So I'm an atheist, poor and I'm in a catholic boarding school. Right..

Chapter 1

‘Get up.’

‘No.’

‘Get up!’

‘No!’

‘Fia! I said get up!’

‘And I said no!’

Silence…

Stomp stomp stomp. BANG. Thump thump thump. Trickle trickle. Oh no. Oh no no no she wouldn-SPLASH!

‘WHAT THE F-’

‘10 minutes Fia! And watch your bloody language!’

‘But you just-’

‘10 MINUTES!’

And with that Mrs Hitler left the room. Talk about hormonal… ‘Urgh’, I groaned, peering down at the sodden pyjama top that was clinging to my now frozen stomach. I don’t think I can even remember the last time I had a fuss-free morning in this household. Still grumbling incoherently to myself, I fell out of bed and practically crawled to my bedroom door, the carpet on the landing burning my bare knees as my arms dragged the rest of my body to the bathroom.

‘Ah, Just the view I wanted to see first thing in the morning,’ an irritable voice yawned at me from behind. I swivelled my heavy head to glare at Del who looked like he’d just cycled backwards through a holly bush whilst having rocks pelted at him with a tennis racket. His bed hair was appalling – tufts of dark curls managing to both stick up and glue themselves to his forehead. Patchy stubble adorned his square jaw and a blue t-shirt that had last been washed god knows how long ago was half tucked into his brown boxers.

‘I could say the same thing’ I retorted, standing up and adjusting the waistline of my pyjama bottoms that were riding dangerously low. Before he could open his mouth and grace me with his morning odour (it was actually inhumane) I turned on my heel and slammed the bathroom door in his face.

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‘Is your bag ready?’ 

‘Believe it or not mum, yes, just like every other day for the past five years, my school bag is packed,’ I said, jabbing my fork agitatedly at the bacon on my plate.

‘Less of the lip, thank you and there’s no need to take your anger out on your food, you know that plate was originally from your great, great…’ I zoned out as I usually do when mum goes off on a tangent about family heirlooms. Looking up I saw Del smirking at me from across the table. Checking mum was still babbling on about God knows what I gave him the finger.

‘FIA! WHAT HAVE I SAID ABOUT DOING THAT AT THE TABLE?’ Mum barked, making me almost topple over in my seat in shock. Del was unsuccessfully trying to muffle his chuckles before she rounded on him. ‘You too young man, you’re supposed to be the one your sister looks up to, not the one encouraging her!’

‘Sorry mum,’ we both mumbled. Breakfast remained silent after that and pretty soon I found myself at the front door, repeating a scene that had been played out many times over the past few years. Mum was welling up, Del was visibly itching to get behind the wheel and I was being lectured on how to act at a new school. After an eternity of mum rambling on about correct classroom etiquette I snapped. ‘Christ mother I’m 16 I think I know how to handle myself in a new environment,’ I bit out, rolling my eyes.

‘Yes yes of course you do. You’re just growing up so fas-‘

‘Right I’m off,’ I said, shooing my brother out the door.

‘Bye mum,’ he shouted over his shoulder. We made our way to the tiny blue Golf my dad had given Del on his 18th birthday. I swear, I don’t know which member of my family was more of an embarrassment to me. We were buckled in, Del just about to turn on the ignition when I spotted mum opening the door again.

‘Oh God, drive drive drive!’ I said, frantically rolling up the car window. Obligingly my brother took off, leaving a teary mum waving manically in the background, a tissue visible in her hand.

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‘So…’ Del started, in an attempt to break the tense silence hanging in the car. ‘Excited about the new school?’

‘Seriously Del, don’t even,’ I muttered, my finger drawing swirls in the condensation on the window.

Del chuckled and indicated right before turning into a huge parking lot. Instinctively I sunk down in my seat, my eyes raking over the hundreds of students sauntering around their cars outside. I groaned internally. Another new school in yet another new city. I should’ve been used to it by then, the whole first day of school thing but nope. Every time I had the same tsunami feeling in my stomach, the same palms drenched in sweat. And most of all, I had the same feeling of reluctance to get out of the car. God, I’d even stay in an enclosed space with my brother the caveman rather than go out there.

‘Jeez, Fia, it’ll be fine – it always is. You’ll meet new people, join new clubs, crush on new boys...ow!’ He yelped, after I pinched his thigh. I gave him an icy cold glare before throwing the car door open and stepping out. I heard Del laugh one more time before he beeped the horn, gave me a mock salute and drove off. Little bugger. Turning round I took in my surroundings. I was standing in front of an ancient looking building. Actually, it was more of a mansion – 3 stories of peeling white windows and crumbling red brick. The pipes running up the walls were looking dangerously rusted – like at any minute one would just burst, showering us all with mould contaminated water. Don’t get me wrong, the school was essentially beautiful, with picturesque grounds consisting of quaint little ponds and fountains scattered here and there in bright colourful patios and luscious green fields, surrounded by shrubbery of every green possible. But what was the most fascinating wasn’t the fairytale-like scenery, but the atmosphere. One quick glance showed me huddles of pupils, mainly female, practically skipping to lessons, chattering animatedly to both each other and any teacher that happened to pass by and give them a smile. Basically, it was perfect – something which I really didn’t want need, or know how to deal with right now. Every other school I had studied at was the typical co-educational dog pound; paper balls being thrown across the classroom, phones ringing constantly, the occasional spit ball hitting the teachers head. Yes, I know the most clichéd image possible but each of those schools was probably the best in its neighbourhood. And I had gotten plenty of decent friends out of them, granted I accumulated a number of decent enemies too. This school though – I now see why same-sex catholic schools always seem to have the highest rates in good behaviour. Mind you, they usually tend to have the highest pregnancy rates too but hey, who’s judging? Just as I was imagining a herd of pregnant nuns running through the school gates, someone cleared their throat behind me. I spun round and saw Mrs Keeley, the headmistress. My parents and I had met her last week when she’d come round to personally give me all the papers I needed for when I started today.

‘Miss Whilcott, welcome,’ she greeted with a warm smile. ‘I trust you need some help with your luggage?'

‘My luggage?’

‘Yes, your luggage. Clothes, toiletries, books, stationary, cassettes- oh, excuse me I mean CDs,’ she said, winking at the last word. I stared at her. What on earth was she on about? I was going to school not a holiday camp. I shifted on my feet and laughed uneasily.

‘Er…I’m afraid I’m a bit confused as to why I would need luggage, ma’am?’ I faltered on the last word, wondering how the headmistress would be addressed at a school like this. Ma’am? Miss? Babe? I grinned at the thought of her with a snout and trotters.

‘Well, unless you plan on staying in the same clothes until Christmas – which I very much advise against, it didn’t seem as wild as I thought it would be – then I suggest you have some necessities dear,’ she chuckled, patting away an imaginary greying fly-away from her immaculate bun. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion and I was just about to reply when something behind her caught my eye. ‘ST. WINIFRED’S ROMAN CATHOLIC BOARDING SCHOOL FOR GIRLS AGED 11-18’ the sign read.

Oh. Shit.