Strawberry Panic: My New School

Chapter 1

I opened my eyes slowly, adjusting to the light. It was a crisp winter morning and I could hear the birds singing beautifully.

My phone buzzed on my bedside table. It was my best friend (f/n). I lazily picked up my phone and read the messages.
8:30: hey where r u? im skipping today, meet me at the park
8:45: are you awake? rise and shine senpai ;)
9:10: school started like 10 mins ago so i guess your going

Shit. School. I glanced at the alarm clock. School started half an hour ago. I suppose I could have skipped school, but I had a test that day, and I planned to do my best.

I leapt out of bed, opened my curtains wide, ran to the bathroom, got ready as fast as humanly possible and ran out the door.

I had no choice but to walk, since my brother had been in bed for at least a week, and was refusing to get up.

I wish I could change the past, I really do. I've got into trouble in the past, so much so that my parents kicked me out to live with my 23 year old brother. But I ditched the bad crowds and I'm attempting to turn my life around. But as far as most adults are concerned I'll always be a "bad kid" who can't be bothered.

I arrived at school at around half past ten. My school looked quite miserable, with peeling grey paint everywhere as if even the paint can't be bothered. I casually crossed the courtyard, smiling at some old friends sitting in a huddle on the steps, and walked into the maths block. I knocked on my classroom door.

Instead of being told to come in, my teacher Ms Fitch opened the door. Never a good sign.

"Sorry I'm late," I said politely.
"Save your apologies for the head mistress, (y/n), I've been told to escort you there immediately."

I didn't bother resisting or even asking why. With my track record, even a late mark could have a devastating effect. I was used to facing the consequences of my past actions.

Ms Fitch waited for me to take a seat in the head mistress's office and left quickly, most likely to ensure her class weren't throwing rocks out of the window.

The office was the only well-decorated room in the school, and, in year 11, I had had plenty of occasions to appreciate it. The walls were deep red, the furniture was dark wood and dark leather and everything was emaculate.

Eventually, Miss Meredith, the head mistress, emerged in a cloud of perfume from the hallway. She was wearing her trademark frown. I didn't even get a smile.

She sat on her leather desk chair and looked at her computer.

"(Y/n) (l/n), year 11. Such a long record of misbehaviour I don't think we have time to read them all... backchatting, missing school, destruction of school property, smoking, among others... quite the troublemaker, aren't we?"

I remained silent.

"Lateness. That will be one strike. Now, you have 299 strikes to your name, and this will be your 300th. Tell me, do your friends tell you what 300 strikes equal?"

I nodded.

"Miss (l/n), you are officially expelled from this school. Take your belongings and leave."