Lowewood Academy

“You’re an appalling liar Abbotts.”  Edward Cole-Green sneered digging his fingers deeper into my shoulder.  I bit my lip to stop myself gasping; I didn’t want to give the bastard the satisfaction.

“Everyone knows you went crying to your Mummy and that’s why we’ve got a bunch of pikeys camped in the grounds, are you going to cry for me now?”  he questioned.

“Fuck you.  It’s as much of a surprise to me as anyone else, not that it’s any of your business anyway.”  I hissed.  Half the prefects had made their mind up that I’d masterminded my Mother’s arrival and were going out of their way to make their disapproval known by whacking me at every possible opportunity.  The odd thing was that it was making me mad at her, not them.

“Language young lady, though if you were raised in a tent I’m hardly surprised.  I shall have to add it to your list of transgressions.”  Edward drawled.  Transgressions that were as fabricated as a transgression ever could be.  Not that it ever mattered.

“You can start by taking off your skirt and knickers.”  he said with a smirk.  I was feeling rash, maybe suicidal.

(more…)

“It’s not good enough, Townsend. You seriously need to pull your socks up.”

Hey I know it’s a lame one, and I know you shouldn’t rise to them…but sometimes it just gets the better of you! So I gave both of mine a good tug, tried my best to smother my smirk as I straightened up again and gave my apologies as demurely as ever.

“I’m sorry, Edward. I’ll try harder tomorrow.”

He glared at me. Oh what the heck? He was obviously itching to whack me anyway, I may as well make it worthwhile.

“And you clearly have an attitude problem as well,” my least-favourite prefect snapped back. “One which I intend to adjust.”

As he crossed the study towards his desk, I reflected on how my fagging duties were not running smoothly. Some weeks it felt like I spent more time in Byron than Dashwood, running round after Edward and Archie. The latter wasn’t even a prefect, but Edward still seemed to expect me to fag for his room mate and buddy as well as for him, it’s so unfair. At least Archie can’t lay a finger on me though, he’s such a creep. Instead he has to content himself with grassing me up to ECG, which had translated to at least one trip across his knee per week so far, during which Archie had leered throughout, the avid spectator. It also meant the sort of regular house points leakage which was going to catch Juliet’s eye very soon if I couldn’t somehow stem it. A prospect which, right at this moment, didn’t look all that hopeful.

(more…)

Funny how, in many ways, I was pleased to be back! I know, freaky huh? The south of France had been lovely, of course, and with one notable exception the girly trip to London had been shiny too. But overall, the summer hols were too long: my brothers got on my wick, mum was something else and if I had to visit the Marsdens one more time right now then I’d probably end up doing something I’d be locked up for! After all that, Lowewood felt like it really did have quite a lot to offer!

The coolest thing about this year, of course, is our new rooms! It’s so much more personal and spacious to have just one room mate instead of being in a dorm. Cassie and I took great pleasure in decorating our home-from-home and making it ours, especially as she’d brought back so many amazing rugs and things from Morocco. Then whilst we were strewing stuff around, our hockey team mate Claudia Delamere popped her head in.

“Wow – look what you’ve done to the place!” Adding, by way of an explanation: “This was mine and Lydia Seymour’s room last year.”

“Hey, welcome back!” grinned Cass. “Cuppa?”

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