The night clubs over here were amazing. Not that I had been to one in New Zealand but these were insane. They were at least ten times better than anything I had seen on television. Colored strobe lights flashed across the dance floor and music pumped from the speakers. The scent was that of a mixture of perfumes, alcohols and sweat. Everything was intoxicating before I had even started to drink. As shot after shot followed cocktail after cocktail I became more aware of those around me. Many of whom were young men all looking extremely visually appealing.
The dance floor was alive with pulsating bodies. Blood pumped through my veins drawing adrenalin along with it.
Wen I woke, cold concert pressed against my face. Solid metal bars rose above my head. Drearily removing myself from the concrete I recognized where I was, although I had never been here before. A police station. Looking around I began to panic wondering how I got here and where here was. A guard approached the door.
“Bonjour Nean, j'espère que vous vous sentez bien. Vous avez eu tout à fait la nuit dernière, n'avons-nous pas."
I shook my head unable to understand, “Parlez-vous anglais. Je suis de la Nouvelle Zélande.”
The guard shook his head at me before replying in terrible English with a thick french accent, “How were you able to speak french when you came in last night? I was saying, 'Hello Nean, how are you this morning, you had quite the night last night didn't you?'”
I groaned in response before pulling myself from the concrete flooring, “What am I doing here?”
“We unfortunately had to place you under arrest after you refused to to stop attempting to seduce Office Jordan. It was all very humorous but you were very drunk so we felt it best to bring you back here to keep an eye on you. I must say, you were one of the most willing prisoners we have had before. You even squealed with excitement when Office Jordan put the cuffs on you.”
Memories of the night before flashed through my mind and I cringed inwardly at the embarrassment.
“We will be happy to let you go once you have signed a few forms.”
I nodded my head and made my way toward the entrance of the cell as the officer unlocked the cage door.
“Thank-you, for bringing me in and keeping me safe. I wold hate to think what wold have happened to me else whys.”
“It is more than okay Nean. I must tell you. The gentleman calling on you outside has been quite persistent in trying to see you. He is a very nice Beau for you.”
“Gentleman caller?” I pulled my forehead together wondering who it could be, “You don't mean Scotty Do you?”
“I do believe so.”
“oh, no, no, no, He's not my caller. He's just a friend.”
The officer nodded his head in a knowledgeable fashion. “ Right, of course. Sorry for the mistake.”
“If you will simply sign here, here and there I will be able to release you and send you on your way. Do not worry, this will not go on your record as it is a first time offense.”
“Thank-you Officer.” I quickly ran the pen across the paper leaving a scribble of signatures, not bothering to read the papers. They were all if French anyway.
After a few more minutes where I collected my belongings and said goodbye to the officers I made my way to an impatiently waiting Scotty in the foyer. Now to get back to the hotel and sneak inside unnoticed before my mother realizes I was missing.
YOU ARE READING
Saint Peters Academy, My Fathers Private Boarding School for Boys.
Ficção AdolescenteI look back at how far I have come this year. Moving half way accross the world, Leaving my friends and my life back in New Zealand. I often wonder what would have happend if I hadnt run off that first night. Would I still be back there? Still with...
