Entering the gym to see thirteen other students already seated on the ground I realized Warren had successfully made me late for my first class, on my first day. I cursed finally before entering the boxing ring and taking a seat around the edge.
"Ah Nean, I was wondering when you were going to join us." His warm voice smothered my previous anger at Warren from my mind.
"Sorry I got a little held up, it wont happen again. Promise."
"Ah don't worry 'bout it." Any teacher superiority held in his voice three seconds ago washed away leaving me more relaxed than before. "I'm just a little disappointed you chose to miss out on home room with your favorite teach is all." He wiped away a fake tear from the corner of my eye and I couldn't help but laugh.
"I would never choose to stay away from you Ash."He shot me a concerned look.
"No, no nothing like that. It's fine really."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah 'course."
"I was just telling everyone To call me Ash unless there’s another teacher around. Then It's Mr. Blake."
"Got it, Ash."
I looked around the rest of my homeroom class. Both Luke and Jose were here with what appeared to be a friends each. All silently nudging each other at the obvious coolness that Ash radiated. Two students from each year sat around the ring. None of whom I recognized.
"Okay, I think we're supposed to do name and bonding exercises but I don’t really know any other than two truths and a lie. So we will go around in a circle and all have a chance to say your name, say two truths and one lie. Then the rest of us have to guess which was the lie.”
We all nodded understanding the simple instructions.
“I'll go first. My name is Ashton Blake. I was born in the U S of A, I teach at Saint Peters Academy and I hate Balloons. Okay now discus between the group what you think is the lie.”
Everyone started talking at once till a nearly unanimous decision was picked, almost everyone agreed on the hating Balloons, except for me.
“He was born in Italy, he moved to America when he was three. He hates balloons because he gets a fright and looks like a girl every time they pop.”
The others turned to look at Ash as he nodded his head in agreement.
“She's right. I always scream like a five year old girl when they pop.”
The class laughed as Ash shot me a gentle, knowing smile.
“You know me so well sometimes Nean.”
“Well you told me about Italy the other night, and I hate balloons as much as you.”
YOU ARE READING
Saint Peters Academy, My Fathers Private Boarding School for Boys.
Teen FictionI 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...
