Surviving Highschool.

Chapter 3

When I awoke the next morning, I hoped that my parents had forgotten about what had happened last night. But as I got out of bed, I knew I was wrong. My room was bare. Everything I owned was in a bag or box stacked against the wall. I got up and went in to the kitchen to see my parents at the table. They looked scary. My mother looked like she had just sucked on a lemon. I wondered how long they had been sitting there to achieve that perfect scariness. The thought of them sitting there at two o'clock in the morning with me dad saying “No. That’s just not good enough. She wont be scared by that. We’ll have to try again” made me giggle, but then I was silenced with a glare from both of them. Ooh. Not good. I put some bread in he toaster and sat on the couch.

“Table” my dad barked. I sat down, expecting to be yelled at, but was greeted with only silence. I fidgeted and stared at my hands, waiting for them to make the first move. They didn’t.

“Um, I” I started to say something.

Wrong move. Dad sent a look so dark across the table it would make Arnold Schwarzenegger turn, run and hide. I suppressed a laugh at the mental image. I didn’t want make things worse.

“Caroline Stevens”, my father began. That’s bad. Even when I accidently broke down the front door, he just yelled “CARLY!”

“You have been sneaking out at night.” He stated. Don’t deny it. We know you have. What we want to know is why.”

I wondered if he really wanted to know the truth, or wanted a lie. “Well”, I began, toying with the bottom of my pyjama top, “I don’t like it here. Its stupid.”

Well, okay, so it’s not completely a lie…but it was kind of untrue. It’s stupid and boring.

“Okay, say it is stupid here”, he mused. “You going to tell us why?”

“I don’t really know why it’s stupid. It just is. You know how like there’s always the runt of the litter? Well that’s what this is; the runt of every place we’ve lived. Ever.”

“We’ve only lived in Farina and Perth.” My mother interrupted.

“Well, Farina was much better than here. And that’s saying something, because I didn’t even like it there.”

That’s bull. You loved it there. If I remember correctly, you cried for eight hours when we left.”

“Nine, actually. She cried that hour you were at the real estate agents.” My dad corrected her. “Well, there you go.” She said, turning to look at me. “Crying for nine hours doesn’t say to me ’I don’t like it here’. It says ’I love it here, don’t make me go’.”

“Nah, you think?” I mumbled to myself. Out loud, I said ”Okay, so I liked it there. So what’s your point exactly? Because I’m kind of not seeing it”

Bad move. That only got me a slap across the face. Ow. That hurt. I bit back tears.

“Look” I spat. I was getting mad now. “You know exactly why I snuck out! It’s not the place I’m missing; it’s the people. You know-friends! You should try making some!”

I probably shouldn’t have lost it like that. It only earned me another slap. Ow again. I decided to just shut up. Bad move also. They thought the silence was a sign of disrespect. I can’t win. Isn’t there anything I can do to get on their good side?

How many bad moves can one person make? I thought.

So, I tried to appeal to what was left of their better nature by asking if there was anything new, as if it were any other morning. They just sighed and bit into their toast as if I were simply a lost cause.

After about ten minutes of silence, my mother spoke again. “Okay, here’s the deal. I know you’re not happy here, and you don’t have any friends and you don’t like the school-“ she went to say more, but I cut in. “Wrong, I have lots of friends!” my dad silenced me from saying anything more with a glare. “Shut up and let your mother speak”. He ordered.

I shut up.

“Like I was saying”, she continued, also glaring at me. God, how many times can I be glared at?! “I know you don’t like it here, so your father and I have found a solution. Auldington Academy.”

I figured it would look like a prison. But instead, I saw pink and blue brick walls, trees and shrubbery everywhere; people smiling…stuff prison, this was a freaking goddamn nursery!

I looked at the brochure, then o my parents, then back to the brochure in disbelief. “You’re freaking kidding me, right?” I almost screamed. “If I wanted to go to a childcare centre for dummies then I would babysit!”

My mother just shook her head. “This isn’t a childcare centre, it’s a boarding school.”

“Well tell that to the designers of this” I held up the brochure. “I mean how old is this anyway. Have you been holding on to this ’just in case’? I mean come on, this is what you want isn’t it? What you’ve always wanted? To get rid of me?”

“She’s ranting again.” I heard my dad say simply. I turned over the publication and looked at the date on it.

“This publication is correct at time of printing, 17th October, 1854” I read aloud.

Then I had a thought.

“1854? Where the hell did you get this from? How old is this place?” I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “How old are you?”

“As old as you think we are.” They said in union. Wow, that was creepy.

Then my mother said, “ it obviously doesn’t look like that now, but the values are still the same. It’s a school for delinquent children, and you fit the profile perfectly”

“Umm, jeez, thanks. TLC has got nothing on you…” I said sarcastically. My dad seemed to be having a mental battle with himself; to hit or not to hit. He went with not. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

“This is the best school for you and we have decided that you will attend. You have no say in the matter because we are the adults and you are the child.”

Greeeeeeaaaat. Now they’re gonna use authority against me. Well, two can play at that game.

“Well, yes, I am a child. But I’m not necessarily your child now, am i?”

i knew that hurt, and that they’d be pissed when they reality of what I just said hit them, so I ran to my now near empty room. And waited for the storm after the calm.

“CAROLINE!” Yup, there it is. I locked the door.