I reached the canteen, scanned the food and grabbed the moldy looking mashed potato and some sausages; I looked down at my tray as I entered the sitting area. I noticed a girl with blonde hair, like me and beautiful enchanting blue eyes, I walked over to her,
“Hey mind if I sit here?” I asked, she looked up at me and gestured to the seat opposite, “I’m Harry,” I smiled warmly, “you are….?”
“Rosie,” she mumbled engrossed in her carrot sticks,
“Is that an English accent?” I asked, and mentally cringed, I was the outsider here not them, I was alone, in England, surrounded by people with English accents.
“Dunno, is that an American one?” I laughed loudly and she looked up finally, I smiled warmly again, she looked sad and lonely, just like me.
“Is this your first year?” I asked,
“Uh-huh.” I sighed sadly and what was worse was that I was stuck for another few years, “What’re you here for?”
“Crimes I didn’t commit!” she mumbled,
“Join the club,” I muttered, I wasn’t the only one who had been falsely accused. “What class do you have next?” I asked looking at my timetable,
“English with Mr Wexley,”
“Shame, I’m with Miss Bookerman,” I said, I poked at my sausage and noticed Rosie’s attention was elsewhere.
“Oh crud,” she cursed,
“What?” I asked looking up, she looked worried, she pointed to the edge of the canteen where there were few windows and the ceiling light wasn’t working.
“See that shine?” she asked raising an eyebrow, “What do you think it is?”
“That’s bad!” I agreed, the girl, Kerry, who I had helped with her suitcases was being held, knife at throat with another guy looking terrified.
“Extremely,” she nodded,
“Think we should get the head?” I asked panicking,
“No, it could be too late by then,” she stood up, I looked up at her and pieced the evidence together,
“You can’t take him on!” I cried,
“Oh I’m not,” she smiled her eyes daring, “Pass me your mash.” I looked down at the goop, ah well it wasn’t fine cuisine and I would rather not have to eat it, I passed it to her intrigued.
“What are you planning?” I asked slowly,
“FOOD FIGHT!” she screamed and tossed the mash, bowl and all, at the guy with the knife, he got hit straight in the face. I laughed and ducked under the table,
“Well that was a dumb move,” I added, she smiled and rolled her eyes,
“Doubt it. I’ll bet that’s a given chance, you’d have to be stupid not to take advantage of the situation. Gotta go, check you later Harry,” she dashed off with a book to defend her pretty blonde hair from the flying meatballs.
I stayed under the table and watched the mess unfold. I thought back to how daring and courageous she had been, and then so attractively embarrassed by her move, she had astound both me and herself. I liked the way her eyelashes fluttered and the way her hair fell over her face, I got up from under the table and dashed to the exit. I was going to find her, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do then, but I wanted to see her again, talk to her, hear her beautiful English accent. I made my way down the corridor and stopped in my tracks, she was with another guy and they were laughing, I closed my eyes and exhaled. Too late. I was always too late.