"No!" I scream, pulling with all my might against my father's arms. "I don't want to go to an all girls' school!"

"Christina, come on now sweetie, it won't be so bad." Sure, easy for him to say. He didn't have to go spend the next nine months trapped in Podunkville, USA with forty rich-bitch lesbo freaks. I didn't want to go. I had found out only a week before that I was going, when my father and his new wife who was three years older than me sprung it on me.

"Christina," he had said. "Angie and I have decided that Freedmont High just isn't the right place for you anymore. There's a fabulous school in Longview, Montana called Rosewood Academy that we think would be perfect for you. It's old-fashioned, uniforms, all girls. They'll provide a more rigorous academic schedule for you than you could get at Freedmont and they'll teach you basic life skills like sewing and cooking, even dancing and how to be a good hostess." He and Angie sat there looking at me while I stared at them in horror and disbelief.

"You're sending me to a fucking finishing school?" I finally managed to say.

"Watch your mouth, young lady," Angie snapped. I glared at her over my plate of broiled chicken and whole grain rice, her "special diet" that we all had to be on. "Rosewood is a wonderful school. It'll help you become refined and provide you with manners that you need dearly." She glanced at my clothes with disgust written clearly in her eyes. Angie liked pink, pastels, silk, neatness, sunlight, and, above all, not me. Like tonight, I was wearing my favorite black fishnet top underneath a black tee shirt that said Joy Ride, the name of a local band I liked, and a short black skirt with a black belt, black fishnets, and mid-calf chunky black boots. Black's my favorite color.

I live in my room where music is always playing, the walls are covered in posters of bands I like and copies of Salvador Dali's paintings, and the shades are always down. I even keep blackout cloth over the windows to minimize sunlight. I love to read, mostly vampire books (I adore Amelia Atwater-Rhodes), but I really like classics and Shakespeare. In fact, and I would never tell Angie this, I really like Britney Spears' early music. I own her first two CDs, some Spice Girls CDs, even a Hilary Duff CD. Of course I only listen to them on headphones or when Angie isn't home (I wouldn't want to ruin her opinion of me), but I do like them. But anyway, back to where my father is literally dragging me to the car.

"I'm not going!" I scream. Angie had packed my things, not that I needed much, we would buy my uniforms there, but she packed my clothes and books and pictures and stuff. Thankfully my dad made her pack stuff I like and would wear, because he knows I would actually go naked before I would wear some of the vomit-inducing clothes she had bought me. My father, I should mention, if a foreman for a construction company and could probably beat up Arnold Swartznegger, so I didn't stand a chance of staying if he was dragging me the car, but at least I could say I put up a fight. He managed to get me buckled and locked in (childproof locks). Angie had already started the car and was sitting serenely in the passenger's seat. I was tempted to throw something at her, but I didn't have anything to throw.

I decided to stop screaming, I could tell my dad was about to snap, so I sat and glared out the window, refusing to look at them or say anything. Yes, I know that's childish behavior, but damn it, it was all I could do. My senior year of high school and they decide to pull me out of the school I've been going to for three years, where all my friends go, and send me to a boarding school in another time zone, forget just another state. I had already been informed that my father and Angie were going to be taking a tour of Europe during my winter holiday, so I would be staying at Rosewood instead of coming home. Not that it mattered anymore. I didn't want to see my father anymore than I wanted to see Angie. It was going to take us about twelve hours to get to Rosewood Academy where I would immediately be set up in my room with my roommate. Dad and Angie would stay in one of the guesthouses overnight, then head back home early the next morning. I sat back and turned on my CD player. I had Kittie in because the music just seemed very appropriate for the occasion.

"Okay, Christina, lunch break." My father was trying to be cheerful. I opened my eyes, having dozed off, to see a tiny diner/gas station in the middle of nowhere as the stop. I groaned and got out of the car, stretching my legs and heading inside. Maybe I'll get food poisoning or something, I thought. They'd probably still send me to the boarding school. I used the bathroom when I got in the building and came out to find to them sitting at a table, leaning over the menus, whispering to each other. I cleared my throat loudly as I came up and they separated quickly. My dad wouldn't meet my eyes. So they were talking about me. Fine, that's fine. I'd be out of their hair soon enough anyway. Why shouldn't they talk about me? They'd probably have forgotten me by this time tomorrow anyway.

