her eyes.
"She wasn't touching your stuff or anything, she just gets curious sometimes. She doesn't mean any harm or whatever," she clarified, leaning off the bedpost. Clementine sighed to herself, attempting to finish her unpacking in order to avoid conflict. The girl with the glasses scurried out of her way once Clementine approached her and retreated to her own bunk. "Uh, my name's Violet. And this is Sarah," she gestured to the girl with the glasses, "if you care…"
Clementine side-eyed Violet's blonde, cropped bob, and offered a shrug as acknowledgment.
"Do… do you speak much?" Sarah questioned. "It's okay if you don't—"
"Ohhh my god," Violet smacked her forehead with her palm, causing Clementine to grin. "Why the hell would you ask that?"
"I- I just wanted to know," Sarah meekly defended.
"I talk," Clementine affirmed, folding one of her shirts.
"Well, no one shuts up at this school, so you should fit just right in," Violet joked. A knock at the door broke the attention of all three girls and in popped the ginger head of a kind face.
"Hey, Vi—oh," the teen halted, "new girl," she acknowledged with surprise. Clementine's hand raised to her hip.
"Are you Brody?" she asked, forcing a scoff from the girl.
"No, but I think we all wish we could be finger-blasted by Marlon in the janitor's closet," she joked, a snort of laughter soon following. Clementine blinked in perplexity as Sarah gasped. "Marlon? The dude who looks like a Lost Boy?" she continued as Clementine still stared at her. "Uh, forget it. It doesn't matter. I'm Minerva. I just came by for Vi." she shook her head, casually jerking her thumb at Violet as she approached her.
"More like became bi for Vi," Violet quipped, cheekily grinning at the red head as she nudged her.
"Quit it, you," Minerva chuckled, her elbow nudging her back.
Unexpected to Clementine, Minerva gently cupped Violet's cheeks in her hands and leaned in for a chaste, swift kiss. Violet then turned to Clementine with the remnants of her smile and leaned against the bedpost again.
"Hey, uh, Clementine. We're all heading to the music room, if you wanna join us," she offered, prompting an unanticipated glance from her girlfriend. "Sometimes some of the band geeks jam in there after class. So, y'know, if that's your thing…"
Voluntarily listen to pretentious, snivelling music enthusiasts who think they're Bach while they play their instruments and tell her all about how her own music taste sucks?
"I think I'm gonna keep unpacking," Clementine insisted with a shrug, keeping her eyes on the pair of jeans she was folding.
"Sure, whatever suits you." Violet leaned off the bedpost and slid her hand into Minerva's. She gestured her head to the door, triggering Sarah to stand up and follow them as left the room. Before the door would close, Clementine called out Violet's name, prompting her to open it wider.
"Violet… is the computer lab open after classes?" she questioned, crossing her arms out of uncertainty of where to put them.
"Oh, uh, yeah," she nodded. "They don't close it 'til eight. They're also prehistoric shit-machines, so don't get your hopes up."
Clementine reluctantly nodded at Violet in acknowledgement. When it came to her own prehistoric shit-machine back at home, her fuse would shorten with every unnecessarily loud beep from the dial-up. She dropped some hints to Lee about buying a new one for the study, but being the sentimental teddy bear he was, he wouldn't replace it until it was virtually unable to function.
Violet nodded back at her and closed the door, leaving her to her own devices of amusement. Unpacking. Once she had put all of her belongings away, she decided to finally have some communication with the world back at home. Clementine pushed open the glass door of the library and B-lined for the IT lab. She stalked right past Dee and into the adjoining room where she darted towards one of the computers against the window. With a conversation on AOL's instant messenger in mind, she hastily booted up the cinderblock of a computer and waited impatiently for it to load up. Five minutes and a boredom-induced session of chipping off her nail polish later, and she was introduced to the Ericson's Boarding School log in screen.
"Ugh, what?" she grumbled to herself, inputting a random username and password with the far-reached hope it would work.
The 'log in attempt failed' screen popped up, causing Clementine to bang her fist on the desk in frustration.
"Hey, don't do that," a timid voice spoke from behind her, prompting Clementine to spin around on her chair. An almost chubby guy with socks and sandals stared back at her. He looked way too old to be a student, yet oddly young enough not to be staff. Nonetheless, to avoid getting in trouble, Clementine forced her brows to furrow sadly, hoping he would help her instead of possibly getting her into trouble.
"I don't have a log in," she said as she stared up at him. The guy perked up, pointing to her as if he had remembered something.
"Oh, you're the new one, aren't you? What was your name?" he asked.
"Clementine," she replied, but earned an expectant look back. She raised a brow at him. "Everett."
"Sweet. I've got your log in back at the desk, I'll go get it for you," he informed her before disappearing into the rows of computers.
"How many Clementine's can there be at this place…" she mumbled to herself as she spun back around.
Restoring her naturally pouty glare, Clementine impatiently stared at the log in screen. Naomi always logged onto AOL before heading off to her four o'clock basketball practice. If this guy was any slower, then she was sure to miss out on talking to her. Glancing around for the guy, Clementine instead locked eyes with a kid in a red beanie in the row behind her. His gaze hurriedly shifted away when they made eye contact, causing her to curl her top lip for a moment before the guy popped back into view.
"Here you go," he weakly smiled, handing her a strip of paper with her log in details. "I'm Mr Stevens, by the way. Head of IT. But you can call me Doug, like uh, all the other kids do… without permission," he mumbled insecurely. Clementine stared at him as he awkwardly peered off to the side, scratching the back of his head. Once she realized he wasn't going to leave without some sort of dismissal, she opted for a nod.
"Thanks…" she muttered, earning his own nod in response.
Once Doug ventured off to… wherever he went, Clementine logged in, continued to wait impatiently, and then doubled clicked on the internet browser. But upon typing in the URL on the AltaVista search engine and pressing enter, the browser led her to a godforsaken 'access denied' page. Her expression dropped.
"Not educational material?" she read aloud in outrage, swiftly re-entering in the URL again. They couldn't have blocked something as harmless as AOL, that was just absurd. However, the page continued to pop up again and with every attempt she made, the harder she would press the keys. "No, no, no…" she mumbled, spamming the enter key out of frustration.
"There's a way to bypass that, you know," a voice spoke up from way too close behind her.
Clementine flinched at the voice as she instinctively turned around. The kid with the red beanie had made his way up to her, arms folded breezily as he crouched down beside her. She looked him up and down with wide eyes before scooting her chair slightly further away from him.
"Uh… how?"
"Eh, it's easy," he smirked, lowering his head. "Any fool can do it. Even my sister back at her school. This place can't keep a kid out of a candy store if they tried," he boasted. Clementine deadpanned at him. This stooge was wasting her time, she needed answers and she needed it now.
"Then tell me," she demanded, prompting him to look up at her.
"Well, I can… if you do me a favour," he suggested, her face dropping as she turned back around to the computer.
"I don't do favours," she told him.
"Pretend to be my girlfriend for a month," he sporadically insisted. Clementine took her hands off the keyboard and turned around to glare at him.
"Get lost, kid," she spat back, and soon enough, his pseudo-charming façade had fallen at her resentful gaze.
"Come on, I'll help you bypass all the blocked websites! I promise!" he pleaded with her.
"I said get lost!" she raised her voice at him, prompting him to stand back up.
"Fine," he grumbled as he stalked back to his desk.
When faced with the access denied page yet again, Clementine groaned, banging her head on the keyboard in frustration. She knew that no matter how long she was here, nothing was going to be easy for her. In fact, this place was already a personal form of hell. If soul selling was on the table, then where in hell was the devil around here?