The Thorn

6-To the King of our glorious country.

I'm not sure at what point the King is sending his carriage today, and so I've got my school stuff for all day. Trust the king of the country to be vague. Urgh! I hope he comes early. Today's a terrible day for lessons. I'm not looking forward to it.

First is History. Oh hallelujah! History's on the 2nd floor of the Humanities block. To top it off, H1 is the most dull classroom of all dull classrooms. The walls are a shade I like to call 'Desperation Grey' and the carpet is 'Old Lady Beige'. The whole room just screams... No, sorry, mutters reproachfully in an old ladylike fashion "dull". There. That's better.

When I arrive (after eliminating every last trace of make up from my face apart from the tar like mascara because it. Won't. Come. Off!) I make my way towards my usual seat in the back right corner of the room. My seat. It even has my name all over the bottom in various sharpie markers, biros and the odd fountain pen. Stationary is just amazing, and so I like to keep a varied collection. I get bored ok!!

The room slowly fills over the next 5 minutes before the bell goes. Our history teacher, Ms Siddalls, is 10 minutes late (as always) and when she enters the whole class is in uproar about nothing. Apparently Lucia Bloomer stole something from Felix Wicks. Not sure what. Probably either a pen or his dignity. It's nothing to do with me. Nope, I'm just drawing here in my corner, happily undisturbed. I'm quite happy with this sketch, for a ten minute doodle anyway. It's Sylvia with stars coming off her fingers and off the edge of the page in a cascading waterfall of gold, violet and aubergine gel pen. It's drawn in the corner of my History book, but Ms Siddall won't mind. I don't think she even checks out books at all. I could probably do maths in here and she wouldn't give a damn.

"Ok class. Today we're continuing our project from last week on the previous conflict of the Seven Kingdoms. Same spaces and groups as last week, thank you!" Ms Siddall rambles in her old lady voice. Well, that's her done then. Any excuse to not do anything. Then again, it'd be my strategy if I were a teacher. I'd be a terrible teacher. Can you imagine what those students would be like... No. Back to reality, please, CeCe. You're rambling again. She then collapses into her oh so lovely beige chair and begins tapping away at the keyboard of her ancient, boxy computer. It's like a frickin' cube! A cube for Pete's sake!

Lavender and Gary come over to sit at my table. They're the other two in my group. Gary's a 15 year old Smoke with spot issues. His hair is black with grey streaks and shaved at the sides of his head so it can be jelled up in a funky quiff of mad curls on top. He's taller than everyone else in this class at 6ft 2 and has monkey like arms. It's intimidating, man. His eyes are misty, mesmerising grey (his point of 'beauty').

Lavender is a pretty girl who is descended from a Shailan immigrant. That'll not be in her favour of the war is actually a big thing. She's roughly 13/14. Her eyes are almond shaped and hazel. Her hair is long and reaches to her knees. It is shiney, black and smooth. So basically like mine, but not wavy... or red. It contrast against her pale skin, making her look almost vampiric. She's short and slight with a birdlike figure. She's a Flora. It suits her. She's wearing a flowery blouse tucked into white shorts and golden strap sandals. She's just irritatingly pretty. Grrrrr. Not that I'm not pretty. You know what, let's not go there.

We all get out our books and timelines etc. and lay them out on the desk. Gary has his map of the Kingdoms out and he smooths it down. Each country has notes scribbled in his untidy scrawl covering them so that it's all one huge mess.

"Ok," Lavender begins," so, we've covered Idan last lesson, right?" We nod. "So, should we do Zuman next?"

"Sure," Gary and I agree. "I don't really care," I add. And so we set to work, going through all our knowledge of the combat between Zuman and Juna (which, to be honest, is minimal).