"So, this is cute," Angie said, trying to lure me into conversation. I merely glared at her over my menu. I swear it said, "Raccoon stew" as the special of the day. I decided to go with a cheeseburger, figuring that would be similar to the cheeseburgers we had at home.

"You know, Christina, this would be a lot easier if you just accepted that you're going to Rosewood and stopped being such a bitch about it." Angie said casually sipping a glass of iced tea.

"Excuse me?" I sputtered. Did she just call me a bitch?

"You heard me. You're going whether you like it or not and you're putting your father through a lot of guilt with this attitude of yours. This is going to be a very refining experience for you and rid you of your horrible taste in clothes and your egocentric attitude." I remember being mildly surprised she even knew the word egocentric, but at the time all I could think of was how much I would love to choke her. Unfortunately all I could do was wish her painful deaths and play them out in my mind. I knew getting pissed would only make her happy and killing her would put me in jail, which I assumed had to be worse than boarding school. So I sat there, fuming, as the waitress brought me my cheeseburger and fries. They were actually pretty good, so I enjoyed what would probably be my last fried food for a while (I assumed this school would have some kind of diet if Angie liked it so much).

When we had paid, we got back in the car and I pulled out my journal. I used it as a way to vent, to work out problems, write poems, that kind of thing. Right now I needed to find an outlet for my anger towards Angie. I opened to the page I had written on last and found a note written in writing other than my own.

Christina, I was reading your journal and have to say I was disturbed at all the violence I found in it. I've informed Headmistress Cassandra at Rosewood that you are to see a counselor regularly. I've copied your journal and submitted it to the counselor for her inspection. Also, since you so sorely lack life skills, I made sure that they didn't give you the classic literature class that is standard for seniors and you've been given History and Practice of Sewing instead. Enjoy your year. Angie P.S. Come graduation time you'll be getting a little sibling.

A counselor? She read my journal? Sewing instead of classic literature? A new sibling? How typical of Angie, to take away what should have been a time focused on me because of my high school graduation by having a baby.

"Dad!" I screamed. I could see the corners of her mouth curl up as she saw the effect her words had on me. "Dad! Angie read my journal! And why didn't you tell me you were having a baby?!"

"Angie said she wanted to tell you," he said, apparently shocked that I would find this a bad thing. "And I'm sure Angie didn't read your journal."

"Yes, she did!"

"I did read her journal, Richard. I was worried that she was engaging in reckless behavior. You may be interested to know that she and that ex-boyfriend of hers, Steven, were having sex. Isn't that right, Christina?" She smiled at me, that catty look she got when she had me cornered.

"What?!" my father exploded. "You were having sex, Christina? How could you? You know I wanted you to wait until you were married!"

"You fucking bitch!" I screamed and launched myself at Angie. I didn't care if she was pregnant or not, she had no right to say that shit. The truth was Steven and I hadn't ever had sex, I was a virgin, but my father would never believe me if I denied it now. Thankfully we were the only ones on the road, otherwise we would have been in trouble with how much my father swerved then. He pulled over and opened the passenger side door. Angie and I tumbled out, scratching and pulling each other's hair. I was winning when my dad pulled me off her and slapped me. Hard.

"Don't you ever hit your mother!" he yelled.

"She's not my mother!" I screamed. "She's a little bitch that married you because everyone else could see what a skank she is and didn't want anything to do with her. And she's trying to get rid of me because she wants you to forget you have a daughter. Hell, she's three years older than I am. You could be her fucking father! But you're not. You're my father and you're supposed to side with me!" Angie was standing up behind my father, smoothing her clothes and hair. My father was shaking with anger, and to make him even angrier with me, she decided to put on an act.

"Oh my god, the baby! Richard, what if she hurt the baby?!" She burst into fake tears and my father turned around to comfort her. Before I could point out that a fall couldn't cause a miscarriage in the first trimester (I had just finished reading What to Expect When You're Expecting), he had turned back to me with Hell burning in his eyes.

"See what you've done? How could you? Get back in that car, shut up, and don't even look at Angie for the rest of the trip, or by God, I swear, I'll be sending you to military school!" I stared at him open mouthed, but I got in the car, hiding behind my headphones as my ex-father comforted his new family. Finally they climbed back into the car, my ex-father insisting that Angie take it easy (since this trip had been so taxing on her) and we were off again. Angie shot me a smug look in the mirror and I stared out the window. When we finally reached the sign for Rosewood Academy I was glad to see it.

