Six

230 19 5
                                    

EDITED, 30/7/13

As the car pulled up to a long, curved drive, Adrian crammed his head eagerly to catch his first glimpse of his new school.

Though he’d been a new student at a school before (his primary school in the local village, St Benedict’s School, was the first school he’d ever been to, so theoretically he was a new student, and then he entered his first and only term at Cresdale School in London, where everyone in Year Seven was new), he felt an unusual surge of excitement about attending a proper secondary school. Though Cresdale had been a school, anyone between the ages of nine and sixteen could attend who had some form of difficulty, and Adrian did not ever see Cresdale as a normal secondary school, since he couldn’t study normal subjects and the class rooms were tailored to certain children’s needs. Adrian had taken the higher classes, designed for students who were intelligent, but had emotional difficulties such as depression or savant autism; he’d taken higher maths and English, with history, classics and physics, though he was in the normal classes for chemistry and biology. Another subject was called ‘Home Studies’, where each student learnt how to cook and clean for themselves. Adrian had a specially tailored ‘social class’ which he was put into with four other boys, including Ronald, who had got him expelled.

Though Adrian had never been ignored, he hadn’t fit in at Cresdale’s either, even when he tried his hardest and lied about all of the things he was interested in just to gain friends. Everyone had been interested in outside activities, like football and cricket, and exercise was forced on the children daily as a form of stress relief. Adrian lied almost daily, saying he was into polo (which he rather liked, actually) and cricket (which he’d never played), and never mentioning the books he’d read in the last week. Mentioning his books had deemed him a ‘clever freak’, and at Cresdale, they all seemed to prefer the ones who sucked their own feet.

II

Just above the dark green leaves of the towering trees ahead, Adrian could see the tops of the rooftops. Towers, spirals of pale stone elegantly carved, were visible and he could just make out a small touch of green… a copper roof!

“Morey, does the school have a copper roof?”

Morton looked up from his phone (a Nokia 2110) at his brother, whose eyes were glinting with excitement. He hadn’t seen his brother look so wired.

“Yes, but stop asking me. You’ll see it soon.”

“How long?”

“Ask the driver.”

“Mister Richards, how long is it until we reach the school?”

“The drive is over a mile long, sir. We shall be arriving very soon.”

“Thanks Mister Richards.”

“Pleasure, sir.”

As they turned the corner, Adrian’s pale green book hit the car floor with a dull thud, though he didn’t seem to notice. His legs had been un-tucked and his feet were bouncing from the floor, his arms gripping the cold leather of the seat. He’d been travelling for nearly three hours in a chauffeur driven car with only one stop for lunch, and his excitement had finally flooded him like a water floods its container. He’d just been waiting- oh, the waiting!- for his first glimpse of Winchester College, and he’d finally seen it. A magnificent building which was similar to an Oxford College, pale stone and spirals and halls and Quod…

“Adrian. We’re here.”

As the car came to a grinding holt outside the school, Adrian peered out of the tinted car window to see a tall, leering stone building. Eager to see more, he hurried out of the car and stood, arms at his side and legs dead straight, and looked up at his new school.

The building, made of pale, large stones, stood four floors high. The main door was in the middle of the building and was made of a thick, dark wood with a brass knocker. There was a small bell on the right hand side, which Adrian wanted to push desperately. Would a head boy answer? A receptionist? But his attention was snapped away by the top of the building. On the far left, there was a huge tower on the side of the building which extended way above the building itself, topped with a gothic edging on the merlons and embrasures which made the building step back in time. On the right there was a balcony which overlooked the extensive green grounds which were littered with huge oaks and small ponds.

“Are there ducks, Morey?”

Morton jumped and tucked his Nokia into his blazer pocket.

“Y-yes, little brother, there are.”

“Can we see them?”

“You can walk around the grounds once we’ve signed in.” He turned to the chauffeur. “Mister Richards, have you got our luggage?”

“I have, sir.”

“Good,” Morton swallowed and adjusted his tie. “Follow me.”

III

Inside, the light drastically changed. As Adrian stepped into the main hall, he noted the dark panelling on the tall walls and the dark floorboards on the floor. High above his head there was a bright chandelier which cast pale, yellow light into the otherwise dim room, where the only other light came from the two huge windows near the door.

In the corner, Adrian noticed the reception desk and a huge board opposite, where the lunch menu and classes were showed. He briefly wondered what the food was like, but he soon forgot about it as Morton (taking the luggage from Richards) lead him up the huge mahogany stairs.

“All of the rooms are up here Adrian; it’s where you sleep, eat, and use the library. Class rooms are around the back, but it all depends on the year. You’ll find out soon enough. Mummy phoned the school and they said that your form slept in dorm 21B, which is good because that means you’re nearer me than we originally thought. If you have any problems, you must come to me, alright? Adrian? Are you listening?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Well, your room is just down there.”

Morton pointed down a long, darkish corridor. Morton awkwardly patted his brother on the shoulder and gave him his small suitcase.

“I’ll see you at dinner brother.”

“See you, Morey.”

IV

The room, named 21B, was the noisiest room Adrian had ever been in, and it scared him.

At Cresdale, noise was kept to a minimum because it was often very distracting or stress-causing, and at home the house was so big that there was only ever a lot of noise when it was Christmas, because the cousins came round. Noise was often the main factor of a Going Wrong moment, so everyone was always quiet, but now, all hell had broken loose.

“LOOK, THERE’S THE NEW KID!”

The voice was so loud that Adrian nearly shook from a strange, almost nervous fear. What if they didn’t like him? What if he was classed as strange? What if he had a Going Wrong moment? What if Morey embarrassed him? What if he said something wrong? What if they spilt liquid on his books? What if they pulled at his clothes? What if he was beaten up? What if he was annoyed by them-

“Hi, how are you?”

The voice was much quieter than the first one, with pale hair and pale eyes. His hand was extended and Adrian, taking a very, very slow breath, shook it, trying not to think about the fact that he was actually touching someone.

“I’m good thank you.”

“My name is Christopher.”

“I’m Adrian.”

“It’s nice to meet you Adrian.”

“It’s very nice to meet you too, Christopher. I’m going to unpack now… um, goodbye.”

With shocked eyes, the young blond boy shook his head, chuckled a little, and turned back to his own business. 

PseudologyWhere stories live. Discover now