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Silence falls over us for a beat before she slides a copy of my schedule across the desk ready for us to discuss.
“How have your classes been?”
“Great.”
“I know you’ve only had two so far, but if you feel anything needs to change, if you’ve made a mistake, it’s better to speak up sooner.”
“I’m confident in my choices, Miss Hill,” I assure her.
“Okay. Well, in our last meeting you talked about your love of cheerleading and gymnastics. As promised, I’ve spoken to Miss Peterson about you joining the gymnastics squad. They train on Tuesdays and Thursdays after school. She also got this for you… I know a number of her girls attend classes.”
Miss Hill slides over a folder with UKCA printed across the front.
“Thank you. I appreciate it, but I’ve already signed up to a local club. I’m starting Wednesday night.”
“That’s great. I’m so glad you can continue with something you love.”
“Yeah,” I mumble, more than ready to get out of here and figure this place out first-hand.
Thankfully, the bell rings out through the old building we’re sitting in, signalling the start of lunch.
“I guess I should let you go and find some food. Our sixth form restaurant is great, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”
The fact that she calls it a restaurant makes my brows rise. I’m used to old cafeterias with equally as old and tasteless food.
“If you need anything, my door is always open. I know starting here is going to come with some challenges, but I’m confident you’re going to thrive.”
“Thank you,” I say as sincerely as possible, before grabbing my purse from the floor and heading for the door.
“Do you need directions?” she offers.
“I’m sure I can figure it out,” I say, taking off down the hallway.
I was given a chaperone first thing this morning to help me find my way around, seeing as almost all the other kids have spent their entire school lives in Knight’s Ridge, but I quickly blew off the goodie two shoes, who looked about ready to explode with excitement over the fact that she’d been chosen for the role. I almost felt bad when her bottom lip wobbled after I told her that her services wouldn’t be needed. I had a map, courtesy of my previous visit to Miss Hill’s office. And after all, schools aren’t exactly that hard to navigate. It’s almost a hobby of mine at this point.
The scent of garlic and cheese is enough to lead me in the direction of the restaurant. I walk down the hallways of the old stone building most of the sixth form is situated in, taking in the pristine paint and the artwork on the walls and wonder just how the hell I ended up here.
Where are the old, damaged lockers? The graffiti? The kids having fights in the dark corners where no one’s watching… or worse.
Other students pass me, each one dressed the same as the other.
The girls in their hideous tartan skirts—the length of said skirt telling me all I need to know about their social standing—boys in their badly fitting grey pants, and everyone in the same tie and navy blazer.
It’s bizarre. And it’s going to take some time to get used to, I’m sure.
The second I step into the restaurant, though, everything begins to look a little more normal—the building with its high vaulted ceilings aside. There are kids queuing for food and others sitting around the huge array of tables.
It takes me no more than five seconds to work everyone out.
There are the IT nerds, the artists, the science geeks, the student body council, the girls who are too shy to look at a boy, and the boys who are horny but too terrified to even risk looking at a pair of tits in case they shoot their load in their pants. And then, right at the back of the vast hall, is Knight’s Ridge royalty.
Unlike the rest of the room, these guys are sitting atop the tables and one of them has a speaker set-up, filling the room with obnoxious hip-hop.
I spot a couple of the girls from my classes. All of them seem to be wiggling about in the guys’ laps, staring up at them as if they’re something special.
The second I get a look at their faces, I realize they really fucking aren’t. They’re just the same pig-headed, arrogant assholes that seem to think they control everything.
They’re hot. Sure. But they all know it, too.
