Teaching Love

Kristina's escape from reality was writing. Getting accepted into a prestigious high school for talented writers in England at age 16? No big deal. Her over-protective parents deciding to continue living their normal lives "across the pond" back in America? BIG deal. For Kristina, it was like finally being able to break free, to feel like it was HER life, not someone else's. She was tired of always being the good little girl.


1. Northridge High

   Kristina' POV

   I gazed out the window, my chin resting in my hand. I took in the beautiful foliage, all the trees beginning to turn colour from green to brilliant shades of oranges and yellows, reds and purples. I smiled, letting my eyes flutter shut, while I felt every bump the bus rode over, and letting the golden sunlight pour into the bus. I was really enjoying this moment of bliss, as the bus I was riding directed itself towards my new boarding school, Northridge High, until my phone started to buzz. I dug through my purse until my cell was discovered. I glanced down at it. A text from my over-protective mother, of course. I groaned inwardly, and sent a quick reply back, consisting of a few yeses and oks, and finishing it off with an I'm fine. 


   The bus rolled to a stop, the gravel driveway crunching under my feet as I stepped off. I soaked up the landscape- beautifully green grass that stopped abruptly and gave way to a sharp cliff, where the foamy waves of the Atlantic crashed down below. It was a little frightening, such a long drop. Hopefully I would get used to it.

   Returning students from last year walked around the carefully manicured lawn, talking and laughing. Old friends hugged and greeted one another, and teachers nodded acknowledgement towards each other. I slung my bag over my shoulder and started walking towards the dorms. The air smelled of sea salt, and it gave everything a sharp edge.

    As I walked into the girl's dorm lobby, two girls, one blonde and the other African-American, with cute short and curly hair, stepped off the elevator. The blonde walked up to me and stuck out her hand. "Olivia Draven."

   I smiled and shook her outstretched hand. "Kristina."

   "The Headmaster sent us to show you around. We're your roomates, too." The other girl said. "My name's Demi Shots, by the way." 

   Both Olivia and Demi had very beautiful English accents. "Well, it's really nice to meet you both," I said.

   Demi smiled. "You too." Then she waved me and Olivia towards the elevator. "Come on, I gotta show you our room."


   Our room, room 7 on the fifth floor, was big and beautiful. My amazement must've been visible, because Olivia piped up, with "All the rooms are exactly like this one."

   "Wow," I whispered.

   Two of the beds already had clothes strewn across them, and had taken on a lived-in look. The third bed, the one closest to the window, was still perfectly made. My bed, I assumed.

   I walked over to the window, brushing my hand against the cool, white-painted wood. The view was gorgeous, capturing the cliff and the Atlantic.

   "I have gotten so many ideas for my writing in the past, just gazing out this window," Demi breathed.

   I nodded, understanding. "It's truly beautiful." I paused, then asked, "But isn't it just slightly dangerous that there isn't a barrier between-."

   "Us and the ocean?" Olivia interupted.


   "That's the truly beautiful thing about it, Kristina. It lets us, this entire school of writers and artists, be free. No barriers. That was, and is, whole idea." Olivia finished.

   I shrugged. "Alright, I guess."

   Demi grabbed her jacket. "Come on, it's almost dinner. I think it's Taco Night in the cafeteria!" Olivia giggled, and we both grabbed out jackets, too, and headed out.


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