Shipped Off... to English Boarding School!

4. Flying Boxers

Trigger warning: Vivid descriptions of cancer

That first Friday afternoon, Alex walked into his dorm room to find all of his stuff gone. As usual, Tim's stuff was spread out onto his side of the room, but Alex's bedding was gone, his drawers were empty, even his fucking toothbrush was missing from the cup in the bathroom.

Then Tim walked in the room. "What the fuck, Tim? What did you do with all my shit, is this some stupid fucking prank? Because I swear to god–"

Tim scoffed and then started laughing, "What? What do you think you could do to me? And I didn't touch your shit, such a waste of time. I was told that they realized their mistake and you were being moved so I could finally have the double to myself like I was supposed to. I don't know who or where they took your shit. Now get out of my room."

Alex stormed out as Tim called behind him, "Oh! And leave you're key or I'm having the locks changed."

He could deal with getting the fucking locks changed for all Alex's cared. Outside the door was Mrs. Harrison again. "Ah, Mr. Claremont-Diaz. I apologize for not being able to find you sooner. You have been moved, per the request of another student, to other accminadations. Here is your new key. It's in the North Tower, Room 111. You will find all of your stuff there."

"Oh, ok." Regardless of stupid Tim finally getting what he wanted, this couldn't be any worse for Alex than rooming with Tim was. Hopefully his new rommate wasn't an asshole. Honestly he'd settle for just less-of-an-asshole. "I would've been able to move my stuff myself," is the nicest thing he could think of to say that wasn't 'why the fuck did you move my shit without asking me first?' He took the new key on the school-logo keychain. "Where is the North Tower?"

Even with the directions she gave, it took Alex nearly a half hour to find the right building. God this campus was huge (he never did actually get that map). The tower was clearly old architecture, like most of the main buildings here, but preserved very well. Inside the light poring through the stained glass created rainbows on the floor.

Upon entering, Alex immediately noticed how quiet the students were. It was nothing like the new-money students of his pervious building. The students here was dressed nicely, but not flashy. Clearly they all came from old-money. They studied quietly in big chairs around the multiple fire-places in the lobby. There was even a few butlers around, serving coffees or standing silently off to the side, waiting to be called upon.

Alex made a Pros and Cons list:

Pro: With the quiet, he would be able to get much more studying done.

Pro: His roommate probably won't be messy. These kind of people were too fancy to be messy.

Con: These definitely weren't his people. At least the new-money assholes understood his scarasum and loud mouth. There would be no place for that here among the elite of the elite.

How did he end up here though? Tim would never have requested Alex get a room here. Was it a cruel joke because Tim knew Alex wouldn't fit in here? No, Tim himself likely wanted to be in this building, where Alex guessed the people with the most power in British society probably lived. Was it just the only other building with space?

He got in the elevator. There were eleven floors. Considering his room number was 111, he figured he was on the top floor. He was right. As he exited the elevator, the door right in front of him read 111 with golden letters. He turned the key in the lock.

"Oh, hello. I was wondering when you might get here." Sitting on the bed, was Prince Henry, smiling at him.

What.