After a lifetime in solitude - or really just 17 short years in a Swiss boarding school - West had come to the same conclusion as Sartre: hell is other people. Not only were they demanding, loud and immature - that just to name a few - they also tended to dislike everything West enjoyed.
Nobody seemed to like violin music, nor good authors, foreign languages, art or good books. Fencing and chess were the only classes both West and the others seemed to collectively enjoy.
West didn't have to share a dorm - perks of being the granddaughter of the dean - the top floor of 'The Gargoyle's Tower' belonged to her. Given that it was the highest tower of the school, it wasn't all too roomy, but her grandfather made sure she had everything she needed - including peace. And so the other inhabitants of the tower were carefully hand-picked by him, to suit his granddaughters fancy. Never has there been a party since West moved in, eight years ago.
Throughout the years, the room had been decorated and redecorates, so that it now had a bed, carefully placed next to the wall on the left side of the large balcony's floor-to-ceiling glass doors, and a wooden desk at its feet, facing the wall. A white fur adorned the dark wood floor, and in the middle of the room there was an L-shaped leather couch, facing the fireplace.
On the right side of the balcony were thick velvet curtains, of a deep wine color and a door, which led to West's closet. Right-hand form the entry, a small passage, with a door on the left - the bathroom - led to the small kitchen that no other dorm had. West didn't use it often, as the boarding school offered three warm meals a day, but there were days when the heavy rain weighed more on her shoulders, days where she couldn't put up with childish behavior, and the only comfort was either reading by the fireplace or brushing the chords of her violin.
It all started on a rainy Wednesday, mid october. West was sitting at her desk in class, looking out of the window, from the fifth floor of the North Wing, where Mr. Dupont was blabbering about Art Nouveau. The internet was surrounded by a large forest and it was situated 20km away from the Alps, where they'd often go ski.
As she looked into the courtyard between the four Wings, her gaze fell upon a sleek black car that stopped in front of the entrance. The doors opened, revealing an unnaturally blonde person, and two other people, plus the driver who carried a large suitcase.
West's eyebrows shot up in surprise. A new student. The probability that the new student was her age and in her grade was low, as the school hosted everyone between 5th and 12th grade. That call of probability however, would turn out to be completely unreliable - as West would say - when only a couple of minutes later, the class would be interrupted by three knocks on the door, revealing her grandfather and... a girl. Standing near her grandfather, West could tell they were about the same height.
Her grandfather gently smiled at her, and she almost made the mistake of smiling back. She loved her grandfather, but he agreed with her when she said it was for the best if no one knew they were related - it would nag at her peace if people were constantly trying to befriend her for benefits from the dean.
Her blonde hair was resting on her shoulders and her attire consisted of a white oxford shirt, grey tweed pants, a knitted beige vest with their school's blazon on it and black Prada loafers. West almost gasped, as no one besides her actually wore the school's uniform or at least pieces of it.
Loud whispers flooded the classroom as she made her way to the only free spot - next to West.
"Está libre?" she asked her, the conversations becoming louder. West already felt a headache beginning.
"Séntate" she said, as the noise in the classroom reached a new high. The girl's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the response she got, but silently sat down.
"Quiet!" her grandfather said, upon seeing West burry her head in her hands, and much to her pleasure they instantly stopped chatting.
West didn't want to talk, really didn't want to get to know the girl who just sat down next to her, and no matter how bad she thought it would be, it never came. The girl sat down, and didn't say a word. Not then, not five minutes later and not when the class ended. She simply gathered her stuff and left. West had found it so weird, incredulous, impossible, she went straight to the dean's office for clarifications.
"Who is this girl?" West asked, letting herself fall into one of her grandfathers armchairs. "And why did she speak spanish?" His eyebrows shot up, as he offered West a mint.
"Urgent transfer. I found out about it one hour before they arrived" he told her.
"Aha. So a delinquent" West sighed, suddenly disappointed. Curiosity crossed his eyes upon seeing his granddaughter's expression.
"Qué pasó cariño?" he softly asked, leaning forward, resting his palms on the desk. A sigh left her lips before she replied.
"I'm stuck with that kid everywhere, in every class" she said, despair filling her eyes. "The seat next to me is the only empty one - everywhere!" she clarified, finishing the chocolate. His clear blue eyes filled with sympathy as he asked:
"Did she bother you a lot?"
West thought about it, and came to the conclusion that she was bothered over the fact that the girl didn't bother her at all. Her grandfather laughed out loud when she voiced her thoughts and she found herself laughing alongside him.
"Don't look for problems where there are none" he instructed her with a smile, as they took their farewells.
