Tag Archives: prep school

Generation 2 – Chapter 2

Was in at a school or a concentration camp? It was miles and miles of walls before the limo dropped me off outside these like, huge gates and a like, 106 year old man let me onto this long driveway. The school at the end was definitely not a concentration camp, but didn’t look like much of a school either. More like Louis XI’s country retreat.

I was actually quite impressed with it, though of course I’d never voice it, I’d tell mom and dad it was the fugliest place going. I knew the way I was at home was not quite what my parents had hoped for, and for a second thoughts of me winning honours from my school, graduating as the class valedictorian, and being one of those girls who buys their teachers presents when they leave flashed across my mind. But like I said, it was just for a second. I deserved a good life, full of parties, friends, men, money, clothes and fun! Maybe I should just turn away from this school and run away, I could probably get an advance on my trust-fund…

The entrance was a little more old money penthouse than prep school, but this school didn’t seem to fit any of the stereotypes of boarding school… at least not yet. Hopefully all the girls inside would be pretty, skinny, and perky with manicures, Paris coture for their uniform and perfectly styled hair. But I was barely hopeful, they were probably going to be total trolls. The first taste of the school did not impress. The woman who was their to greet me was actually quite pretty, but the drab bun (which can, when done right, look extremely chic) and the harsh expression just made me dread meeting her.

As she came closer I critiqued. She could definitely do with a nose job, how would she get a boyfriend with that beast? She was wearing quite a bit of eye make up for a teacher though… maybe she wasn’t as bad as I thought.

Oh. The dress! Who was this woman? She was in a freaking pilgrim dress, hunny this is 2011 not 1620. Had she just sailed here on The Mayflower? Please. 

“Welcome to Howland, Arielle Belgravia. It is a pleasure to finally meet you.” Um, was this the débutante ball or something? What was with the formality? I hated her already.

“Yeah, it’s real sweet to meet you.” I threw her a weak smile.

“Well I am Miss. Brewster, the acting head mistresses of this fine school. Would you like the full tour?”

She turned around, clearly not waiting for an answer. I’d have been totally happy with a tour of the school but like, not now that this assuming bitch thought she could control me.

“Oh- Miss B. I’m actually like, totally tired from the really long journey and I’m just gonna crash out.” She seemed a little like, well, shocked at what I said. Good. Maybe it would slap some expression onto her face. Either this woman had been overdoing the botox or she was the most miserable person going, I thought the latter.

“Oh. I see. Are you completely sure?” Her eyebrows raised just a fraction of an inch as she asked me. I was not backing down. If this woman was looking for a subordinate she had another thing coming.

“Ohh totally Miss. I feel like I might just pass out right here, and I wouldn’t want to risk snagging your beautiful dress.”

“Now we have a few rules here which you don’t exactly adhere to in your current state,” She lifted her eyebrows as she looked over my tiny shorts hat showed off my amazing legs and my make-up which totally accentuated my beauty, ” but I’m sure your dorm-mates will fill you in on all of that. Your room is West Wing, top floor, I simply must go now.” Before I knew it she was off down the hallway. Who did she think she was? I’d probably get lost in an instant, oh well, maybe I’d explore the place on my own.

The hallways were nothing like the amazing façade of the building. OK, I suppose they were quite rich with the deep oak panelling, but it was so dark. I might as well have been in a 95 year old perverted lawyers office, there were probably two way mirrors that weirdo Miss. Brewster would spy on me through. After like, 15 years of roaming hallways I saw a toilet, might as well take a break and check I’m looking my best to meet these ‘dorm-mates’. Ew.

The toilet was totally harsh with awful florescent lighting and dirty white tiles covering every wall and floor, this was supposed to be an elite private school, not McDonald’s. I looked like 40 times worse than normal in this lighting, but of course I still looked beautiful.

I totally thought the place was empty, and then what do you now, some total creeper comes out of the stall directly behind me, ew, who was this tramp?

She came over and started talking to me, God knows why. But I did need some friends here, or at least some minions. I put on my biggest smile and started talking. After a while we got onto the subject of Miss Brewster.

“Don’t you think she’s like, a total tramp?” I asked the girl, who was starting to get overexcited, probably because I was talking to someone like her. She leaned close and whispered in my ear as if she was about to reveal some detrimental information about the tramp teacher…

“I don’t like her very much either!!”

OK. I was officially talking to the biggest dork ever. More inane conversation followed, and I learned she was in my dorm. Score! (not!).

“Come on, I’ll take you up there!” She squealed excitedly.

“Lets do it!!” I screamed back, both of us leaning over and laughing (fake on my part). God, this was the worst conversation of my life, I felt like I was in hell. If Lucifer himself walked past right now I wouldn’t have been surprised.

After a whole lot of twisting hallways full of black and white pictures of head girls from the bygone days and butch lesbians holding up lacrosse sticks with the butchest one of all holding the trophy in the middle we came to the last passage of the third floor, which led to ours of the fourth.

Oh. My. God. Now I literally was in hell. Why was our door straight from Dracula’s Castle and had a steel caged peep hole? Some nonce teachers would definitely be spying on us. I was totally going to either cover it up, or sue.

