Masquerade - Cover

Masquerade

Copyright© 2006 by Moghal

Chapter 3

Friday, September 3rd

First day at a new school — helluva strange place? All these spoilt little English kids with their blazers and 'football'. I tried telling some of them that soccer's a girl's game back home, but they thought I was joking. I hate this place already. I want to be back in Geneva, skiing, eating real food, out with real friends in the evening.

Who the hell starts back to school on a Friday for god's sake, anyway? What's the point of that? By the time Monday comes I'll have forgotten everyone, and have to go through it all again. Well, that's not quite true, a couple of them stood out. Two freaks in masks, twins apparently, though he looks like he's been eating his sister's food for her since they were in diapers. Not easy to forget them...

Marcus was sweet, he might have some potential. Not much of a looker, but he's built well — looks nice from the back J I'll have to write Nicole and tell here, she's always keen on tight buns. Difficult to tell much about anyone, really — we all have to wear the same clothes — never in the field of human endeavor have so many owed so much to accessories!!!

So Marcus took me round with some of his little 'gang' — the usual. Two muscle-headed jocks for backup, and a snot-nosed little runt runner they called Turd — he deserved it. Seems like Marcus is the big man on campus — his was the only car in the yard, and it wasn't a bad one either. They all have weird names over here — none of the Fords are the same, and GM stuff's called 'Vauxhall' whatever the hell that means. Some nerd told me Vauxhall's in London — can you imagine GM calling their cars 'Queens'! Or 'Bronx'!

So I start on Monday with science (yawn!!!) and history (dullsville), but at least I get to see the IT suite in the afternoon. We're the first ones in there, apparently. Just been kitted out over the vacation, so... There's hope, but not much.

Weekend tomorrow, and I don't know any shops, I don't know any people, and the TV here is just bogus... I may actually have to resort to unpacking. I can't believe pop got us all dumped at this little piss-hole village. Everyone knows everyone here, it's gonna be like living in a fishbowl the whole time.

Course, Ellie loves the whole thing — it must be like her own little Nirvana here. The clothes are all out of date, the music's dire, she doesn't watch TV... It's bad-taste heaven, frankly.

Saturday, September 4th

So, the girls' welcoming committee found us today. Someone's pop works at the base, and got talking to my pop, and suddenly there's a porch full of badly dressed girls with snooty voices jabbering about ponies and riding and stuff. Some of them were tolerable, when I managed to split them away from Janice for a while — she's this planet-sized nightmare that seems to have sucked them all into a weird orbit. I can see why the horses she rides are so short, poor shits. Probably got impacted knees...

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