In truth, the school was beautiful on the outside. We came down a long driveway, passing a large pond on the left and small woods on the right. The school was very large old farmhouse with a few attachments, but they blended well with the original architecture. To the left of the house and set off a little were three or four guesthouses for parents or other visitors. We stopped outside of the house and opened the trunk. I took one of my suitcases and a duffel bag and my ex-father took the other two suitcases, insisting that Angie shouldn't carry one in her delicate condition. I kept my laughter to myself.

A woman I assumed was the Headmistress came out to meet us. She was a little on the shorter side, maybe 5'5", slightly overweight, but not hideous. She carried herself in a way that made you believe she weighed more than she appeared to, but she was so confident she came off as incredibly attractive anyway. She had brown hair and blue eyes that seemed to smile even when she wasn't smiling.

"Hello, I'm Cassandra Greene, the Headmistress." She came and shook my hand first, then my ex-fathers. She went to shake Angie's hand, but hesitated before doing so. In fact, it seemed she almost had to force herself to touch Angie. That was odd; most people like Angie right away. "You must be the Richardson's. Come on in." She turned back to the house and walked in. She called for someone named Jennifer when she got in and another woman, slightly older than her, came to the door. She grabbed the suitcase I was carrying and brought it into a room that I would have called a parlor. My ex-father, whom I will call Richard from now on, came in behind me, followed by Angie. The Headmistress sat down on a settee, the new woman sat next to her. I sat in an armchair and Richard and Angie cuddled on a sofa. It made me sick to see them. I turned my attention to the Headmistress and new woman.

"This is Jennifer," Headmistress Cassandra said. "Jennifer, this is Christina Richardson, her father Richard, and his wife Angie." Jennifer smiled warmly at me, nodded at Richard, and seemed to have the same reaction towards Angie that Cassandra had had.

"Well, welcome, Christina, we're glad you've chosen to come here. Your records were very impressive." Jennifer said.

"I did not choose to come here. I found out two weeks ago that I was transferring here." I glared at Richard and Angie, but they were too wrapped up in each other to notice.

"Well," Headmistress Cassandra said, "Richard and Angie have seen brochures, so they know how the school works, but I'm sure you would like to see your room. Jennifer and I will happy to take you to it. Let me just ring for one of the girls to show your parents to their lodgings."

"They're not my parents," I muttered under my breath as Cassandra pressed a button next to the chair, which I assumed was for an intercom system. She and Jennifer both heard me, but Richard and Angie didn't.

"I'm so tired," Angie said dramatically, yawning. "I would be very grateful for a chance for a nap before dinner." She shot Cassandra and Jennifer her I-always-get-my-way smile. Cassandra smiled back warmly, but the smile was gone from her eyes.

"Of course," she said. A girl appeared at the doorway in a uniform and curtsied. The Headmistress gestured to the girl and said, "Stephanie here will show you to Guesthouse #2 and you're free to have dinner whenever you wish. There are a couple of diners within half an hour of here." She shot Angie a smile that said you-may-always-get-your-way-but-not-on-my-campus.

"What?" Richard said. "I assumed we would be eating here."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Jennifer said. "But it's against policy for us to have anyone but students eat here. The policy is if you don't work for it, you don't eat it and it's not fair to make a guest work." I sat there in shock at the warm, friendly battle going on around me. It was quite obvious that neither the Headmistress of Jennifer liked Angie. "Now, Stephanie, please show our guests to guesthouse #2. Christina, please come with us and bring whatever bags you can manage. You can come back down for the rest when you've seen your room." She and Cassandra rose together. Richard and Angie stumbled to their feet, still surprised at the fact that they lost a battle, and followed Stephanie out of the house. I stood up and was collecting my duffel bag and a suitcase when I heard the door shut behind them.

Both Cassandra and Jennifer exhaled loudly and relaxed their metal-rod posture when Richard and Angie were gone.

"Here," Jennifer said, "let us help you with those." She grabbed one suitcase and Cassandra took the other, letting me take what I already had.

"Th-thanks, but I thought I was supposed to carry it…"

"Oh it's not a problem. We're not here to make your life hell. You do learn what the brochures say you'll learn and you do have to work for your food and keep, but that doesn't mean you can't have any fun. Plus we try to teach our girls to help each other, not only themselves and how can we teach something we don't practice ourselves?" They led me out of the parlor and to a flight of stairs in the hallway. They struggled up the stairs with me and rolled my suitcases down a hallway at the top of the stairs. There we came to another flight of stairs and up we went again. When we got to the top there was a landing and three doors, one on the left, one on the right, and one in the middle. They knocked on the door on the left and a girl inside answered.

