Life is rather fabulous, wouldn’t you agree?

Principal Runson led October through the school, passing by some of the smaller portables just inside the outside wall and back out into the parking lot. October followed the older woman down a cobblestone walkway towards what looked like the residential area. Here the buildings were much older, most likely built in the Victorian ages, judging by their structure. October couldn’t help but marvel at the dark beauty they beheld, the mystery that lingered within the tall windows and ivy-covered bricks.

They stopped at a large, yellow-bricked house that had a bay window nearly overgrown with a giant rosebush planted in front of it. Two square columns with faded white paint held a small portion of the roof above the porch, which was made out of a dark, weathered wood. An ancient tree dominated the right side of the yard, standing out from the forest behind it.

October walked slowly up the steps towards her new home. It squeaked under her weight as she moved, but it was a welcome sound – the noise of a house that was well-loved. Her eyes traced over the outdoor lamp left of the door; it was a near perfect replica of authentic Gothic artistry.

Principal Runson noticed October’s admiring gaze. “You like it?” she asked with a rare smile.

“It’s beautiful.”October said simply. Principal Runson smiled wider, appeased.

They entered the house, into a hallway with a wooden staircase (with the same paneling as the floor) rising to the next floor. To the left was what October thought to be the living room. She peered in.

Inside it was cozy and styled similarly to the building’s era, but it was obvious that the furniture had been purchased recently. The paintings on the walls were the only hints of an earlier making, a few seemed to be at least a century old. The walls were again wallpapered, this time a dark red. A massive fireplace that looked as though it hadn’t been touched in decades dominated the closer right corner.

“That is your common room.” Principal Runson said curtly, and led October up the stairs. At the landing, five doors stood out from the walls, but the hallway was vacant besides them. “The door on your very right is the bathroom. Your room will be here, on the left, and you will be sleeping in this room on the left. Your roommate is Azala, and I trust you will find her quite, erm, accommodative.”

Azala. Why did that name sound familiar? October scratched her head absentmindedly, wondering where she would’ve heard a name as bizarre as that before. Principal Runson rapped on the door with her knuckles smartly, and after a long moment, the door opened.

The girl standing in the threshold was a little shorter than average height. She was thin and pale, and her hair stood out shockingly against her face. It was a dark chestnut, nearly black, and shoulder-length. Her hair was straight and pulled back into a half ponytail, but strands had escaped and framed her face in a charming way. She had vivid, deep-blue eyes, again another shocking contrast. A thick frame of long black lashes surrounded them, and her jet black eyebrows were raised in a way that October thought seemed challenging. She had small but full lips that were painted a deep red. Again October was struck with a sense of unplaced familiarity.

“Can I help you?” the girl asked in a condescending tone. Her voice was a little rough, and husky.

“Yes, Azala, this is your new roommate, October Peters. She will be staying with you for the remainder of the year.” Principal Runson said in an authoritative voice. Clearly, this girl was not a model student. Perhaps one associated with what the English teacher was speaking of earlier? October felt a stab of nervousness.

Azala’s eyes traveled to October, who had a sense that she was being sized up. When their eyes met, October could catch every emotion that the girl was feeling across her face, as if she had difficulty keeping them concealed. First, intense surprise, as she took in October’s appearance. What was so shocking, October didn’t know. Then, a flit of smug happiness, as if she was pleased with her, and finally chagrin as she seemed to fully realize that she would have to share her room.

“Hi.” October said as the silence began to grow uncomfortable.

“Hello.” Azala replied, her face now contempt. “Thanks, Principal R. I think I can manage it from here.”

Principal Runson replied with a doubtful look, but otherwise said nothing. She whisked away with a sharp clack of her heels.

October stood in the doorway awkwardly, not sure of what to do. Azala turned away and flounced onto her bed. After a moment she looked at October again with a confused look on her face. “Well? Were you going to come in?” she asked.

Now feeling very foolish, October shuffled into the room, dragging her suitcase behind her. Her room was much the same as everywhere else on the campus, Victorian-styled and comforting. The walls were painted a pale cream. A big window overlooked the pathway that led back to the school, and the other residential houses on the street.

“You can have that bed.” Azala pointed to the bed by the window, and sat back down on the other. It was unmade, and the floor around it was dotted with shoes and homework. There was a small alarm clock on the little nightstand in between the beds. A few t-shirts were draped over furniture, and a black bag was hanging from a desk chair. There were no pictures anywhere.

“Uh, thanks.” October said, and sat down as well. They sat together in silence for a few moments, and then Azala asked, “So, where are you from?”

“Um, I lived with a bunch of foster families, usually in Dryder, and I was back at the centre last week so I could get my stuff together and come here. Now that I’m fifteen they think I’m too old to be seriously considered for permanent adoption, so they sent me here.” October paused. It was the longest she had spoken for in a while. She found it strangely easy to converse with this girl who was so different from herself.

“Me, too,” Azala said. “Well, the foster care part, anyways. But I lived in Timton, and I was permanently adopted, but my family sends all their kids to boarding school when they turn ten. I lost all my cuteness by then, so I guess they sorta got tired of me, anyways. Sometimes they still make me go home for holidays.” She made a face; it was obviously not a pleasant experience.

October nodded. “That kind of, um, sucks.”

Azala grinned. “Yeah, I know. But I don’t mind it here. You have to wear a uniform” – here she made a face again – “but that’s still not so bad. The food is good, at least. And each house gets a TV in its living room, isn’t that cool? And classes are pretty easy, you think it’s going to be hard, ’cause it’s a boarding school, but really it’s simple. Unless you’re Marvin Quarks.” She laughed shortly.

“Who’s that?” October asked, curious about her new environment.

“Only the dumbest kid in fifth form.” Azala answered, grinning. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t know how to tie his shoelaces. So, do you think you’ll like it here?”

October sighed. “I really don’t know. I’ll probably get lost, to be honest.”

Azala laughed again. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you out. People in the same dorm always have the exact same schedules.”

October nodded, relieved. “Thanks.”

They talked for a while longer, until Azala stated that it was time for dinner. Azala lead October down the stairs of the giant house and out the door. October, perplexed, stopped at the end of the walkway. “Uh, isn’t there a kitchen inside the house?”

Azala turned around and laughed. “Yeah, but they don’t let us use them. They’re “a danger to our safety,” according to Principal R. We all eat together up at the school cafeteria, it’s back at the castle.”

Perhaps it was because the look on October’s face gave it away, or maybe Azala could just sense that October was uncomfortable, but whatever the reason she leant over and gave October a hug. October, who was unused to such contact, stiffened immediately. Either Azala didn’t notice or didn’t care, because she didn’t relax her hold. “Don’t freak out about the other people here, I’ll protect you.” she said jokingly, and led October down the path back to the castle.

It wasn’t until October was standing right outside the cafeteria doors did she fully realize that behind them were about 500 adolescent teenagers who probably were not so open to the idea of a new student who was the first “new student” to arrive in a long time. The last time that October had been forced to attend a private school – where only the rich kids who had already gone there for years went – was when she was seven, and she had come home fighting back tears. She started to drum her fingers anxiously, awaiting the moment when the doors would open, and everyone would see her.

Azala gave her another encouraging hug. This time, October did not shrink away. She started to see that it was just what Azala did when she was trying to be comforting.

“If anyone laughs at you or something, I’ll beat them up, I promise,” Azala laughed. October stepped back and looked at Azala with a doubtful look on her face, noting how tiny the girl actually was. Azala just laughed as she realized what October was thinking and opened the door, as October was finally revealed to the rest of the school.