Children Of The Crucible

Olivia

Authors Note
Hey guys, thanks so much for taking the time to read this. Feel free to leave any suggestions in the comments, would love to hear any ideas you might have. Anyway, will shut up now and get on with the story.

Olivia's PoV
I wander aimlessly down the corridor. I still have 20 minutes to kill. Why, you might ask? Well, I can't be arsed with class right now. I mean, who can be bothered with logarithms first thing on a Monday morning? Not me. I've just got to hope no one catches me skiving.

I walk towards the old English corridor. No one will find me sitting there. They stopped using these classrooms ages ago because the teachers kept complaining about the damp on the walls. It's not even that bad. I mean, I don't mind it- I still sit here. They built an extension anyway, so there is a new English department which won't get called out by any inspectors that decide to stop by. Not that I think the inspectors would give a crap - the rest of the school isn't that much better. The heating never works, half the taps in the bathroom are broken, and some of the ground floor windows still have massive cracks in them from the time some of the older kids broke in last summer. They had nothing better to do I guess. I'm honestly surprised the school hasn't been shut down. Yet.

Finally, it's time for music. I don't think much of the people in the class, but the teacher is really laid back and doesn't care what you do. I normally just sit staring at the sheet of music until the notes all blur into one, or make up an exciting story about a gang who breaks into school and turns all the teachers into flies or something. It's quite amusing really. I'm thinking about it today, actually, when my teacher approaches me. She is an unusually tall woman who always wears bright colours so that you practically need sunglasses to enter the classroom. She looks at my blank notebooks but doesn't say anything. I doubt she cares; she has been working at this school for 20 years and isn't long off of retirement.

"Ah, Olivia poppet, Miss Blake wants to see you in her office. Something about wanting you to show our new student around?"

Not thrilled about this idea, I smile sweetly and reply, "Of course miss, I'll head there just now." Miss Blake is our headmistress. She is bit of a cow, but better than music, so I head down to her office.

She is waiting for me when I get there, a lovely fake smile plastered on her face. I haven't really been in her office before and I wonder why she even picked me to show this new student around. I suspect she feels sorry for me since I don't actually have any friends in this school. Well, I don't need them. She shows me into the office, tells me to take a seat next to the new kid, and offers a biscuit. I shift uncomfortably in the stifling office, the hard plastic chair sticking to my skirt. The kid beside me- Sami, she tells me her name is- looks about as happy as I am about the situation. Miss Blake drones on about the schools values and crap like that but I don't pay attention. I've heard it all before, and let's face it, it's just plain lies. Sami, next to me, doesn't seem to be believing a single word either, just nodding in the right places. I respect her for that. By the time Miss Blake finally finishes, and shoves us out her office, telling me to take Sami on the famous tour, I have read every poster on the wall twice and have worked out what the quickest escape route would be if aliens attacked the maths department.

Out in the hall, an awkward silence hangs between us. I start talking about the classes, wanting to get this over as quickly as possible. She listens intently for fear of getting lost but I can tell she doesn't want to be here anymore than I do. I take her round the art rooms, and the computer suites, and every other department apart from maths. I don't want to risk being seen by my teacher who will start quizzing me on why I didn't go to class this morning. When I finish the tour (if you can even call it that), we sit in the canteen. There is still about 10 minutes to break and I don't want to head back to music.

"So what do you think of the school?"

Sami looks at me, as though debating whether she should pretend she likes it or just be honest and admit it's a dump.

"I hate it, if I'm honest. I'm just going to put up with it for the 2 years and 180 days I still have left."

I laugh at this. I wonder if she has genuinely been counting the days or if that is just a random figure she came up with. I agree with her- "Same. School's a right drag. I cannot WAIT to get out of here."

Having found something in common, we continue to talk about our hatred of school right through the break, which has never gone by so quickly. Turns out, Sami is in most of my classes. I didn't realise before, but having someone to talk to in classes makes them almost bearable. Usually, no one sits next me. And no, that doesn't mean I'm a loner, I'm just not a big fan of people. Well most people. Don't judge me.