Historical High School

Part I

Ah, High School. A place where every student enjoys meeting up with their friends, having a new time table, getting more freedom with their work. Well, for a set amount of time? Like, the first few weeks of the first year? And then it feels like you don't want to live anymore? Precisely.

Richard III felt like that exactly. Despite being one of the nicest people at the school, always helping others and doing his homework on time, he was constantly picked on and teased. Whether it was because he wasn't the fittest person ever, or the prettiest, or just because he was one of the newest students, joining halfway through Year Eight. It was almost the end of the year now, but people never seemed to let him settle.

Especially a student named Henry. Henry VII, to be exact. He never seemed to like him, no matter what he did. Richard just wanted to make friends, even though he didn't know what he did wrong - probably nothing. Henry didn't seem to like many people, apart from a few. He was good friends with Cleopatra and Marie Antoinette, who were both in Richard's year too.

Swinging his bag down onto the floor, Richard sat down next to Catherine Parr, who greeted him with a smile. Art class. The only class Richard really liked. He found it relaxing, and his best friend, Catherine was always there to guide him through, and to rant too - Richard thought she was a great listener - and Catherine never seemed to mind. And best of all, Henry wasn't in it either. But, on a downside, Marie and Cleopatra were.

"Did you have a good weekend? Did you get up to anything?" Catherine smiled, knocking Richard from his downcast thoughts. He nodded quickly, and followed up with;

"Nothing much though.."

Truth was, he hasn't really done anything. He had just stayed at home, afraid of coming to school, afraid of Henry, of Marie, of Cleo..

"Just..abit of baking.." Richard lied, laughing slightly. More with nerves than anything..

"Oh? I didn't know you could cook, Rich!" Catherine let out a small laugh aswell, and covered her mouth with a dainty, pale hand.

"Huh. Yeah. Well, I can," Richard replied, turning to look at his art book, and pick up a paintbrush. Charles Le Brun, his art teacher, had given them instructions on a peice of paper, and Catherine sighed. It wasn't her type of art, watercolour. She always found her paint was either too watery or too thick, or never the right brightness.

However, Richard excelled. He could happily sit for hours painting, and he loved the amount of resources and abstracticality he could put into his art. He'd been awarded many certificates in the time he'd been at the school already. Catherine had smiled, congratulated him, proud, like a sister. To be honest, that's what Richard did see Catherine as. A tight at the hip best friend.

Richard smiled slightly, and began to paint in a light, vibrant green, his favourite colour. The task was to create a peice of artwork which reflected them, and so Richard went, painting a field in one corner for his to-be painted horses, to show his love of riding.

Catherine was stuck, however. Her hand hovered above the page, with the paint brush. A small sigh escaped her mouth, and she looked around, for inspiration, hopefully. But instead, she caught someone's eyes. Eyes of someone she really hated.

Marie Antoinette's. Covered in thick eyeliner and lashes coated in mascara, her sea blue eyes bore into her. Shying away, Catherine could hear her quirky-sounding, loud, piercing laugh, and the loud booting sound of Cleopatra kicking her in the shin with her big, black punk boots, and Marie swearing involuntarily under her breath.

"You alright?" Richard asked worriedly, noticing Catherine's sudden hesitance. She nodded quickly, starting to paint to dry and distract herself, even though her hands shook and her eyes were bleary. Who could know what Marie and Cleopatra were saying about her now?

"Just fine," Catherine muttered, tears threatening to fall onto her paper as she worked.

An hour or so later, give or take, Richard and Catherine went their separate ways. Catherine, to English class, and Richard, to Geography. All he had to do was get there before Henry, and desperately hope that another one of his friends, Charles (the second) was there. But knowing him, he would be late. He always liked to make an entrance.

Rushing forward, feeling Cleopatra's and Marie's presences, Richard climbed the last flight of stairs, and was not ready for the sight that awaited him.

There Charles was, but so was Henry. Charles was disgruntled, lying on the ground, whilst Henry and his peers jeered and mocked him. Richard was pushed to the side as Cleopatra shoved him away to get a better look. Marie followed, a smirk on her dumb face.

"Aw, look. Ze merry monarch isn't so merry now!" Louis XVI of France gave out a chuckle, and a laugh erupted from the majority of the crowd. Charles sat up - his hair a mess, his makeup smudged. He was obviously upset; a rare sight.

"You're right, Louis. I'm not happy right now. But it's not because of you, so stop acting like you're the big guy," Charles shrugged. Shrugged off his problems. It was still obvious he'd been crying though, he was such a hold-things-in guy, it was unreal. Charles dusted himself off and stood up. "Henry is to thank for my demise of happiness, for your information." Gesturing, the 'merry monarch' raised an eyebrow. "But as if I'm going to let that small blip of a human being ruin my demeanour."

Henry spared a hasty glare at Charles, full of venom. Charles just laughed, and Louis shyed away. It was like what just happened, he'd forgotten and forgiven already. Richard admired him for that - such an optimistic soul, he wished he could be like that. Charles looked over to him, smiling.

"Good morning, Rich. I see you saw me caught up with that no good Henry!" Charles laughed, a low, unique sound. Richard nodded, just as the door for Geography class was opened by an overly excited Mr. Farissol. Henry, Cleopatra and Marie walked in first, Cleopatra smirking under her breath. Charles followed, humming happily, and Richard walked in too. A few Vikings and Romans followed in, and last but not least, Mark Anthony made his way in too.

Mark was a rather shy boy, not really friends with anyone, but not really enemies with them either. Everyone seemed to not mind him at all, perhaps because he never got in the way of anybody, or perhaps because he rarely ever talked or caused problems. He sat inbetween Henry and Cleopatra like usual, and was greeted with a friendly shake of the shoulder from Henry, and a polite "kaliméra" (good morning) from Cleopatra. Mark smiled.

Richard watched their actions fervently. He was confused as to why Mark got along so well with the two, when him and Mark were rather similar anyway. It was so unfair! Two more Vikings sat at Richard's table, and Charles greeted them with an ecstatic smile.

"Today," Mr. Farissol spoke over the murmers of the Year Eights, "we will be learning about continents. They're the huge, seven land masses around the globe. Can anyone name any?"

"Ooh, ooh!" Charles raised his hand excitedly, with a nasty chuckle from Henry beneath his cries, "Europe!"

"Precisely. Thank you, Charles," Mr. Farissol quickly jotted the continent's name on the board, with a squeaky, black marker. Charles nodded in acknowledgement, smiling still.

A few answers later, Mark finally plucked up the courage to speak. Raising his shaking hand, Cleopatra smiled at him encouragingly.

"Yes, Mr. Anthony?" Mr. Farissol spoke, setting his eyes on the nervous boy.

He cleared his throat slightly, and quietly stated, "Asia." With a nod from Mr. Farissol, Mark sighed in relief. Richard frowned. He knew all of the continents off by heart - like everyone should by now anyway - but somehow Mark had gained more confidence than him in a short time to say something. Unfair.

Richard looked across to Charles, who was smiling, obviously happy for Mark. Charles and Mark were alright acquaintances, but if Richard was completely, really honest, Mark's face constantly looked rather irritated when Charles was around. He was much louder and outgoing than him, that was for sure. Richard sighed, and soon enough, their work was set, and off they worked for the next hour, his mind awake with questions and thoughts.

(End of Part I)