Melody

This story is about a small, blonde haired girl called Melody. She used to live in London but when her dad got a job offer he couldn't refuse they move to a small town called Thertin in the Rockies, America. Melody thinks her life is officially over Thertin was pretty much non-existent it didn't even have a Starbucks and it's nearest shopping centre is forty-six miles away. What she doesn't realise is that a certain boy-band has decided to take a break and thinks Thertin is the perfect location after all it is pretty much non-existent. They want to escape all the paparazzi, the fans, the fame. And lucky enough Melody isn't a fan but can they convince her otherwise?

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7. Chapter 7 - First Day

We walked down the corridor to my first class. My heart was thumping, palms damp. I was not going to mess up. I was so not going to mess up.

   Mr Leigh opened the door.

   'Mr Hunter, here's the new girl

   The teacher looked up from his laptop where he'd been running through some notes on the interactive board. Twenty heads swung in my direction.

   Mr Hunter looked over the top of his half moon glasses at me. 'Melody Jordan?'

   'Yes sir'

   'I'll take it from here, Mr Leigh.'

   The receptionist gave me a reassuring nudge and walked away. 'Keep smiling, Melody.'

   That was so going to happen when I felt like diving for cover under the nearest desk.

   Mr Hunter clicked to the next slide entitled "The American Civil War". 'Take a seat anywhere you like.'

   There was only one free seat that I could see, next to a girl with caramel-toned skin and short black hair that went down to her chin. I smiled as I slid in next to her. She nodded while Mr Hunter passed round a hand-out. When he turned away, she offered her palm for a brief handshake.

   'Olivia Quinn.'

   'Mel.' I replied much preferring that to Melody.

   Mr Hunter clapped his hands to gain our attention. 'Ok, guys, you're the lucky ones that have chosen to study nineteenth centaury American history. However ten years of teaching is for long enough to know that vacation has driven all knowledge from your brains. So let's start with an easy one. Who can tell me when the Civil War started?'  His eyes scanned a class of expert head-duckers and came to land on me.

   Bummer.

   'Miss Jordan?'

   Any American history I had ever known vanished. 'Um... you had a Civil War?'

   The class groaned.

   I guess that meant I really should of known that.

   At lunch, I was grateful that Olivia didn't abandon this clueless Brit despite me dismal performance in class. She offered to show me around the school. Many things I came out with made her laugh-not because I was being funny, but because I was being too English, she said.

  'You related to the Queen or something' Olivia teased.

   Did I really sound that posh? I wondered. I'd always thought I was too London for that.

   We helped ourselves to lunch from the canteen and took our trays into the dining hall. One wall was composed entirely of windows, giving a view of the muddy laying fields and woods beyond. The sun was out, silver-plating the peaks a glistening white.

   'So what was your last school like? Hogwarts? Posh kids wearing black gowns?

   'Um...no.' I choked on a laugh. If Olivia had seen us at lunch at my last comprehensive, she would not be reminded of Hogwarts but of a zoo as two thousand of us tried to fight our way through the cramped dining hall. 'We were more like this.'

   'Great. Then you'll soon feel at home.'

 

 

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