Chapter 1

A spy story set in early high school Australia. Writing in first person with a high vocabulary.

My parents are shipping me off to the local boarding school. They announced it at Christmas stating that it was the hardest decision of their life, that the inevitable ache in their hearts would be a necessary sacrifice for my education. I don’t believe them. I’m not the blonde, flexible cheer captain, the popular and powerful class president nor am I the Queen B***h with my army of cruel and cunning disciples. They didn’t order a pale, redhead, outsider. My parents… wish I didn’t exist.

 

Today is my first day at Forest Mount Boarding School for advanced academics, and so I stand in front of the mirror in my conservative uniform. I feel like a dork. I had pulled my dark red hair back messily so that my long fringe hung in harsh contrast with my sickly pale skin. I’m dressed in, a formal white shirt, with the forest mount crest on the pocket and a dark green checkered kilt. The kilt is hanging below my ankles despite the 2 inches I hemmed last night. I laced up my docs which are as black as my lips are red, and once more I moodily stare into the mirror to complete my depressing dorky look.

 

Mum refused to interrupt her incredibly crucial 30minute post makeup self-adoring stare to ask her chauffeur to drive me. So, I trudged 5km with luggage in tow, through the hail till finally, water logged, I found myself at the rusty, ancient gates of Forest Mount Boarding School. I threw open the vine covered gates and ran for shelter from this blasted hail.

 

As I ran a blurry view of gothic bluestone columns and stain glass bay windows protruded from the vast green landscape. The second my foot touched the threshold a strange feeling flowed through me as though I didn't belong, a feeling that nearly made me run into the vast forest never to be found. "Oh good you're here at last, here is your class schedule, dorm room key and you may go unpack your luggage now. Class starts tomorrow, don't be late," that was Miss. McQue a thin, flat-chested b***h who's overly bleached hair was pulled back in a bun. Even the beautiful red vintage dress she wore couldn't hide her hideous appearance, which could only be punishment for her horrid personality. I took the key and ran away from the tyrant.

 

603 that must be me. Quel bordel! My room is a brothel. A crowd of high heeled over the knee boots and dark coloured corsets unpacked large trunks neatly piled on the left bed. They seemed to be aiding my promiscuously dressed roommate, who introduce herself as Roxy. Despite their inappropriate attire, they were well mannered and gracious. Some of them even helped me unpack.

 

It's Friday and the first week is almost over. I have strict, religious geeks for teachers, a prostitute for a roommate and no friends. Such an awesome start to the year. Mum was right; I don’t belong anywhere.

 

A guy from my intro Latin class is waving at me. He is quite cute, one might even say he is hot. He is tall, slick and the most desirable male in my grade; his suggested academic success is somewhat legendary.

 

"Hey, do you know what Miss. McQue's problem is?"

"She looked in the mirror, and it showed her the truth." He smirked at that and gifted me a giggle, maybe this might get better yet.

“I’m Gabriel by the way.”

“Cordelia.”

“Do you think you could help me with the Latin homework?” Now it makes sense I can’t believe I thought someone that popular would want to speak to me.

“Yeah sure. When?”

“5 period, if you can.”

“So I guess I’ll meet you in the library.”

“No, we meet out the back near the chapel?” Why the hell would he want to go there? Uh whatever it doesn’t matter he just wants this pale geek to do his homework.

“Ok. Umm, I have class…”

“Oh, I’ll see you in 5^th” If he remembers.

 

I was sitting next to Roxy in Philosophy when she passed me a note.

“So what’s painted that grin on your face?”

“Nothing.”

“Really, so it has nothing to do with Gabriel.”

“He just asked me to help him with the Latin homework.”

“With his academic excellence, I highly doubt that is his true intention.”

“What are you implying?”

“When are you meeting up?”

“Next period.”

“I’ll do your hair it will only take a minute.”

“What? Why?”

“This is philosophy why is the only important question.”

 

Roxy is dragging me to the bathroom saying something about a latter braid, but I am far too busy attempting to escape her iron grip to listen, however; my resistance is futile against her hermetic strength. Ignoring my protests, Roxy began braiding my hair and complaining about my ignorance.

“You won’t know that a guy liked you even if he dropped on one knee. Just trust me; this is what friends are for.”

“You think of me as a friend,” could I-  possibly have a friend.

“Of course. We could be bestie if you opened-up and stop believing that no one wants to be your friend. I do and so does Gabriel.”

“Speaking of which I’m going to be late.”

“Nope. Finished, admit it you look good.”

“I for once yeah I do.”

“Ok, we’ll work on your self-esteem later. Now hurry up, or you will be late.”

   

I feel queer striding towards the meeting place Gabriel had indicated; it is a large patch of grass placed behind the eldritch chapel bordered by an elegant labyrinth of trees. I am quite estranged from the concept of having friends, especially popular ones. It’s the principal reason why mum attempts to forget my existence. If I were to abruptly procure social power she might even be proud; as it is her sole ambition in life to be queen bee.

 

 

I'm going to die. Gabriel is lifting a rifle from the stump of a red gum and aiming it right at me. Seriously is this it? Is this how I’m going to die? Meeting a boy behind a boarding school to do homework. At least mum will get her wish, no more disappoint from her pathetic daughter and a sympathic crowd to hang on her every word. Dad will probably get a few weeks of pub sympathy and free beers. Maybe my parents paid him to kill me. I wonder how much they would have paid him. Bang. I’m not dead? What a bad shot. Thump. The still breathing corpse of a large of brutish man fell on to the green lawn, holding a handgun. What?