Cassandra opened the door and led me into a room with a low ceiling, two beds, two desks, two dressers, two trunks, and two wardrobes. The room was actually pretty large with a beautiful bay window seat in the middle of the opposite wall. The source of the voice was a gorgeous girl sitting on the bed with books surrounding her. She was on her feet as soon as she saw Headmistress Cassandra. The Headmistress nodded at her and the girl came over to help with the suitcases.

"Marla, this is Christina, your new roommate." Jennifer said.

Marla, a leggy redhead with incredibly deep green eyes and a great figure, smiled warmly at me and shook my hand, after I put down my duffel bag.

"Hi, it's great to meet you," she said sincerely. "I'm a senior. What are you?"

"I'm a senior too," I replied.

"Wonderful, we'll have a bunch of classes together then. I've been wanting a roommate. I stayed here this past summer but my old roomie didn't, she graduated and went to Harvard, the little smarty-pants." She giggled musically and I knew I could get really used to that giggle. "So I've been here, all by my lonesome. I'm so glad you're here."

"Well, we have to go downstairs and take care of some paperwork," the Headmistress said. "Christina, we'll need you to come to the office after clean-up to take care of some paperwork. I know you're new, but we try to get all students in the routine right away. As I told your parents," I flinched, "you have to work for your food. You get clean-up duty since you haven't had a chance to make the food. But it's not so bad. Marla has been here ever since the beginning of freshman year, she can answer most questions, if you have any. Dinner's at 6. See you then." Cassandra smiled as she and Jennifer left the room.

I turned to face my new roommate, expecting her true side to show now that the authority figures were gone. Instead I found the same smiling face I had turned my back to. I started unpacking and she went back to her homework, but I could tell she was watching me, as much as she was trying not to. She just seemed to bubble over with curiosity and warmth so I decided to try talking to her.

"So, Marla, what are you reading?" Seemed innocent enough.

"Oh, Atlas Shrugged."

"That book rocks! They make you read that here?" I asked surprised.

"No, I'm reading it for an extra credit book report. Actually, I've read it three times already, but every time I read it I learn something new. Ayn Rand fascinates me. What kind of books do you like?" she asked.

"I love vampire novels, but I'm into classics, especially Jack London and Shakespeare, but I have trouble reading Dickens. It's just so dry that I can't get through it."

"I'm not into many of the classics, but I like London too. I like romance novels and vampire novels too," Marla said. "Do you want to see my books? I left most of my clothes at home and pictures and stuff, but I insisted on bringing every book and CD I own." She laughed at herself as she opened her trunk to reveal every Anne Rice book written, a Jack London anthology, Emily Dickinson's Complete Poems, all the Amelia Atwater-Rhodes books, a bunch of Lurlene McDaniel books, a complete collection of William Shakespeare's plays and poems, most of the Ann Rinaldi books, and various other novels that I loved, including Ayn Rand's books. I looked in the trunk like I had just found a pot of gold. I ran my fingers lightly over the spines, all alphabetized, and knew I would like this girl.

"Wow," I whispered. "You are my kind of girl."

"I was hoping you would say that," she whispered back. "Because you are definitely my kind of girl." She looked at me with something else behind her eyes than the friendly warmth I had noticed before, but before I could ask what she meant she had stood up, brushing off her knees. "I should get back to my homework. You're welcome to look through my stuff and you're free to borrow whatever you want, just ask first. I would recommend that you start unpacking though, because you may not have a lot of time or energy later tonight. The first few days can be kind of rough if you're not used to heavy work loads, but you get used to it."

She climbed back on her bed, crossing her legs. Before she took her book into her lap though I couldn't help but notice that she wasn't wearing any panties under her skirt and for some reason I was glad. I shook my head and got up, closing the trunk. I started putting my clothes away and made a mental note to ask the Headmistress about uniforms after dinner. I had finished putting my few clothes away and setting up my toiletry bucket when I heard a bell clang downstairs.

Marla quickly marked her page and clambered off the bed. "That's the dinner bell," she explained. "It means you have five minutes to get to the dinner table. Cassie doesn't like it if you're late."

"Cassie?" I asked as I followed Marla out of the room, making sure to shut the door firmly behind me.

