Chapter Three

"Wake up! It's time to wake up! Come on! Wake up!"

"What the?" Jeremy grumbled, rolling over on her uncomfortable mattress that she had mistaken for a log. Chamomile Watson was standing over her, completely made up for the day, prodding her in the ribs with her bony forefinger.

"Come on! If you don't start getting ready now you'll be late for class," Chamomile said, raising her eyebrows as she gave Jeremy a final shove. "Your schedule says you've got maths first and Mr. Iteschi doesn't appreciate lateness."

"What's wrong with you?" Jeremy cried, feeling completely annoyed and frustrated. "How can you be smiling today and acting as if we're good old pals? Are you on stupid pills or something? Do you not remember the mean things I said to you yesterday? I mean, you're not supposed to be THAT daft!"

Chamomile smiled sweetly and sat down on the side of Jeremy's bed while Jeremy cursed herself back beneath her sheets.

"Well, I was mad for a little bit," Chamomile said. "But then I realized that this is how ALL the new girls act when they first arrive here. They're always so furious and annoyed with themselves, so they take it out on everyone else." She paused a minute and laughed. "And I know exactly how that feels."

Jeremy could not believe it. Her final conclusion was that Chamomile was a moron whose only job opportunity in life would be a cheerleader or a manure scooper at your neighborhood stable. So she decided to forever ignore Chamomile and save herself from degrading her IQ completely.

But Chamomile didn't seem to notice as she jumped happily to her feet. "You know," she said as she grabbed her school bag and headed towards the door. "I was serious about that whole getting ready thing. Mr. Iteschi is not a happy man."

At five to eight Jeremy was spooked out of her sleep by the alarming scream of the school bell, only to realize what time it was and jump out of bed in a fervent race to get ready for her first day.

She fell to the floor and immediately began raking through her suitcases, looking for something decent to wear. All that color coding Jeremy's mother had done throughout her meek wardrobe had been a complete waste of time as Jeremy had now begun throwing her neat clothes all over the room. Finally she retired from her frantic shirt and settled on a big black shirt that said, "I throw peanuts at old people" and her old, huge, black pants that she had borrowed off her 26 year-old cousin Christopher, and never given back. After throwing on her clothes in an untidy gesture, Jeremy grabbed her makeup bag and hurried forth to stand before the large mirror above Chamomile's bureau. Her hand shook with anxiety as she tried to draw a neat crease on her eyelid with her eyeliner. Finally she was done, with but a minute to spare!

Remembering at the last second, Jeremy dived back to the floor to search her suitcase for her school papers. A few weeks before she'd arrived at Wesley Price Boarding School for Young Women she'd received a large manila envelope in the mail that was stuffed with every boring piece of information about the school that you could every hope to NOT learn about. Along with all the boring pages of unimportant information there had been a map of all Jeremy's classes. And that is what she was looking for now. Finally, there it was, hidden beneath a stack of Jeremy's socks. She ripped it away from all her other papers and, quickly glancing at the clock to find that she only had a few seconds left to get to class, she sprinted from her room, not remembering if she had closed the door behind herself or not.

Wesley Price's Boarding School was pretty much a huge building just consisting of millions of identical halls and spiraling staircases, and as Jeremy stared down at the map in her hands she felt a migraine coming on.

"How the Hell am I supposed to find Mr. Itsie's class-or whatever the hell his name is?" she asked aloud as she stood on the landing just before a huge case of winding stairs.

"Mr. Iteschi's class?"

Jeremy nearly jumped out of her skin. She whipped around to find herself face to face with a tall girl who looked about seventeen and just as important as Jeremy was rude.

"Erm. Yeah," Jeremy said, feeling a bit small compared to the tall, big-chested girl who was wearing a large badge on her shirt that said, "Desimonia Lee: Senior Editor".

"It's that way," Desimonia said, pointing down the stairs. "On the second floor, in the east hall." She paused a moment, looked at her wrist watch and said, "You'd better hurry. Class started two minutes ago and Mr. Iteschi is not a very sweet man."

"So I've heard," Jeremy grumbled before taking off down the hall, not even bothering to thank Desimonia.

Jeremy almost killed herself thanks to her cousin's stolen pants. They were so big on her that they slid beneath her feet with every step she took, making her race down the stairs a rather dodgy and unpredictable crossing. In fact she was lucky to make it all the way onto the second floor without breaking any bones or tearing any ligaments.

Sadly, the second floor looked unbearably identical to the third and first floor, making Jeremy's head swim even more. How was she ever going to remember any of this? Taking a quick glance at her map, she noted that the math room for ninth graders was room 214, all the way down at the end of the hall. Without another thought Jeremy began sprinting down the corridor, her heavy footsteps echoing against the walls and disturbing all the second floor classes. She was almost there. Just a few more steps.

Jeremy's pant leg slipped beneath the sole of her shoe just as she was taking a step and the binding at the back of her pants split, sending her flying forth to a humiliating crash, right on her face. The sound of her body smacking against the cold parquet of the corridor was almost inaudible it was so loud, and soon, many of the second floor teachers were poking their heads around their classroom doors to see what all the commotion was- including Mr. Iteschi down in room 214.

He was a tall man of Asian decent whose spectacles always appeared to be crooked. When he stomped out of his classroom in an angry attempt, Jeremy knew in an instant that he was Mr. Iteschi; the furrowed brow and the tight sneer made him all too comparable to everyone's warnings.

