Reichenbach Secondary (Teenlock)

Welcome To Reichenbach Secondary

John Watson’s POV

I am so nervous. I cannot even put into words the amount of trembling I am feeling in my left hand, the other kids must think I am a weirdo. Not only am I the new kid with the shaking hands I am also the new kid who has joined three weeks into the first term. Walking across this large, student infested playground with my large rucksack on my back I feel like the odd one out. This school is a posh school. Full of boys with their tweed and Westwood and expensive gadgets and then there is me. Little John Watson. My school uniform is second hand and sizes too big, my stationary and other equipment is only the cheap, basic stuff and my rucksack belonged to my father and reeks army. All the other new students have already settled in, found their friends and got used to maze like layout of Reichenbach Secondary.

Reichenbach…German I think? I wouldn’t know, I do Spanish not German. I wonder what it means, I will have to ask someone like a teacher or head boy or my roommate. I hope my roommate is friendly, ordinary and maybe into sport, and short. Yes definitely short. “Heads!” Someone shouts and I turn to see a football hurling its way towards me. I shrug off my bag and header the ball back to its owner. He looks older than me with darker hair, he maybe in his final year. I am in year eleven so have three years of school left until I am free. Still it is better than the alternative: living in the middle of nowhere with my grandparents and my sister Harriet while attending the local, tiny school. This is much better. No one ever understood me back home, people used to pity me. The boy without parents and my grandparents always preferred Harry. The boy who kicked the ball jogs up to me with a huge grin on his face which screams ego. “Hi. Gregory Lestrade.” The boy greets with his hand held out. “Call me Greg.” I nod. Greg, need to remember his name.

“John Watson.” I reply and copy the action so we shake hands. “I am new here…” I shamefully say.

“Oh you must be the new year eleven! Yes? I am captain of the football team and we could really do with your skills.” He praises causing me to blush. No one ever praises me. Yes I have always had a knack for football but I didn’t think I was that good. “Obviously you are a little young.” Young is a better word for little in my experience. Damn my hobbit like stature! “Oh to hell with it!” Greg suddenly exclaims. “Do you want a place on the team?”

“Erm…sure?” I question. Why would anyone want me? I am so boring. “If there is room of course.” Greg smirks.

“Anderson!” He yells across the playground and soon a very ugly looking kid approaches. “You’re off the team.” Oh no, this is not going to end well.

“What?!” The kid called Anderson replies in disgust.

“Off. The. Team.” Greg spits which follows by Anderson rolling his eyes and stomping off. “So welcome to Reichenbach Secondary.”