The place was my nightmare. 3 bunks in a drab old wooden room with a window also straight out of Dracula’s Castle. The girls had clearly tried to jazz it up with a stripy sofa and a few posters, but it still just looked like an awful space. I had no idea how many girls were in here, God I hoped the beds weren’t full. For now the room was empty except for the annoying girl who’d brought me in and a frumpy looking girl laid on her bunk reading, who barely even acknowledged me. Rude much?

I was totally bored after 5 minutes so I stripped off to my underwear and after glancing over my cases and deciding I was no way packing them away just yet, I grabbed a boring looking book and flung myself on the sofa.

One word. Ew. The two girls who walked in next definitely took the prize for the biggest trolls. Also for the biggest bitches. One was totally sick, with this disgusting mole thing, which the dorks call a ‘beauty spot’, please. The other had like, this awful straw hair, with a totally bland face which was in some sort of sneer, please, I might as well have shot myself there and then, the look she was giving me was something like ‘fresh-meat’ who did she think she was dealing with?

The looks they were giving me were awful, and I had no idea why they were doing it, I’d totally acted nice to the freaky happy girl, she probably thought we were B.F.F’s. So why would these girls hate me? They didn’t even say anything to me, and quickly all the girls were in bed, leaving me sat there like an idiot. It was 9PM for God sake. Climbing up to the bunk next to my stuff I relaxed on top of the sheet. I could feel my eyes closing…

…when a scream ran through the room.

“Get off my bed new girl!”

Who was this? Definitely my competition. Quite pretty I suppose, showing off an average body in her underwear, not an inch on me though. I jumped down from the bed, she wasn’t scaring me off.

“There’s a couple of empty ones, be nice to the new girl and give it to me.” I totally wasn’t backing down to this bitch, if she wanted this bed she should have claimed it, or she could blame the other girls for not telling me it was already taken.

“Did I just hear you right?! You’re the new girl, that means you’re basically our bitch. Now get out of my bed!” God she was dramatic. She was slurring her words a little, maybe she’d been drinking, but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t allowed.

“Don’t tell me what to do! I can have whatever bed I like, blame these dorks for not telling me it was yours, and don’t you dare call me your bitch!” A few of the girls had gotten out of their beds now and were watching from the sidelines, they probably only had this much fun when they got an A on a test. Geeks.

“You are a little freak! Get out of my bed you white trash whore!” OK, even I had to admit this girl was a little over the top, ‘white trash whore’? That one couldn’t even offend me because it was so far from the truth. Still, I wasn’t above physical violence, though I had never actually come to blows with another girl, maybe this was my way of asserting my ascendancy over the school.

Baring my fists I prepared to go for her, but as she looked down and realised I might actually hit her she turned away.


I could see her angry face out of the corner of my eye as I climbed gleefully back onto the bed. First victory, check.

The next couple of weeks passed much the same, the girls barely spoke two words to me. The overly happy girl from my first day seemed to want to, but Natasha (bed-incident) must have told her not to or something, I didn’t really care anyway. Classes were pretty easy, and I was always late. Every day I’d wake up to the same rush, half the girls already left, a few on their way out, and one or two still rushing to get dressed.

The shrieks of ‘Arielle, you’re late!’ used to ring through the dingy room for the first few days, but now they expected it of me. My choice of uniform was what Miss Brewster called a ’cause for discussion’ because it was not the regular uniform, I’d totally got a cuter version, though I’d had to stick with the same blazer. I told her a replacement was being made and it would be here in a few weeks (yeah right). The entire boarding school experience was pretty much awful, apart from one thing.

Mr Howland was the deputy head, and after I was roaming the hallways lost on the first day he took me into his office and showed me a map of the place. Well, I’d had to get out of my lesson so I kept him talking for a few hours, with a little flirting thrown in. Perhaps he could like, make this place a little more fun for me.

He was the total opposite of Noah, old, bearded, intellectual, cultured. This was around my eighth trip to his office in the past two weeks, I could tell he was getting a little hot under the collar when I crossed my legs and my skirt rose up a few inches. I’d always give him a sultry side glance, or a little wink when I came and left, and I flirted, but it was hidden, although I thought he got my drift.

This particular day things had… progressed from where it first started. It wasn’t as if he was my teacher, so I suppose what we were doing was harmless, OK so maybe it wasn’t, but at least it wasn’t illegal. We were in his office, and I was stood up so I could show off my toned legs, while he leaned on the desk. He was talking about Romeo and Juliet, (I had mom FedEx the DVD over so I could watch it in the common room last night) and I was pretending I knew what he was talking about when I decided to make things more interesting. It was so boring round here. I moved close to him. Closer than we’d ever been before, and definitely closer than was healthy.

“Sir, I was just wondering what was your favourite thing about Romeo and Juliet?” I whispered, he was so close I could feel his breath against my cheek.

“Um- Arielle, I-“

“My favourite thing about it is that its a forbidden love.” I said, smiling up at him. God it was so cheesy but it had better work, how could it not? He smiled back, clearly taken with me. Well duh.

“Arielle- You realise that I could lose my job, you could be expelled…” He was clearly uneasy about what was obviously about to come.

“Oh… I understand the consequences perfectly.”

*  *  *

Sorry for the long absence, which was explained in my last update. I realise this chapter may seem a little rushed, but as I have had such a long break I really wanted to get things moving and get people involved in Arielle’s story once more. Hope you enjoyed it!

P.S. The character ‘Mr Howland’ is based on Mort from The Sterling Legacy. (Though he is not done as well as Alexandra’s x)