"And you must be Ms. Schwarts," he said snidely as he stood right before Jeremy, still glued to the floor, and not offering her a hand. "I was wondering when you were going to show up. Now come! You are disrupting everyone's classes and you're wasting my time!"

Jeremy felt as if she'd broken a few ribs as she climbed shakily to her feet, no thanks to Mr. Iteschi who just stood there with his arms folded as he watched her struggle. When she was finally on her feet he didn't wait a moment longer and quickly turned on his heel and marched off to his classroom, expecting Jeremy to follow.

"Come, come!" he cried, waiting by the door and Jeremy slouched painfully towards him. "If you haven't yet noticed, time doesn't stop at start at your command Ms. Schwarts!"

Jeremy limped into the classroom to find a full class of impatient looking girls who all began to giggle as Jeremy was ushered inside.

"Take your seat Ms. Schwarts!" Mr. Iteschi ordered. "And please restrain from further interrupting my class."

Jeremy's peers began to giggle harder.

"Anyway," Mr. Iteschi said clearly, acting as if nothing had happened. "Back to business. As I was saying before we were all so rudely interrupted, welcome back to Math. This trimester we will be working on more algebra."

A few brave girls groaned aloud, the rest just timidly sighed in boredom. Jeremy sat down at an empty seat off to the side of the room, beside a tall, lengthy girl with orange and brown plaits strung down past her shoulders and an eruption of freckles cascaded over her cheeks and nose. In front of Jeremy, eyeing her suspiciously, was a tiny Asian girl with beady eyes magnified behind her enormous lenses. When the girl caught Jeremy looking back at her she ducked her face beneath the back of her chair, only to peek out from behind it a few seconds later.

Great, Jeremy thought sourly, I'm surrounded by freaks.

Deciding to ignore the immature girl sitting before her, Jeremy opened her maths journal to the first page and began to doodle aimlessly. First she drew a picture of a stick figure being hung from the school flag, then she drew another little cartoon of a fly, with enormous glasses that magnified it's beady eyes, being squashed by a thumbtack.

Suddenly, someone to Jeremy's right laughed under their breath, making Jeremy whip her head about in surprise. It was the tall girl with the orange braids.

"I like that one," the girl said in a very heavy accent that wasn't easily distinguishable, as she pointed to the animated fly. "You're drawin' Sprouts there, aye mate?" the girl said, nodding towards the Asian girl. "Well I guess that'll serve her right for always spyin' on newcomers." The girl smiled at Jeremy but when Jeremy only glared in return, the girl added, "Oh sorry not to begin it all with the proper introduction! Gidday mate! I'm Caprice!" The girl extended her long fingered hand as an act of shaking Jeremy's but Jeremy would have no part of it and didn't move.

After a few seconds the girl's extended hand was sharp to leave it's pose as the girl realized that Jeremy wasn't going to be swayed.

"It's all right mate!" the girl said, her face widening into a smile. "I remember how it was on my first day! Straight up from Aussie and not knowing a damn thing about nothing! But don't worry, you make friends real fast here, aye. And in the end, you learn just to ignore all the crap the professors throw at ya'. After all, it is just a boarding school."

Jeremy wanted to bite this new girl. What was it with all these excuses about her just being a nervous new girl? She was not nervous and she was not going to make friends with any of these freaks any time soon. And as for ignoring the teachers? She had aced that test years ago! How the hell did all these people know what she felt anyway?

But instead of clenching her jaws around the Aussie's arm, Jeremy just settled for the easier act of punishment: the cold shoulder. It had worked for her at all of her other schools, so why wouldn't it work here? She turned her head on the Aussie and began to doodle in her journal again, completely ignoring anything anyone said. Maths would be over soon anyway so there would be nothing to worry about.

"MS. SCHWARTS WOULD YOU KINDLY PAY ATTENTION!"

A ruler was smacked against Jeremy's desktop before she went tumbling to the ground yet AGAIN. Mr. Iteschi glared down at her, a vein in his left temple throbbing midst his anger.

"Get up!" he snapped.

For fear that her new teacher would begin kicking her already crippled ribs, Jeremy jumped to her feet.

"Now please proceed to the board and show the class how to solve the problem I just stated!" Mr. Iteschi said, pushing his crooked spectacles up the bridge of his nose.

Jeremy hurried forth, whimpering as she clutched her side. Why was he picking on her? What did she ever do other than come to class late, make a huge racket in the corridor, disrupt his class several times, not pay attention to anything or anyone, and then fall over in her chair and disrupt the class yet again.

When Jeremy reached the chalk board, she fumbled for a moment as not only had she not bothered to hear what the question was but she also had no idea where any chalk was.

Mr. Iteschi cleared his throat loudly from the back of the room, so Jeremy began.

Hmm. Algebra, algebra. What to write for algebra? Using her finger Jeremy began by drawing a pizza, vaguely remembering something to do with a pizza when she'd studied algebra at her last school. But soon, because her hands were sweating like mad, Jeremy's finger slipped and her pizza had a tiny wing. Just to seal the deal Jeremy suddenly found herself drawing another wing, and then beady eyes behind lenses, and presto! A big ugly fly with a thumbtack sticking through it! The class erupted with a sort of nervous laughter, the Aussie's roguish voice rising above all the others. Feeling proud of her most recent accomplishment, Jeremy turned around and smiled at the class, even at Mr. Iteschi.

"Detention, Ms. Schwarts. After seventh period."

Awe crap, her first day at Wesley Price Boarding Prison For Ugly Homeless Men and already she had detention. Jeremy made the lenses on the dead fly crooked, just to show her enthusiasm.