L E O N I E

After exiting the classroom while the rest of my fellow peers taunted me with scandalous oohs and aahs - immature twats - I wandered down the vacant corridors in the direction of the school reception. Which was upstairs on the top floor.

You could mistake our office for an Apple waiting room. Floor to ceiling windows that offered a view over the entire school football field. White marble floors and an enormous circle shaped desk where the receptionists were stationed with their headsets in.

The desk was modern and sharp with charcoal fixtures and crisp white name plates to identify the women at work and their positions. The seating area offered a couple of comfortable leather couches and a glass table scattered with magazines and brochures about the school and what it offers.

Apparently I wouldn't need to sit down though because as soon as Gretchen - a short round German woman in her thirties - saw me, she pointed at the principles door and told me that he was waiting.

She had a thick accent and it made me smile whenever she spoke. She sounded terrifying, if you heard her voice without seeing her kind smile and plump overly blushed cheeks, you'd get a hell of a fright. But she was a teddy bear and we'd become well acquainted over the years.

It would have been hard not to considering how often I ended up in this office. It wasn't always to see the principle. There were multiple doors with thick platinum name plates screwed to the wood. The deputy principle. The head of behaviours council. The careers advisor. And a few others that hadn't applied to me so far. Mostly because I wasn't interested in sports or financial aid.

Without bothering to knock, I twisted the principles door handle and wandered on in. Mrs Sheridan, a thin woman in her mid sixties with white hair kept loosely back in a claw clip and bone structure to die for, was sat at her desk, staring absentmindedly out of her windows. Her office never failed to make me feel as if I was going to fall out of a plane or something horrific. Apart from the wall that the door was on, the rest of the office was windows. Just windows. The sort that she could see out of but no one could see in. She had a nice view that covered a decent portion of the grounds.

Her thin neck twisted, the tight skin pulling as she stared at me. Botox was keeping her from sagging too much. Her wry lips pulled into a polite smile. Mrs Sheridan was the sort of woman that could go from sweet doting grandmother to terrifying old witch in a matter of moments. I had experienced both. We had a complicated relationship.

"First thing on a Monday morning," I tutted as I let her door shut behind me. "This must be a new record. What have I done this time?"

She stood up, smoothing her royal blue pant suit which clung to her petite frame and clasped her hands behind her back. So that was the sort of conversation that she was going to be having with me. Mrs Sheridan had tells. She had specific actions that I had come to recognise in all of our meetings together. Her hands clasped in front of her, meant that she was feeling warm or welcoming. She wasn't going to throw me into detention and she might even tell me that she liked my hair or make up.

However, hands behind the back meant business and I became concerned, fluffing with the end of my thick ponytail which draped over my shoulder.

"One moment Leonie," she held up a frail finger and peered behind me as the door opened up, as if she had summoned the guest herself to arrive at that exact second. "Ah just who we've been waiting for."

I was about to suggest that we hadn't been waiting for anyone because I had stepped inside all of fifteen seconds ago. But when I peered behind me, I had to surpress an audible groan of objection at the tall orange barbie doll that was closing the door behind her. Of course, then I had to attempt not to wince when she turned around because damn, I hadn't been subtle about her beating.

Both of her eyes were dark and swollen. Her nose was more bent than Elton John and she had her lips slightly parted. Perhaps so that she could breathe. I began to put the pieces together and turned back to the principal with a dropped jaw. Not because I couldn't breathe through my nose. But because I couldn't believe what the hell was happening.

"Wait, this is why I'm here? This isn't a school issue," I waved my arm behind me and felt my hand make contact with a boob. I snapped my head to the side and winced at Harlin who scowled, now standing beside me in front of the desk. Not that it was hard for her to scowl, her eyes were already half closed. "Sorry. Okay but what is going on? You came to the principal about this?"

My Mom was going to move me to London if she caught wind of this and then I would end up in jail for finishing the job with this absolute brat.

"No," Harlin spat. "She made me come in here when she saw me this morning. She made me tell her what happened."

"It's none of your business," I told Mrs Sheridan with a harsh and panicked voice. The panic wasn't quite as obvious. I was beginning to sound aggressive. "This didn't happen on school grounds!"

"Leonie Ashford!" She snapped with an authoritative tone. If her skin could move, her brows would have been pulled together. Instead, she just wore a flat expression that was more intimidating than an angered one. "Bite that tongue until you are asked to speak. Understand?"

Deep breath in, I thought, needing to calm down. If I riled her up too much, she might call Mom and that's the last thing that I want. I nodded and folded my arms across my chest. Small dots continued to dance across my vision, it worked me up more than I wanted it to. But I let her continue.

"I am well aware that the issue is not one of the school's as the incident occurred over the weekend. However," her cold gaze darted between the two of us. "This sort of behaviour is barbaric and unacceptable. You're young ladies for heaven's sake. Pummelling each other shows no class. Although, you don't look as though you came out of it too badly, Leonie."

"Yeah because I whooped her," I shrugged a shoulder and could feel the hateful glares coming from Harlin beside me. "And for good reason. She was talking shit about my deceased boyfriend. Do you know how fucked up-"

"Language!"

