Starting here wasn’t easy for me, yet Dunbridge Academy has been the only constant in my life. A place that’s always there, never changing when I come back after the holidays. Familiar faces, friends who speak my language.
At that moment, I remember Emma and feel kind of guilty. Because I know what it’s like to be new and feel lost and overwhelmed. I’d wanted to keep an eye out for her, but what am I doing instead?
Exactly what Ishouldbe doing. I haven’t seen my girlfriend for weeks, and I’m going around to her house.
Emma
The Dunbridge Academy courtyard is buzzing. There are huge Land Rovers, dark four-by-fours, and estate cars everywhere, and parents are heaving travel bags and suitcases out of the trunks while pupils greet one another excitedly. Some are already in uniform, but most are still wearing their everyday clothes.
I lost sight of Henry ages ago. As soon as we got out of the bus, loads of people came to say hello to him and Grace. They seem to know everyone here. Unlike me. But I don’t want to cling to them like a limpet.
“Hello, you must be new.”
I turn my head and look into the freckled face of a girl about my age. Her long copper-red hair is done up in a neat plait that falls over her shoulder. “Hi, I’m Tori. I’m in the lower sixth and I’m on the lookout for new people.”
My heart leaps. Lower sixth, same as me.
“I’m Emma,” I introduce myself. Tori must be able to hear my relief, because she smiles reassuringly at me before we shake hands. She’s wearing a polo shirt with the school crest embroidered on the left-hand side. Beneath it, there’s a name badge.
“Nice to meet you, Emma. Welcome to Dunbridge.”
I think this is the moment when the last part of me that hadn’t been completely sure finally grasps that this is real. Before I’ve worked out whether this is a good or bad thing, Tori’s talking again.
“Can I help you with your luggage? What year are you in? I’ll introduce you to your houseparent.”
“Lower sixth.” I gulp. “I’m on a year abroad.”
“Oh, cool! We’re the same year, then. I’ll take you over.” Tori looks at my suitcases. “Did you come on your own?”
I nod with a tense smile. “My mum was going to bring me, but it didn’t work out.”
“Oh, right.”
“It’s fine,” I say, kind of without wanting to. But Ireallydon’t want to start out with everyone feeling sorry for me.
“Well, you’re here now,” says Tori, cheerfully, reaching for one of my cases. “Come on.”
I follow her through the arcades that link the former church at the heart of the school with the long buildings that entirely enclose the campus. Tori keeps to the left, and eventually, we reach a curved staircase in smooth stone. Pupils are darting to and fro, some in little groups, others with their parents. Tori’s always waving to someone. She seems to know so many people.
“Later on, I’ll show you around properly, in peace, if you like. I started here in the junior school, and I know the place like the back of my hand.” She points in the direction we’d come. “The old church is now the dining room, and over there are the classrooms in the south wing. The girls’ dorms are here in the west wing and the boys are over in the east. Once you get to the third form, there’s a floor per year, while all the juniors, first- and second-formers, sleep in the north wing.” Tori stops at the foot of the stairs. “I’ve got good news and bad news for you. Good news first: We get a great view from our rooms—they’re up at the top. Only the upper sixth do better from right under the roof. The bad part is, there’s no lift.”
“Oh,” I say as she reaches for my luggage. “You don’t have to. I mean, I can easily come back down again...”
Tori raises her eyebrows disapprovingly. “Hey! Of course I’m going to help you. You’re family now.”
She grins, and I feel like I’m going to burst into tears. It doesn’t sound like she’s just saying it, especially when I remember how warmly she greeted everyone just now.
“We’ll just ask Ms.Barnett which room you’re in.” Tori’s slightly out of breath as she climbs the worn stone steps with the smaller of my cases. “She’s in charge of the third floor and the person to go to if you have any worries.”
“My houseparent, then?” I guess. The rapid footsteps of a group of younger girls we meet on the stairs echo off the unplastered walls.
“You learn fast.” Tori points down the second-floor corridor. “Third form on the first floor, fourth form on the second, and so on.”
I glance through one of the lattice windows on the staircase. From here, you can see right into another courtyard, behind the church this time. There’s a lawn crisscrossed by cobbled paths along which pupils are hurrying from here to there and back again.
All the Dunbridge buildings are grouped around the two courtyards. If this is the west wing, the boys’ dorms must be on the other side of the archway and the broad bridge that brings you into the school grounds from the road. Henry’s wing. Not that that matters to me in any way.
My knees are wobbly by the time we reach the third floor an eternity later. The higher we climb, the quieter it gets. On the lower floors, shouts and laughter are coming from the younger pupils’ rooms, but things are clearly much more civilized up here among the sixth-formers. I can’t help noticing the awestruck way that Tori glances at the two girls just coming down the stairs from the very top. They must be in the upper sixth, and unlike the younger kids, they seem totally unfazed by the chaos. All the same, they give Tori and me friendly nods as they pass.
