The hands of the large, antique clock hanging in the abyss of the dark green wall had not move since the last time I had looked at it–which I swear on all things good and cheesy is twenty minutes ago. I groan under my breath, recline further back into the very uncomfortable chair and gaze languidly around the Admissions Office. It is the very first room of the stone structure I was guided to by wooden signs. If it isn't for the modern twist of the large glass doors, I would have assume I had relocated to Hogwarts.
Across the rather spacious room is a woman perched behind an antique desk. Her hair is pulled as tight as physically possible to the back of her head while a pair of thin framed glasses are balanced on her turned-up nose. The only time she has verbally acknowledged my existence is when she had asked me for my name. Even that seemed to annoy her.
The silence is suffocating as is the tiny chair squeezing against my thighs. Was this chair fucking made for four year olds?
I sigh out, exasperated and glance down at the pamphlet on my lap that has been folded in a paper plane. I unfold the slick material and read over the printed lettering; Caldwell Academy, the school for troubled kids. That bullshit is printed on the front page under the school's crest.
The academy sat on the outskirts of Maddison; a small but vibrant town situated three hours, fourteen minutes and thirty two seconds outside Seattle. Trust me after my phone battery died all I could do was count the seconds away. It is a boarding school for troubled, dysfunctional youth. In more simpler words; me.
During my trial, my lawyer had encouraged me to enter a plea deal that indicated I was to spend my senior year at Caldwell Academy and in which my case will be reviewed at the end of the year. The alternative being that I am sent to a Juvenile Detention Centre for defacement and vandalism, endangering the life of a faculty member and…oh that's right, blowing up a while fucking high school cafeteria. Or so I assume. I wasn't paying attention at all during my court hearing. I just sat there staring at the judge because I swear she looked like Meryl Streep and I kept trying to sport the hidden cameras.
I mean, it wasn't my exact intention to cook the pancake that lead to a fire that subsequently ended in the very poorly timed explosion. Mr Jacob's testimony, however, sure made it sound like it. He obviously has never heard the term 'snitches get stitches' because if I die in this hell hole, I am coming back to haunt the fuck out him. My cousin Spencer wasn't tried because his stupid ass didn't get caught on the security cameras. Cameras that the school had installed without my knowledge.
Resting my head back against the wall, I allow my eyes to flutter shut. I didn't get any sleep at all on the plane ride because A; there was a piece of metal from the sticking into my hip bone and B; there was a man two rows in front who was snoring as if his respiratory system was failing.
Just as I am on the verge of peaceful slumber a loud cherry voice startled me, "Hayden Jones."
My eyes burst open and I bolt to my feet in fright. I glance across the room at a large male in a navy suit. He reminds me of a very fancy lumberjack as he walks through a dark oak doorway. I awkwardly shift my weight from leg to leg and my fingers play together behind my back.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I'm Headmaster Sullivan." He extends a hand as he reaches me and my gaze quickly darts down at it, "I hope I didn't keep you waiting."
"It wasn't that long." I lie through an overly sweet grin and latch my hand to his; shaking it firmly. I hope he can hear my inward rage screams through the brief contact. He smiles and we drop our hands from each other.
"Rachelle, can I please have the file for Miss Jones." Headmaster Sullivan orders the receptionist who complies to his demands instantly—unlike the fifteen minutes she took when I had asked for a tissue.
"I was hoping I wasn't late. My plane was delayed." I lie through a tight smile once more, retaining full knowledge that I had spent twenty minutes devouring two burritos at a Mexican restaurant on the way here.
"I had a feeling something like that would happen." He winks at me cheekily as Rachelle scurries over in her black kitten heels and passes a folder to him. I glare at her back as she returns to her desk and attempt to unlock some mutant-like power in which I could light the bitch on fire. Headmaster Sullivan turns to me, "This is for you."
I take the folder from him and gaze down at the school crest onto of the card paper. It was grey, white and blue; the same shades of the uniform I have seen attached to the bodies of smiling kids in pictures of the brochure.
"Inside you'll find everything you need; your class time table, dorm details, a set of keys, a school map and I do believe there is a menu for the school dining hall in there." He explains as if he's done it a million times before. "Dinner is served at six on weekdays in the Radcliffe Dining Hall, the school library is open from eight to ten and if I can recall the school gym and pool is open just a little earlier than that."
I bend down, pick up my bags and pull the straps onto my shoulders. I then give the metal handle of my floral suitcase a jiggle and a swift kick before it pops open and I raise it to it's full height. I smile even though I am deeply cringing at the fact that Headmaster Sullivan had the unfortunate pleasure of witnessing my awkward wrestling match with my suitcase.
"Oh and I'd appreciate it if you swing by my office tomorrow. Whenever you're free will do." He explains and clasps his hands together, "And other than that, I can officially welcome you to Caldwell Academy Hayden. I do hope you enjoy your senior year. You may go settle into you dorm now."
"Thank you, Headmaster, and I hope so too." I smile politely at him before I turn, walk towards the glass doors and push it open. The autumn air is crisp and dry and unlike the warm sea breezes in southern California but the sun is shining proudly in the cloudless sky. It brought a delicate warmth that spreads over the dark material of my sweater. I gaze up at the sky, dreading the inevitable and knowing it's going become increasingly colder over the months to come. I walk down the pavement outside the Admissions Office and glance to my left at the parking lot. I notice two police cars that I hadn't spotted earlier. Not intimidating at all…
I wander around the school grounds and take note of the emptiness. To sum the campus up in three words I would say dark, brick and ivy. The windows are white and double pained and the gutters above are packed with dried leaves and grass. It looks nothing like the pamphlet and really brings home the meaning of disappointed but not surprised. When it seems like I had been walking in circles and I realise I had no idea where the hell I was going , I pause by a bench and place down my bags. I huff. Nice job Hayden.