"Sorry," I continued without pause, pinching my thumb and forefinger together in the direction of the witch beside me. "Do you know how messed up that is? I consider this a life lesson. Some people just need to be smacked sometimes. Perhaps next time she goes to open her fat mouth to diss a dead person, she'll stop and think, oh no. Last time I did this, I got my face caved in. It's called a learning experience."

Mrs Sheridan stared at me with boredom when I stopped. She waited for a few moments and then sighed. "Are you finished?"

"Let's hope so," Harlin mumbled.

"You can't punish us for this," I folded my arms again. "I know my rights. It's out of your jurisdiction. It'd be like Target trespassing me for stealing from Walmart. You can't do it."

"I'd forgotten what a motor mouth you have over the summer break," she sat back down in her larger leather chair and rubbed at her temples. "I am aware that I can't issue a punishment for something that happened outside of school. That's not the reason that I called you both here."

Harlin and I waited for her to proceed with whatever she'd pulled us out of home room for. The bell would ring for first at any minute and as much as I hated calculus, I hated being within two feet of the poster child for tans-how-not-to.

"We need to find a resolution," Mrs Sheridan suggested with her palm face up and a brow arched. I think. It was sort of hard to tell considering her skin was more elastic than a rubber band. "There must be something that we can do to resolve the issues between the two of you. Perhaps there's a common ground that both of you could find? Something you share?"

"If I have anything in common with this five foot nine walking carrot, you might as well put me on suicide watch," I smiled. Harlin scoffed and I moved another foot from her stank breath.

Mrs Sheridan's lips pursed in obvious objection. "Not an appropriate joke, all things considered, Leonie," she stood up and leaned over the desk with her palms pressed flat on the dark wood. "Fine. If you can't get along, we might need to implement some sort of— restraining order. To keep the two of you apart so that this doesn't happen again."

"Perfect," Harlin and I agreed in unison.

Mrs Sheridan let a frustrated exhale through her nose. Was she kidding herself? As if we would want to spend more time together. "We share a class," Harlin pointed out. "Advance computer science."

"One of you will be shifted—"

"I will," Harlin interrupted. "Mr Frank is a favouring old asshole."

"If one more person cusses in my presence, there will be severe consequences," Mrs Sheridan glowered and although she wasn't directing it all at me, I still felt like shrinking into myself. "Got it?"

We both nodded and she seemed satisfied. As satisfied as she could be given the situation. The bell for first sounded and she sat back down in her seat. Her bony fingers reached for the stack of post-it's beside her computer and she began scrawling down a message in cursive handwriting that could have been a font in word.

"Harlin, take this to reception and have them move you into a different advance computer science," she handed Harlin the note and then set her attention on both of us. "No talking, no fighting, do not use the same bathroom. I don't want to see either of you near each other. Understood?"

"Yeah."

Later that morning, between recess and lunch, I walked into biology and groaned at the several paragraphs of class work that was written out on the board. Text book pages that had to be studied, assignments for homework. The upside was that it would be independent work which meant that it would be easier to get away with hushed conversation. Tall benches stretched from one edge of the class to the other, students sat in the rows on their swinging stools, books out and pens moving.

The room was sterile with stainless steel benches and state of the art tech. Gilbert - the human sized model of the human anatomy, including removable organs - stood in the corner with his bits and pieces hanging about. I'd opted that we get him a pair of underpants but the teacher told me to grow up.

So the second suggestion had been to get Gilbert a girlfriend. Woman has different parts that were worth understanding, including a uterus and a brain.

But boobs were a distraction. Us girls were expected to have that plastic dick hanging out for an hour and not become flustered but God forbid we ask the males to control themselves around a set of educational boobs.

I had some serious concerns with this school's double standards.

"Lee!" I heard Bray's distinguishable voice and stared to the back of the class where he and Alex had reserved a space between the two of them.

It was amazing how motivating the thought of moving to London could be. I was seated and retrieving books from my matte grey backpack in a matter of moments. Alex was concentrating hard, as he often does when it comes to his academics. Science and all things related was of special interest to him. Bray had his phone between his knees under the bench and from a brief glance it appeared that he was snapping Jess. I wasn't going to look too hard. I'd end up seeing something that I didn't need to.

"How are the knuckles?" Alex said, sweeping his dark blonde fringe across his forehead. I was pleasantly surprised at the initiation in conversation. He was often reserved and quiet. More so around me because of his blatant crush that he had tried to convince me he was over during the summer. I gave him the benefit of pretending that I believed him. Perhaps he meant it though. He seemed a hint more confident than usual.

"The knuckles are fine," I held up my fist and assessed the band aids. There wasn't a constant ache but if I brushed it on something or knocked my knuckles too hard, it was more than a tickle. "Worth the pain considering Harlin and I have a no contact order direct from the principal."

"Legit?" Said Bray, sliding his cell phone into the pocket of his school slacks. His school shirt pulled tight around his arms as he leaned his elbows on the bench top. "Did she go to the principal?"