"Oh, right, Headmistress Cassandra. Everyone just calls her Cassie, unless parents or other important people are around. And Jennifer, her lover, goes by Jennifer until she tells you that you can call her Jen."

"Her lover?" I sputtered. We were halfway down the second set of stairs and encountering some traffic with all the girls leaving their rooms to come to dinner.

Marla laughed again, that beautiful musical laugh, and nodded. "Mm hmm. They both teach too and they don't publicize the fact that they're 'married' but they are. They share a room on the second floor. They tend to be pretty discreet, they know not everyone likes to see lesbians together, but the girls who room next to them say that they can sometimes hear them having sex." I absorbed this information as we filed into the dining room. Everyone seemed to stop talking when they entered the dining room, so it was perfectly silent and everyone stood behind their chair. I took a chair next to Marla and followed her lead.

Cassie and Jennifer both walked in and nodded. All the girls said together, "Good evening, Headmistress," and a smile played on Cassie's lips. She walked to the head of the table, with Jennifer taking the foot, and she responded, "Good evening, ladies. You may sit." Everyone pulled their chairs out, apparently trying not to scrap the floor, and sat down, putting their napkins in their laps.

"Everyone please bow yours heads as we have a moment of silence. You may use this time to thank your God for providing this food or you may use this time to enjoy the aroma of the food." Everyone was silent for about thirty seconds until Cassie's head rose and she said, "Thank you. You may eat."

I was starving, but I watched everyone else and no one seemed to be rushing to get food. Everyone passed the food to the left. I mimicked Marla and caught more than one approving glance from the Headmistress as I politely ate my dinner of meatloaf, green beans, and mashed potatoes. When everyone had finished, Cassie rang a little bell by her water glass and all conversation stopped.

"Ladies, welcome to a new year and welcome to the new students. Each new student has been roomed with veteran Rosewood girl. Follow their example and you should catch on to routine her quickly. Students who have been informed that they are on clean-up crew tonight may file into the kitchen when we have dismissed and students who are on preparation crew are to report to the kitchen at 7:30. Let's all thank the students who made dinner tonight, it was delicious." There was light applause around the table as several girls, the ones who made dinner I assume, smiled broadly. "All new students, please make sure to report to me when I have asked you to or else you will have nothing to wear to the classes you won't know you have tomorrow. Are there any announcements tonight?" The Headmistress looked around the table and saw one hand raised. "Yes, Allie?"

A short blonde stood up and addressed her comment to the entire table. "The Welcome Committee has organized a light afternoon tea tomorrow in the gazebo at 3:30pm. We would like all new students to attend and any veterans are welcome to come as well, though priority will be give to the new girls. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask tomorrow and if you need any more information about the tea, you may see me or Vinnie there next to Jen." A dark haired girl next to Jennifer waved. "Thank you." Allie sat back down and Cassie took over again.

"Anyone else? All right then. Everyone is dismissed." All the girls rose together, mostly silently, and I headed into the kitchen with Marla and the other new girls. When we got in the kitchen, Marla was in charge.

"Okay, everyone, I'm here to help and supervise as you all clear up after dinner. Our job if you clear the table, put away leftovers, scrape plates, and wash all the dishes." A girl next to me raised her hand. "Yes, by hand. Now, Christina and Michelle, you both will bring the dishes in from the table and scrape off the plates. Hand the leftovers to Rachael who'll put them in Tupperware and put them in the fridge. Dishes will go to Lois and Melissa who'll wash them. When your particular task is done, see me, I'll have something else for you to do. I'll be drying dishes." Marla started to walk away, then turned back towards us. "And please don't break any dishes. Any questions?" No one had questions. "Great. Hop to it then."

I went back into the dining room and worked with Michelle (a very quiet girl) to clear the table. It went quickly and soon I was drying dishes with Christina, comparing CD collections. When we were all done cleaning, Christina told us "Good job" then went upstairs. I went to the office, as Cassie had told me to do, and saw the door to her office partially open. I went to go see if she was there and was shocked at what I saw. The Headmistress was sitting on her desk holding Jennifer's face in her hands doing what can only be called making out. I tiptoed away from the door and went back into the hallway, kocking on the outer door this time and calling the Headmistress' name. I could hear some noise in her office, I assume her hopping off the desk and checking her lipstick, and she said, "Come in." She was sitting in her chair and Jennifer was sitting in a chair across from the next, next to an empty one for me. Cassie motioned for me to sit down and handed me my schedule for the semester.