The Exchange

Chapter 11

I walk across the school after my first day at London Prep, carrying my school bag on my shoulder and my new uniform, wrapped in plastic, in my hand. I think back to how my day began and realize it wasn't that bad.

I wasn't optimistic about starting school. I have never had to move or change schools before, other than moving form elementrary school to middle school and then middle school to high school, but I moved schools with people I have known since Kindergarten so it has never been that big a deal. I wasn't nervous until the Head Misstress opened the door to my French class and I saw all new faces sitting in perfectly straight desks, wearing the same outfit from top to bottom with exceptions. The whole class stopped to stare at me in the door way in my navy skirt and purple shirt and I felt so out of place. Not how I wanted to start it.

Absolutley no one looked friendly and all of them, there must of been twenty-five or so, stared me down. It seemed like they were all examining me. Not a good feeling.

My Canadian accent didn't help either. After the Head Misstress introduced me and the teacher assigned me a seat she began to ask me a few questions.

"What's your name?"

"Mirabelle."

"Woah she's American!" A few roudy boys in the back row called out laughing.

"I'm not American!" I shot back at them, turning my head to one boy in particular with blond hair, dimples and brown eyes. "I'm from Canada's capitol city. I bet you don't even know where that is off the top of your head." Okay, maybe not the best first impression I could have made but he came to talk to me after class so who knows?

Lunch was what I was not looking forward to at all. At home I could of sat with anyone and said, "Hi." but not here. I went to my assigned locker and took out the lunch I quickly put together this morning when a group of girls came up to me and introduced themselves.

"You humiliated Brandon in French class. Are you coming to eat with us?" The girls somewhat reminded me of my friends back home and I got along with them pretty well at lunch. They pointed out which guys were acceptable and who to stay away from and gave me full analysis on anyone I asked questions about. Kind of like what Marley and I would do.

Before long a few more people came up and asked to know more about me. I think they just wanted to hear my American accent but whatever. Seriously, who asks if Canadians live in igloos and ride dogsleds to school? We are not isolated from the rest of the world people.

Well, at least I met a few people that seem nice. Who knows how they really are though? In Wilfred Laurier we had a mural of Shakespeare that contained the words, 'God gave you one face, you can make yourself another.' If it's true back there, it can be true now.

I walk through the front door of Harry and Louis flat and remove my shoes at the front door. They are sitting in the kitchen talking about something. It sounds like finance.

I drop my school bag in front of the closed door to my bedroom along with my uniform, and walk to the kitchen.

"Hey!" Harry and Louis excited voices say at the same time, "So how'd it go?"

"Not too bad." I answer shrugging and glancing at the kitchen table where there is a pile of bills resting between them. I know it is time to ask about this.

"So how are we splitting these?" I ask taking a seat. Daddy said he would pay for my share of the bills since the school doesn't cover anything at all. Everything is up to us. I feel so bad making Daddy pay but I can't even be considered for a job until I'm at least fifteen. Child Labour Laws.

"Umm, I guess we could split most of them three ways." Louis replies, rubbing his neck and looking uncomfortable.

"Okay let's go through this." I say, trying to get this done.