Until We're Gone

The next day, I woke quite early having had an awful night’s sleep. I quickly got up and showered, once again getting yelled at by Justin for singing. Clearly I didn’t get the memo that he was king of the fucking school. That pretty much killed my mood. Matters were made worse by the fact I was tired and irritated from having had such a bad night’s sleep, so I crawled back into bed as the boys went about getting ready and eventually fell back to sleep a few minutes after they had left the room. I wasn’t sure how strict the school’s policy on lateness and truanting was, but I guessed there was only one way to find out.

I wasn’t sure how long it took for the teachers to come searching for me. Apparently, several teachers owned a master key for all the dorms, which I thought was totally ridiculous. Clearly, privacy was not a concept this school was familiar with.
“Miss Anderson,” a voice muttered. My eyes snapped open and I glanced up to see Mrs. Manning standing above me with a stern expression on her face.
“Miss Anderson, did I not make myself clear on Sunday?” She stared at me blankly for a few seconds before her facial features twisted into an expression of disapproval.
“I suggest you stop ignoring me and pay attention to what I have to say. I’m trying my best to help you Savannah but you and I will not get along if you do not pull your act together. Your father warned me that I would have to keep a close eye on you and I assured him I would do, but what I’ve seen is completely unacceptable. Within your first twenty four hours of being here, I hear you’ve gotten into a fight with another student, and now you don’t turn up to class.”
“Alright,” I cried defensively, “I can’t deal with a lecture first thing in the morning.”
“Lucky for you then it’s past noon,” she mumbled before extending her arm to point to my phone on the bedside table. “I take it this is yours?”
“What’s it to you?” I snapped.
“Failure to comply with the school rules will result in confiscation of personal property I’m afraid.”
“Miss, you can’t do that,” I exclaimed, sitting up in bed, suddenly wide awake.
“I just did.” I felt anger coursing through my veins. She was complaining about my attitude yet she was the one with the worst attitude I’d ever seen. I hated how she made me seem like the bad one when I actually felt like more of a victim in the situation. Sure, I was late to class, but that didn’t call for her to attack me like that. It made me feel stupid and pathetic and I didn’t like it at all.
“Give me my phone back,” I demanded, reaching out my hand.
“Gladly,” she grinned, before continuing, “When you learn to follow simple instructions.” She simply slid my phone in her pocket and turned to walk out the room.
“Starting by being ready in time for fourth period.”
“Fuck off,” I muttered under my breath as Mrs. Manning slammed the door.
After taking a few minutes to calm myself down, I decided to get ready and go to class for the sake of getting my phone back.

The day’s lessons dragged so much and I still failed to make any friends. I wasn’t sure what the technical word for them was, but through my peculiar mind-reading abilities, I was able to tell that Fletcher wasn’t too keen on the idea of me making friends. It was strange, because I’d always assumed Fletcher wanted me to be happy, and surely making friends would make me happy, providing they weren't complete retards? Then again, maybe he was just being paranoid. Maybe he worried that I would find someone I liked more than him. That certainly seemed feasible given what he said the other day – him being paranoid that is, not me finding someone I like more than him. I believed whole-heartedly I’d never find someone I liked more than him. Instinctively, I reached for my phone to call him, only to remember that Mrs. Manning still had my phone. Sighing, I thought back over the morning’s events, realising that maybe I had been out of line. Of course, there was no reason for her to have been so rude, but I was the one who hadn’t followed the school policy, no matter how shitty I believed it was.
Soon, I found myself outside the head-mistress’s door. I knocked on it lightly and pushed the door open, only to be greeted by an unfamiliar face.
“Sorry, do you know where Mrs. Manning is?” I asked.
“She’s gone home early today I’m afraid. Is there anything I can do for you honey?” The woman was pretty and fairly young, possibly in her late twenties or early thirties. Her small face was framed with choppy blonde hair and she gave out a positive friendly vibe.
“I just wanted to talk to her about this morning…I guess I was kind of rude,” I said quietly, feeling my cheeks blush red. The woman stared at me intently and then gave me a knowing look.
“You must be the infamous Miss Anderson,” she smirked and I nodded. She continued looking at me in a strange sort of way, although I couldn’t pinpoint quite what it was. Then she extended her arm and gestured for me to take a seat. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
“I’m surprised to hear you say that. It seems like I’m already known for all the wrong reasons here,” I sighed, sitting down on the small leather seat opposite the desk.
“I wish I could tell you otherwise but that would make me a liar.” Instantly, I took a liking to her. I wasn’t sure why but there was something about her that made me see her as more of a friend than a teacher.
Little did I know what I had coming.