I shook my head. "Nope. Mrs Sheridan did her own investigation or something along those lines. We were in her office this morning. Harlin and I literally aren't allowed to talk or be in the same room if we can help it. Best thing to happen at this school, ever. She's even transferring out of our computer science class."

Bray pumped his fist with excitement while Alex took a different approach and grumbled. "She'll end up in mine."

"You'll live," I waved a dismissive hand and flipped open my text book to the nerves section on page seventy five. "She doesn't hate you or want to sleep with you. So consider yourself safe."

He gave me a thumbs up and continued to highlight the notes on his page. The same ones that I needed to be scrawling. Alex had such a neat outline in his books. It was clean and easy to read. He highlighted and colour coordinated his subjects. No wonder he hadn't failed a test since freshmen. He was advanced at studying and focus.

Bray gave me a nudge and shook his head with exasperation. "Sheesh, way to make him feel irrelevant," he said, pointing at Alex. He leaned over me and patted his best friends arm. "I'm sure that she'd be keen to smash dude. She's keen to smash whatever glances in her direction."

"Yeah," I nodded with sarcasm. "That's better."

He shrugged with his palms face up and his pen between his fingers. Alex sighed and pinched the bridge of his crooked nose. "I'm quite alright. Thanks though. I don't need to smash."

"Speaking of," Bray interrupted and I turned to see that he was regarding me with a scandalous smile and wriggling brows. "Jade said that Heath took you home on Saturday night. You two hitting it?"

"Uh no," I shook my head. "No. He just took care of me. He's a med student. I was a patient for all it mattered."

"Someone sounds a little disappointed."

"As if," I scoffed at his smug expression. "He's not really my type."

Bray made a loud noise of objection which caused Mrs Yule to peer up from her desk where she was tapping furiously at her keyboard. No doubt she was drafting up some sort of pop quiz to surprise us with in the next week. She narrowed her glare in our direction while we pretended to be one hundred percent on task until she returned her focus to the laptop screen.

"Heath is a good looking dude," he rested an elbow on the bench top and fixed me with a playful grin. "He's tall, dark hair, muscular. Definitely your type."

I stared at him with a raised brow, ignoring the fact that he was blatantly listing his own physical attributes for an ego boost. "Are you sure that you don't have a crush on him?"

He sighed with faux disappointment. "He wasn't keen to get more intimate. I gave it a go."

"Egg," I laughed. "Besides, didn't Jess tell you that she came over when he was still in the apartment. She knew all the details?"

"Na," he shook his head. "We were texting Sunday but she didn't mention it."

"Suppose she didn't find it as interesting once she found out that nothing was going on," I shrugged. It also might have been the fact that she didn't want to disrespect girl code. I doubted it though. Jess could never keep exciting news to herself. It was one of those traits that was great to exploit when it suited. However, it wasn't great if you were the subject of something that was meant to be kept on the down low. She was getting better with age, I'd give her that.

"So are you over this hot and cold bullshit?" I questioned, subtly steering the conversation away from myself. The sound of Alex tapping his pen on the paper came from beside me and from the slow speed of his taps, it was safe to assume that he was deep in thought. "You like Jess, right? No messing her about. Get out now if you're not into it. Because she'll end up hurt and I'll end up cutting your dick of with a spoon, blending it in front of you while you bleed out and then serving peñis-colada cocktails at your funeral."

I heard Alex mumble 'gross' under his breath, so he can't have been focusing on his work too hard. Bray looked mortified. And so he should. I wasn't kidding. I would do some serious damage if he intentionally screwed over my best friend. He nodded and ran a hand through his cropped brown hair which sat in effortless style on the top of his head.

"I do like her," he nodded. "I think that was what stressed me out on Saturday. It's just— strong and new. Yeah I'm a dude but feelings can be overwhelming for me as well."

"I feel," I nodded, twisting from side to side on the stool. Real talk wasn't something that I was blessed to be a natural at. But I didn't want to bum him out either. "Well that's good. Treat her well. Or die. The choice is yours."

He pursed his lips and nodded as if he was unsure whether to take me seriously or not. But then Alex took hold of the conversation again and I turned to him with a soft smile. "I heard your Mom is moving to London," he said with a hushed voice.

"Who told you?"

"Jess."

"Ah," I nodded, not at all surprised that she had shared that information. We both knew that her parents could not find out. But among ourselves, nothing was kept a secret for long. "Yeah. She leaves on Wednesday."

"Is that kind of scary?" He asked with sincere concern.

"Na I'm not worried. The apartment is safe. I have a lot to keep me occupied. It means more freedom. I'm sure that I'll miss her once she's gone but I'm not worried that I'll fall apart."

He nodded. "Will you do anything before she leaves?"

"Goodbye party for Momma Meredith?" Bray suggested with enthusiasm. I ignored him of course. He knew all too well that he's the last person that Mom would want to see in her apartment before she goes to London, essentially leaving me to my own devices.

"We've got a dinner tomorrow night," I said, chuckling at Brays disappointment. "Some flash joint that she's made reservations for. Should be a good evening."