Chapter Text
“Lavinia,” the lady mused, pausing while looking at what Lavinia had assumed was her school file on the computer screen with the same smirk that said she had already made up her mind about how she was, and how her parents would’ve acted were they here. “Haven’t heard that name before,” the old woman muttered. Maybe old was a bit harsh, but the lady had to be at least forty. She had thick rectangular glasses and was rather stocky, though you could tell she was pretty before time caught up with her, probably peaked in high school. The name plaque on the desk read "Julia Quill," which fit her. Lavinia simply looked around, choosing to pretend she hadn’t heard the comment about her name. After a couple of moments of silence with only the clacking of the office computer keys, a tall, round woman with curly brown hair in a ponytail stepped out of one of the offices, a thick stack of papers in her hands. Lavinia immediately smiled and waved at her. If there was one thing she was excited about returning to St. Gabriel’s for, it was Ms. Kirstin or Mrs. Tilm, as of five years ago. I mean, the school had its issues like every boarding school: it was religious, which Lavinia never liked, half the teachers were as old as the building itself, and the uniform was ugly by any standard, but the other half of the staff were patient and kind, like the teacher she was waving at right now. Was she still waving? Damn it. It still felt weird for her old dorm mother to be married to Mr. Tilm, the boy’s gym teacher. “You're in Folly Hall, dorm 238. Amayah Folly will be your dorm mother.” Julia declared from behind the desk, though it sounded like a death sentence.
Everyone in the school whispered about Folly Hall, which was one of the oldest wings of the ancient school; even the people who stayed in the hall thought it was haunted by Mr. Gabriel himself, plus it was also known as the “problem hall” by staff. Amayah Folly did nothing around the hall that was literally named after her great-great-great-grandmother, Winifred Folly, the first female teacher to ever work at the school, and the first female teacher to ever be requested by a parent. All the girls who stayed in the hall were loud and unruly, even if they were shy going in, they were either left broken or a bitch. Lavinia took the key Ms. Quill had handed her, then left the front desk as quickly as possible, wanting to get to her dorm as fast as she could so that maybe her roommates wouldn’t be there yet and Lavinia wouldn’t have to talk to them yet.
After a couple of wrong turns and having to ask an older girl with brunette hair where to turn, Lavinia made it to the doors of Folly Hall. They were heavy and dark, as if they had witnessed every mistake that had happened in the school. Nevertheless, Lavinia opened one of the doors just enough to slip into the common area of the wing. The first thing she noticed was that it smelled like old books. There was also a grand fireplace with stone detailing, the kind you don’t find anywhere anymore, and just in front of it was a group of about five girls, spread out on the shag rug, plush arm chairs, and the sofa, which hadn’t been changed in a while, though it still looked comfortable. They were giggling about something; they clearly hadn’t noticed Lavinia yet, so she quickly made her way up the stairs. Walking quietly through the dim, windowless hall until she eventually found her dorm at the end of the hallway. When she opened the door, Lavinia was immediately greeted by her reflection in the mirror. She saw what she always did, curly brunette hair tied up in some sort of bun, amber eyes that looked exactly like her dad’s eyes in the photos her grandma allowed her to have, and skin covered head to toe in freckles. Her constant tenseness was extremely visible in her posture at the moment. After a few seconds, she made her shoulders deflate and took out her bun, letting her mess of hair fall past her shoulders. It was a sensation she was used to feeling, something almost soothing.
She found the room was bright, the curtains were left open, and clothes were strewn around the room. Three of the four beds were already claimed, one had seashells and beach memorabilia all around it, another had pressed butterflies and a few religious decorations, and the top bunk over the unclaimed bed had a paper chain of bats. Lavinia went and set her bookbag on the unclaimed bed. All the bed had were white sheets and a white-covered pillow. It was bland, but it was hers. The time had quickly gone into evening, yet even after the last bell rang, none of Lavinia’s roommates showed up, which honestly surprised her. I mean, what else is there to do at a crummy school besides read in your dorm? But it was already half past five, so it would be time for dinner in the hall soon. Lavinia pushed herself up off the bed, took a tissue from the box on her headboard, and used it as a bookmark.