HEROES; 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐞

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞

MARILYN HARRIS THOROUGHLY DISLIKED THE FOOD AT ST FINBARRS BOARDING. It looked like sludge, with a side of snow, trampled with mud and dog shit. 

"This... is bangers and mash?" Thelma Swanson quizzed, as she and Marilyn took a seat along the bench at the table in the back corner of the Mess Hall, backs to the giant windows looking out onto the street. 
Thelma Swanson and Marilyn Harris had been best friends since they were 10 years old, when Thelma had pushed Marilyn off of the swing in the playground so she could have a go. Love at first sight evidently. 

Thelma was particularly tall, for she always wore black heels, her signature click-clacking alerting anyone of her presence 5 minutes before she'd enter a room. She was also rather beautiful- one of those girls blessed with red hair and freckles plotted across her face, charting the way to her bright eyes of enchanting forests, brown deer jumping freely throughout them. Marilyn most certainly was not jealous of Thelma- just consciously aware that her best friend was looked upon differently than her as she had huge tits and a charming grin. 

"It's bangers and mash, or we'll go hungry until breakfast tomorrow morning," Marilyn grimaced, using her fork to push the sludge around her plate, Thelma's nose upturned as though she were simply above such matters, appetite dwindling away. 

"I could lie, and say I'm a vegetarian," Thelma said, grabbing each side of her plate, about to walk back up to the dinner queue with newfound hope, eyes bright with hunger that swiftly returned. 

"All they'll do is take the visible sausage off of your plate," Shirley Watts sighed, sitting on the other side of Marilyn, pulling a napkin out of nowhere and placing it delicately upon her lap, brown hair curling up at her shoulders. "Trust me, I've tried."

Thelma took her seat once again, defeated, and all three girls grimaced as they delved into the food. If you could call it that. 
The food hall thundered with gossip passing from ear to ear, for nothing else was as riveting as finding out who's knickers had been left out to fester on a bench just outside the front of St Finbarrs, on show for the entirety of Hendon House (the boys boarding school just across the road). 

"I heard it was Trudy Collins," Thelma said in a hushed tone, for the girl was only sat a few chitterers away from them, sheepishly looking down as her friends shot her distasteful looks, her braids looking just as droopy as her. "She was out there with that Raymond boy from Hendon." 

"Honestly Thelma, why do you invest yourself in such nonsense?" Shirley huffed, and Marilyn simply smiled as they proceeded to bicker about whether the knickers were Thelma's business or not.  
Shirley had only been at the school since the beginning of September, her parents having moved her back to London for her education, the schools promoting safe bomb shelters accessible from all four sides of the grounds. There was one at the end of the road, a dead end of sorts, between the boarding schools. You were considered fortunate if you wound up in there with the boys from Hendon House, for it was a shared shelter, and the only time you could fraternise with a boy aside from the weekend. 
Morbid circumstances, indeed, but it gave them something to look forward to in times of potential imminent death. 

St Finbarrs was the better of the two schools. It was newer for a start, and had little to no asbestos growing in the ceiling of the science classrooms. The dormitories were within the same building as the school, so it was far more practical if you left a book in your room to fetch it for your next class last minute. The only downside was that there was no way to sneak out, especially with Matron stationed in the bedroom at the end of the corridor, with ears that would prick up at the sound of a single breath- Marilyn wanted to test the range of said supersonic hearing, but this wasn't practical, there was nowhere to hide, and none of the girls would offer her sanctuary in their bedrooms, hers being simply too far down the corridor to slip into in a second. 

"What else am I supposed to entertain myself with? Speculating about whether the earth is round or not?" Thelma huffed, folding her arms, blatantly irritated. However Shirley didn't reply, distracted in the chaos unfolding behind Thelma. 

There was a distant sound of yelling from the main road outside, intertwined with laughter and car horns blasting at random intervals. A group of girls had clustered around one of the windows, some stood up on the bench to see over their friends heads, whispering amongst themselves in a hushed excitement. 

"What's going on?" Thelma asked, unfolding her arms and looking behind her and out of the window that Shirley was squinting at. 

"The Headmaster of Hendon is running down the road!" Patricia Boyd said, having been on the frontline of the gathered admirers at the window, causing a wave of girls to hurry to the windows, mash helplessly abandoned on the tables yet some cutlery remaining in hands. 

"Why would the Headmaster be off school grounds at this hour?" Marilyn laughed, as her, Shirley, and Thelma stood at the window beside the gigglers, staring out at the scene unfolding before them. 

There were two boys- Hendon House pupils, presumably. They were running all over the main road, careful to dodge oncoming cars, stopping every now and then to wait for the Headmaster to reach his hands out to throttle them, only to quickly dodge out of the way and tantalisingly make snide remarks toward him. They weren't much older, nor younger than Marilyn. There was a skinny, tall brunette, decked out in full Hendon uniform, scarf and flat cap included, accompanied by a dark leather satchel, that thundered against his thigh as he ran. 

"Woah steady on Sir, we wouldn't want you hurting yourself!" He exclaimed, once stuck behind a lamppost, with the only choice but to go left or right. That's where the other boy came in; dirt blonde swept across his forehead, a subtly built figure accented by the navy, almost black blazer, shirt untucked and top button undone. The Headmaster was saying something to the boy behind the lamppost, chest heaving as he panted- if only his tongue were hanging out, it would equate his heaving far better for the audience of girls in the Mess Hall. 

The blonde walked up behind the Headmaster, and tapped him on the shoulder, causing him to whip around, face crimson, a finger resemblant of the bangers of St. Finbarrs bangers and mash wagging in the blonde's face. 

"You watch yourself Peter Pevensie, or I'll be writing home again!" 

Peter was trying not to burst out laughing, slowly stepping backwards, allowing the brunette to shove the Headmaster firmly in the back, making him topple forwards, and providing the boys with an escape. They sprinted down the road, just before the girls engaged in the episode, who watched on with humorous gasps and whispers, the Headmaster halfheartedly following the two, hand clutched to his chest as though his lungs were about to burst out screaming. 

"Susan..." a small girl, in perhaps her 2nd year, called, alerting her sister, who was sat on the bench buried in a book, unaware of what was happening. "Edmund and Peter are outside."

Marilyn watched Edmund and Peter, as the groups of girls began to disperse, a sense of curiosity overwhelming her as Edmund's hat flew off, causing him to have to run back a few metres to retrieve it, the Headmaster having given up and retreated back into his sanctuary in the school. Peter stopped to wait for his brother to catch up, reaching up and brushing a hand through his hair, turning towards St. Finbarrs. 

His eyes met hers. 

She swiftly turned around, turned away from the boy, turned away from the chaos, and back to her friends, who were now heatedly discussing what the brothers' futures would be. Expulsion? Detention? Canteen duty?