The FYP

Chapter Second

Chapter Second

TJ

 "Mate you alright?" I placed a hand on his shoulder.

 Nur was ahead of the pack, disappearing from sight when she turned right to enter the school grounds. The other students were streaming past us now, bags and music cases swinging off their shoulders. Some of them travelled in pairs, friends who had known one another for a long time or those who had just met and became friends. Most though were walking towards the school gates alone.

 Luke sighed. "Yeah, I'm alright. Let's go."

 We walked on in silence, the earlier cheeriness we shared with Nur (a nice name, easily remembered) gone. It was good to meet someone who knew the school already; I was actually hoping that she would be a close friend of ours. I mean, it seemed fated or something that we'd befriend a senior who could have helped us out.

 And things turned sour when Luke's older brother came into the picture. Or conversation actually.

 I glanced at him, worry obviously etched on my face. He had short brown hair, naturally curly but bombarded with hair gel to get it straight. His face was square-ish but you couldn't really see it if he lets his fringe cover his forehead. He had a pair of dark brown eyebrows above a set of green eyes, a sharp nose and a square jaw.

 I could see why Nur seemed to recognise Luke. He and his brother did look a lot alike. But I didn't say that aloud. Knowing Luke, he'd mope about if his brother's ever mentioned. But right now, he's just quiet. Thoughtful quiet; not angry quiet. A familiar six note tune played, coming from Luke's bag. He slid one side of his rucksack off to bring it in front of him, unzipped it and took his phone out.

 "It's him." He said, slinging his bag again. He typed something on his phone and then placed in his jeans' pocket. "We're suppose to meet him at the Square."

 At our orientation yesterday, a student guide had given a tour of the campus after we dropped our stuff off at the dormitories. It was said (in the brochure) that the late Francis Bonheur, the billionaire co-founder of the school, offered to have the school built on the many acres of land he owned. His home the Bonheur Manor was turned into the dormitories we had just left this morning at his request. When the school finally opened, he opted to live in a small house in the nearby village.

 The school’s architectural design was based on the Renaissance eras’ (again got this bit off the brochure). While we haven’t explored the school building itself, we were told of the four wings it contained: two for the divisions, one for the school’s offices and another for other facilities. The campus grounds itself had four courtyards, each named after the direction of a compass.

 The north courtyard featured a fountain a few yards after the school gates that acted as a roundabout for vehicles. Beyond that was a whole area of grass with pavements to walk on, with iron or stone benches along it every few metres. Students filed into the north courtyard, hanging about on the benches or on the fountain. Luke and I took the pathway that lead to the west courtyard.

 The Square, the guide explained was at the west courtyard, a place where most of the student population hung out. It was this shallow and square pit made of cement; three of its sides had steps that lead down into it, while the other was merely a wall. When we got there, we were greeted with the sights and sounds of the students already here.

 There were some who had their instruments out, guitarists, drummers and the like. Others were chatting lively with one another, meeting each other after the holidays. A blonde hair girl was spray-painting one part of the pit's wall, the words 'Welcome' forming. At the bottom of the pit, a battle was going on between two dancers, others forming a circle and cheering them on. Nur was among them, watching them with no really particular interest.