Saint Peters Academy, My Fathers Private Boarding School for Boys.

Saint Peters Academy. 09.

I went to the pool. Working out was always a release for me and the beautiful pool overlooking the rose gardens out the back proved to be to much temptation for me to resist. I swam as fast and hard as I could for as long as I could. Length after length. I thought about all that my father had told me. How could he think I could be happy about this?

"Janine?"

I looked up from pool ledge I was resting against, while trying to catch my breath. Glancing at the clock I realized I had been swimming for an hour and a half.

"Mr. Blake, Hi."

"I'm guessing your father forgot to mention this was an all boys school?" I nodded in reply, cringing inwardly at the thought of the next year I was to spend in my own little hell.

"He thought I would be excited. Like it was a surprise. I dunno, Sometimes I wonder if he really pays any attention to me at all."

He gave a gentle chuckle which helped to enrage that small amount of anger I had worked off.

"Come on.” His hand reached down to help me out of the pool, “Swimming's not the right type of sport for this mood. Have you ever tried kick boxing?"

"Kick boxing? Isn't that like all violent and stuff?" I let him pull me from the pool, trying not to drip water on him before I grabbed my towel.

"Sorta, but if you're attending an all boys school it may also become helpful." I raised my eyebrow in question.

"Uh, Is my teacher telling me to use violence against my fellow students?"

"No, of course not. I'm just saying it may be a smart idea to learn some form of self defense in case some snobby rich idiot decides to take advantage of the fact that he's rich and you're a girl." Once again he gave a soft gentle chuckle before adding, "But if anyone is to ask I didn't teach you a thing."

My teacher was teaching me to beat up other students. Cool. He may just prove to be all so bad after all.

The training session was long and hard, but I enjoyed it all the same. He taught me basic defensive moves and a few strategic attack moves to. It was actually rather fun. Sitting down on the edge of the boxing ring, holding ourselves up by the rope, I swung my legs with to the best of the music flowing from the speakers attached above my head. I felt the rope pull behind me as Mr. Blake joined me with large drinks for both of us.

"So Nean, What year are you?"

"13 in New Zealand. My Final year. I think that's a senior over here, or something?"

"Ah so that makes you 18 going on 19?"

"17 going on 18, Next year actually. I got put up a year as well."

"Ah so were an intelligent one are we?"

"Not really. I mean I'm not dead dumb or anything. I was put into the accelerated learning classes when I was younger and stuff. I'm mainly to lazy to actually use effort."

" Well you know you're not really supposed to say that to your teacher right?"

I took a big sip of my drink. Mr. Blake was so young. Sometimes it was hard to think of him as a teacher.

"Yeah. So are you going to be my teacher?"

"Well did you do one of the phys ed classes?"

"Both. Out Door Ed and Practical Sport."

"Well Then yes. I'm The only Phys Ed teacher for Years 12 and 13."

"Cool. Hey what is this drink. It's really good."

The taste that swam in my mouth was entirely intoxicating.

"It's a Mojito."

I spat the liquid resting in my mouth out, spraying it over Mr. Blake and the boxing ring.

"What?" My eyes bulged from my face. He was giving a student alcohol?

"Don't worry. It's virgin. God you really think I would give a student alcohol?"

"Sorry. I just. You said. Yeah." I stumbled over my words, still recovering from the shock.

"Don't worry. I think I would have probably freaked out if my teacher told me they gave me an alcoholic drink too. But at the end of the year I am taking all my year 13 students on a pub crawl through Paris."

"Are you serious?"

"Hell yeah. It has to be the day after school ends so I don't get in trouble. But other than that. Any student of mine who wants to come is welcome. I'll even put a tab on the bar at first."

"I went on a pub crawl the night before I came here. Ugh I was so trashed. I ended up getting put in the cop shop over night. Luckily I managed to get out and back to the hotel in time for me to catch the plane here. Mum didn't find out either which was a god sent."

He laughed again. What was it with his laugh. It was like alcohol to me. Entirely intoxicating yet totally illegal. Except in Paris.