Post by rainstormamaya on Apr 23, 2010 8:23:51 GMT 10
Title: Welcoming and Friendly
Rating: PG-13
Length: 607 words
Summary: Kelly’s room at King’s School Corus leaves something to be desired.
Author’s Notes: In the same AU as Plane and Simple.
Please be warned that there is a certain amount of rather offensive language in this. It is not language I would ever use, but a bunch of teenage boys with an eye to insulting a girl certainly would.
****
“Would you like some help with your suitcases, Kelly?” Piers Milton asked, looking at the winding staircase up to Kelly’s dorm and devoutly hoping that she wouldn’t.
Kelly, being fully aware of her father’s back issues – along with her mother, all her brothers and sisters, her uncles, aunts and cousins, the Deputy Ambassador, the Deputy Ambassador’s wife, and almost the entirety of the Tortallan Embassy – shook her head. “If you just wait with the cases I can get them upstairs one at a time.”
She chose a bag, hefted it, and began to forge her way up the narrow staircase and through equally narrow corridors: luckily she had a head for directions and a decent idea of where she was going, or she’d never have got anywhere. Up a staircase, along a corridor, up another staircase, and to the left...
As she walked, eyes front, the bag’s handles cutting into her hands, she heard the whispers and sniggers and the sharp bangs of doors as boys peering through them shut them abruptly. She caught glimpses of uniform jackets and askew ties, flashes of blond and dark and gingery hair, and pretended she hadn’t.
Eventually she reached the door to a tiny room, squashed into a corner of the building: one of only a very few single rooms in the entire building. It had her name on it, on a printed card, and the door was ajar.
Gently, very gently, Kelly pushed open the door. It swung open at her touch. Checking the floor and ceiling for booby traps, she stepped inside, and looked around, and her heart sank at what she saw. The room had been entirely trashed: the bed was covered in some kind of stuff Kelly didn’t want to think about, the curtains had been ripped off the hooks, chewing gum littered the desk and shelves, and the bulbs had been removed from all the lights. Someone had drawn a cartoon face of a girl on the mirror in marker with elaborate plaits and bows on the end, her eyes Xs, and a dripping bullet hole on her forehead; tampons had been strewn around the place, and slogans had been spray-painted around the room. Go home. Girls don’t belong here. Whore. Bitch. Dyke. Lezzer. Lesbo.
Kelly closed her eyes, wondered what the obsession was with her sexual orientation, took a deep breath- and instantly regretted it. Her nose perhaps addled by the stale smells of the plane, she hadn’t immediately noticed it, but... she looked down, and sure enough, there was a damp patch on the floor, and the sharp sweet smell of urine.
Nice.
The door had not swung shut behind her, and Kelly knew without looking round – it was so easy, their breathing so noisy, their stifled giggles too loud – that the boys were listening, waiting for her to react.
“Everyone is just as welcoming as I thought they would be,” she said loudly, and turned abruptly, hauling the door open and pushing her way through the crowd, stone-faced. They tried to jostle her and get in her way, but not for nothing did Kelly have more brothers and sisters than she could shake a stick at, and she was carrying a heavy bag, which she put to good use to plaster a few of them into the walls. She hoped they remembered it.
Eventually, she reached her father, standing at the bottom of the stairs looking gently anxious. He glanced at her, and frowned. “Kelly? Kelly, what’s the matter?”
“I think we should talk to the Matron,” Kelly said evenly. “And possibly the Housemaster. Somebody has made a mess of my room.”
Rating: PG-13
Length: 607 words
Summary: Kelly’s room at King’s School Corus leaves something to be desired.
Author’s Notes: In the same AU as Plane and Simple.
Please be warned that there is a certain amount of rather offensive language in this. It is not language I would ever use, but a bunch of teenage boys with an eye to insulting a girl certainly would.
****
“Would you like some help with your suitcases, Kelly?” Piers Milton asked, looking at the winding staircase up to Kelly’s dorm and devoutly hoping that she wouldn’t.
Kelly, being fully aware of her father’s back issues – along with her mother, all her brothers and sisters, her uncles, aunts and cousins, the Deputy Ambassador, the Deputy Ambassador’s wife, and almost the entirety of the Tortallan Embassy – shook her head. “If you just wait with the cases I can get them upstairs one at a time.”
She chose a bag, hefted it, and began to forge her way up the narrow staircase and through equally narrow corridors: luckily she had a head for directions and a decent idea of where she was going, or she’d never have got anywhere. Up a staircase, along a corridor, up another staircase, and to the left...
As she walked, eyes front, the bag’s handles cutting into her hands, she heard the whispers and sniggers and the sharp bangs of doors as boys peering through them shut them abruptly. She caught glimpses of uniform jackets and askew ties, flashes of blond and dark and gingery hair, and pretended she hadn’t.
Eventually she reached the door to a tiny room, squashed into a corner of the building: one of only a very few single rooms in the entire building. It had her name on it, on a printed card, and the door was ajar.
Gently, very gently, Kelly pushed open the door. It swung open at her touch. Checking the floor and ceiling for booby traps, she stepped inside, and looked around, and her heart sank at what she saw. The room had been entirely trashed: the bed was covered in some kind of stuff Kelly didn’t want to think about, the curtains had been ripped off the hooks, chewing gum littered the desk and shelves, and the bulbs had been removed from all the lights. Someone had drawn a cartoon face of a girl on the mirror in marker with elaborate plaits and bows on the end, her eyes Xs, and a dripping bullet hole on her forehead; tampons had been strewn around the place, and slogans had been spray-painted around the room. Go home. Girls don’t belong here. Whore. Bitch. Dyke. Lezzer. Lesbo.
Kelly closed her eyes, wondered what the obsession was with her sexual orientation, took a deep breath- and instantly regretted it. Her nose perhaps addled by the stale smells of the plane, she hadn’t immediately noticed it, but... she looked down, and sure enough, there was a damp patch on the floor, and the sharp sweet smell of urine.
Nice.
The door had not swung shut behind her, and Kelly knew without looking round – it was so easy, their breathing so noisy, their stifled giggles too loud – that the boys were listening, waiting for her to react.
“Everyone is just as welcoming as I thought they would be,” she said loudly, and turned abruptly, hauling the door open and pushing her way through the crowd, stone-faced. They tried to jostle her and get in her way, but not for nothing did Kelly have more brothers and sisters than she could shake a stick at, and she was carrying a heavy bag, which she put to good use to plaster a few of them into the walls. She hoped they remembered it.
Eventually, she reached her father, standing at the bottom of the stairs looking gently anxious. He glanced at her, and frowned. “Kelly? Kelly, what’s the matter?”
“I think we should talk to the Matron,” Kelly said evenly. “And possibly the Housemaster. Somebody has made a mess of my room.”