The Great Biscuit Hiest

Biscuit Boy

Alfie Garret chewed thoughtfully on his breakfast as his limousine pulled up to a large, brick building. It had been a long drive, almost an hour, but they were here. Thomas, his chauffeur, turned, and gestured a gloved hand to the car door.

"Go on, Mr.Alfie, it's not much different from your private school back in Yorkshire." He said, glancing at the school with a bit of distaste.

Alfie smiled. Thomas had been his chauffeur for as long as he could remember, and knew that the man cared for him deeply. Alfie took anther bite of his biscuit, sipped at his tea, and bid Thomas farewell. He exited the limousine, and shouldering his bag, made his way to the main office. It was a carpeted, square room, a bit dull for Alfie's taste, and smelled of peppermint.

"Good day, Miss, would you mind giving me some assistance?" Alfie greeted the secretary, and she looked up through steel rimmed glasses.

"Hmm. You must be that rich boy from the U.K...Alfie Garret?" She mumbled, without looking up. Alfie's gaze went from the stale peppermint candies on the counter to the secretary's wrinkled face.

"Hmm..sounds like me..although you do make this Alfie fellow sound like a bit of a wealthy prick." Alfie's tone was firm yet calm, and he crossed his arms.

"Maybe this Alfie fellow should adjust his attitude, as the principal's office Is four feet from where he's standing." The secretary shot back, handing Alfie his schedule and popping a peppermint into her mouth.

Alfie turned on his heel, muttering, "Wanker," under his breath as he studied his schedule. History. He navigated the busy halls, all eyes on him. It was a bit unnerving, but finally Alfie had gotten to his class. He slid into a desk, adjusting the collar of his preppy, dark blue blazer. An African American woman hurried into the room, and several students shuffled in just as the bell rang. The woman sighed.

"You're late, Shawn." She addressed a tall boy slumping next to Alfie, and her mouth opened to say more, when her gaze met Alfie's. "Have I seen you before?" She quarried, tapping her glasses.

"Er-No. I'm new." He said as coolly as possible, as every pair of eyes were on him. "Alfie Garret?" The woman sounded hopeful, and she looked Alfie up and down, making him slightly uncomfortable. "Mm-hm." Alfie nodded.

"Come on up! Introduce yourself! I'm Ms.Drew!" She smiled, and Alfie stood.
"I'm Alfie Garret. I just moved here from the U.K. My dad is the founder of Garret's Biscuits, the number one biscuit brand in the U.K, and we moved here so he could expand his buisness."

Alfie felt his ears burning as he took his seat, and the sweat on his collar slid down his neck. Ms.Drew nodded and with a warm smile began teaching. She spoke of things Alfie wasn't quite familiar with, and he found himself rather displeased. He was a straight-A student back in Yorkshire! He sat up, determined to make sense of the lesson Ms.Drew was reading from an old textbook.

A girl by the name of Gwen sat directly behind him, studying the back of the New boy's head. His chestnut hair was felled into a cowlick, and his blazer was intricately stitched and fitted. She decided he must be a sort of over-confident playboy, and satisfied, tuned in to Ms.Drew's words.

The bell sounded, and Gwen gathered her books, following New boy out the door. What kind of a name is Alfie? She wondered, making her way to her locker. But, as she traded her history books out for her math, Gwen decided she rather liked the name. She shut her locker, and was surprised to see New boy had the locker next to hers. He was fumbling with his lock, and his green eyes were bright with determination. She watched for a while, then hurried to math class.

Alfie took a deep breath, and tried the combination to his lock once more. He sighed with relief as it opened, and glared at his schedule before grabbing his math textbooks and hurrying off. This is going rather well. He thought to himself, but even he could sense the sarcasm behind his own reassurance. A feeling of self consciousness began to set in as Alfie passed students, most dressed in a baggy hoodie or T-Shirt, ripped jeans and tank tops. Was he overdressed?

Alfie barely made it to math on time, and it was the same with English. It seemed as though school was harder in Massachusetts than it was in the U.K., in Yorkshire. But what he dreaded most of all was lunch! Who was he to sit with? Alfie gripped the lunch sack Thomas had handed him that morning, his knuckles turning white, and briskly seated himself at an empty table.

"Alfie Garret." Gwen Collins repeated, and her best friend Aspen stared in the direction Gwen was pointing. "He's the new kid?" She asked, grabbing a lunch tray. Gwen nodded, taking a pudding cup from the fat lunch lady that so often gave her dirty looks. Aspen furrowed her eyebrows, and followed Gwen to an empty table.

"He looks rather lonely.." She said, and Gwen spooned chocolate pudding into her mouth. "I suppose," She said, turning towards Aspen. "But I reckon he's just another playboy, another dirtbag." Aspen shrugged, and ate her lunch. Gwen set her pudding aside, and watched New boy eat his lunch slowly, his head down. He fished a biscuit from his paper bag, and bit into it. "Biscuit Boy." Gwen murmured, content with the new name. "Not Alfie."