I pull the folder from the crook of my arm, stick my hand into the opening and sift through the sheets of paper before finding the school map. I also find my dorm information and slide that sheet out as well. My eyes flickered over the printed ink; Elwood Hall, Level 3, East Wing, Dorm 307. I skim over the layout of the map before hitting the paper against my face in frustration. I am heading in the complete opposite direction. Of course. Shoving the papers and folder into one of my two sports bag I then throw both of them onto my shoulders, grab my suitcase by the handle and head towards Elwood Hall.
When I reach the large brick building, I sigh with relief that I could finally take a nap. A dark oak sign sat outside on the green lawn that is in dire need of a groom. The sign notifies me that I this was indeed Elwood Hall and I am not a directionally challenged idiot. I continue to heave my heavy suitcase with a wonky wheel as I walk up to the building and push open the weighty wooden doors. The large foyer is thankfully empty when I awkwardly stumble inside, my bags creating a cacophony as they clash against the door frame. My eyes take a quick scan of the foyer, noting a large wooden staircase leading up to the first floor, a few leather chairs and benches and two vending machines; one for snacks and one for beverages. Two halls sat on my left and right, stretching along the building and lined with doors that most probably lead to dorm rooms.
Two guys casually walk into the foyer in that moment; one eating a bag of chips and the other looking at his phone. Both glance up at me at the exact same time with wide eyes as if they have never seen a girl before. I watch as the two climb the stairs, glance over their shoulders and stumble up the steps. They finally disappear into the first floor. Okay, that is definetly weird right? I carry on further down the third hallway facing the entrance door and venture deeper into the building. There is an elevator on my right which my lucky ass should be grateful for. There was a laundry room the next door down and facing the door doors was a supply closet. The window at the end of the hall looks out onto the trees that basically swamps the academy.
After squeezing myself and my bags into the metal box, I press the the button for the third floor. There is a floor of rooms above us and I began realising how populated this school really is. The hallway is quiet when the doors slide open and I spill out of the elevator. Room 307. I remember as I glance from left to right and read the numbers on the gold plates attached to the doors. Different thumps and melodies of music floats into the hall as I head in the direction of mine. I come to a stop in front of the door, breathing a sigh of relief that I have finally made it. At the sound of an opening door, my eyes gaze down the hall and watch as a cloud of steam pours out into the corridor. A guy walks out with a towel wrapped around his fragile hips and not an inch of muscle to be seen on him. His dark hair stuck to the pale skin of his large forehead. He smirks at me, "Everett's out at the moment."
Everett? That must be my new roommate. She must be one of those edgy hipsters. Cool, I can deal with hipsters.
He notices me straight away and swaggers over to me. With folded arms, he leans one puny bicep against the plaster wall. His eyes shamelessly scan me from head to toe and my nose screws up in disgust. "You know" He says, "this might just be my opinion but I'm positive you'd have a much more enjoyable experience with me than him. I highly recommend you take the offer. Room 319, baby."
Him? Did I just heart that correctly?
"Has anyone told you that you look like a woman's pinky finger?" I query in the most genuine tone and watch his sly smirk slip straight off his lips and crash to the ground like a nuclear bomb. It was harmonious music to me ears. "The resemblance is uncanny."
He pushes off the door frame, twig arms fall slack to his side and scowling lips scoff. He then turns and mutters, "Fucking bitch."
"Oh, so it's my fault now?" I question loudly and smile sweetly at his retreating bony back. I wave, "Nice chatting with you!"
Once he had disappeared into his room, I shake it off and retrieve my key from the folder. I shove it into the lock, twist it and push open the wooden slab. My feet carry me over the threshold and I raise my eyes from the ground to get a first look of my room. My eyes widen. My jaw drops. My stomach plummets. You've really outdone yourself now Hayden. You have landed yourself with possibly the worst type of roommate. It isn't in the 'they're creepily obsessed with horses' type. Nor was it the 'they cut my hair when I' m sleeping and make tiny voodoo dolls' type. It was the 'they have a penis' type.
Well, this is just fucking peachy.
His side of the room was incredibly messy. An unmade bed, shoes and various items of clothing are scattered over the wooden floors. Empty food packets lay on the desk, a small trash can is tipped over and there is basically one pathway from the door to his bed. Of course this could be a girl's room as easily as a boy's. However, his bedside table is open and I could see two boxes of condoms as well as a few open and used packets on the floor below. Lovely. My bags slip from my shoulders and land at my feet. Why is it me that this shit always seems to happen to? Isn't there some other cranky bitch that karma can fuck over?
I lock the door behind me incase 'Mr Women's Pinky Finger' from a few doors down returns. Crouching to the ground, I dig though my bags and retrieve my dorm arrangement sheet. I then stand and walk over to my bed, perch on the edge of the mattress and hold the single sheet up to my view. I didn't read it wrong. I am exactly where I am suppose to be; Elwood Hall, Room 307, East Wing. There must've been a mixup because I am very much female and, considering I haven't so much as heard a female since stepping inside this building, it's safe to say this dormitory hall is very much for males.
Sighing, I dramatically fall back onto my bed and stare up at the white ceiling. Maybe if I go back to the administration building, Rachelle might be a little more nicer this time. But then again, she didn't seem to like me when I said hello so I highly doubt that. My eyelids become heavy the more I over think and I rest a hand on my stomach. I should go…I should really go…I'll go after a quick nap.
Just a small…tiny…nap.