Uh... hi. I'm Cassidy.

"Hello Cassidy, I'm Aiimee. I spell it with two 'eyes' and two 'ees', but you can't tell when I say it." Aiimee giggles and blinks as she pushes blank papers into a brand new trapper keeper.

You fight back the urge to be sarcastic. It is likely that there will be very few girls here, and you don’t want to alienate one straight away just because she is clearly a bimbo.

“So,” you search for small talk and find none. You are tired. Aiimee doesn’t notice. She finds all the small talk:

“Are you in Knight Hall? I’m in Knight Hall, I hope it doesn’t smell of boys. This used to be a boys only school. Boys only, can you imagine? I hope they don’t make us sleep next to boys. Do you think we’ll have classes with boys? I used to go to a girls only school. I like the idea better, still, school is school.”

“Why did you come here then?” you ask, getting the idea that every girl here will have been sent against her will. Who would want to sit next to boys?

“Mummy and Daddy didn’t think that an all girls school was… well, working out for me. But it doesn’t matter, they have facilities here that my old school didn’t have.”

Mummy? Daddy? Facilities? Shaking off the feeling you’ve walked into an Enid Blyton novel, you heave your bag over a badly placed wall in small courtyard, which you have to admit is charming. There are benches and flowers sheltered by a square of characteristic buildings that make you feel like an academic; you finally understand the phrase ‘the smell of history.’

Aiimee whitters on:

“… such as an engineer or chartered survey… OH LOOK!” Her squeak makes you leap from what you hope to be the first of many academic reveries, she is pointing and grinning. “It’s there Cassidy, doesn’t it look lovely! What room are you, what room are you? Come on!” She moves quickly to the front door of Knight Hall; it is then you realise she does not have a bag. You are about to ask her why not as she throws open the front door and you see her face wrinkle.

You catch her up and it hits you too. The smell of boys.

“Oh dear.” There is a glimmer of a dent in the cheerfulness, but it passes quicker that it was present. “Still!” Aiimee bucks up, “our rooms will smell better! What number are you?” You look at your map.

“Number eight.”

“Brilliant!! I’m number seven! We’re neighbours buddy! We’re buddies neighbour! Ell -Oh - Ell, what a coincidence. Lets go.”

You forget about Aiimee’s bag and let her help you with yours. You’re both excited to see your rooms. Aiimee may well be simple, but she’s lifted your mood. You go with your New buddy Aiimee into your New School, New Home, New Start.


The End

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