One Of The Boys

Prep School

At first, it had been hard for Lucy to adjust to the prep school.

Firstly, the place was magnificent. It was a castle nestled in the dip between two rocky mountains, perched on the lush, rolling green hills that cascaded down from the cliffs; eventually, these hills dwindled down to a sharp rock face that overlooked the colorful valleys below. A cute little creek made its way down the green hills, eventually pooling into a little pond at the edge of the school's property. It was beautiful, straight out of a greeting card.

But it wasn't the beauty of the school that had shocked Lucy—it was the students.

She'd been introduced to her dorm roommate—a blue haired girl named Levy—who introduced her to a couple of the other girls. They were nice and extremely polite, of course, but there was something about the way they looked at Lucy—the way they eyed her sweatpants, the way they glanced nonchalantly at her messy ponytail—that made her veins flood with embarrassment. Lucy wasn't sure why, but she got the feeling that the girls were a little disgusted by her.

I mean, sure, she was wearing sweatpants and an old hoodie, but was it really stare worthy?

Lucy looked at the uniforms all the girls were wearing and cringed inwardly. Navy oxford shoes, short plaid navy skirt, flowy navy top with a beige tie. Lucy and skirts didn't really work—the thought of her thighs being naked and bare and visible kind of made her want to die. But, the outfit was mandatory, and as soon as she received her own she would have no choice but to wear it.

Meanwhile, the girls—Levy, Erza, Juvia and Cana—took Lucy out and showed her the campus. The interior was massive—so large that Lucy knew finding her classes would be struggle daily—but the exterior was even more confusing. There were rose gardens to the left and tennis courts to the right and the pool way in the back, and if you continued down the path lined with lavender, you'd hit the stables, where there was a mandatory riding class each week.

Then, the girls made their way back to the dorms—Lucy wasn't sure how they knew what room was theirs; all of the doors looked the exact same and there were no numbers indicating which room was rich, in fear that it would mess up the extravagant décor, or something—and chatted about what classes were like.

The curriculum was nothing Lucy had ever expected. Sure, she'd read the pamphlets about the school. And yes, she'd known it was sort of a luxury school for rich girls whose parents were too busy to spend time with them. But she'd never expected this.

Levy explained that there were regular classes—you know, math, science, history—but that the emphasis within this school was more on behaviour and womanhood. Lucy had frowned, not understanding.

"There's classes on how to behave like a lady," Erza, the redhead, had said. "How to eat, how to sit, how to walk. Those will be the basics that you'll cover in your first semester here. Then, you'll move on. Dance classes, beauty classes, stuff like that. It's really in depth."

Lucy's throat was tight. "Are they mandatory?"

Yeah, she'd come here in the hopes that she'd turn out like a normal girl—but the idea still terrified her. She wasn't good at the girly stuff.

Juvia giggled. "Yes—but don't worry. You'll pick it up quickly."

She didn't. The first two weeks of class were the most stressful thing Lucy had ever undergone; she was bombarded with information about how to cross your legs and how to curl your hair for a formal dinner and how no, sometimes pantyhose wasn't appropriate. She was cramming for fashion tests—yes, fashion tests—and reading books about speaking with a lady-like tone. She didn't understand a thing about what she was learning but she was desperately trying to get by.

Luckily, her friends were helpful and fairly understanding. They helped her study, helped her understand, quizzed her on fashion and makeup and hairstyles.

And, slowly yet surely, Lucy started to pick up on it. After a couple weeks, she figured out exactly how to curl her hair so it had volume but didn't look like a lion's mane; she knew how to apply foundation so that it didn't crease when she smiled. She figured out the difference between an A-line skirt and a skater; she was beginning to understand how to speak politely yet firmly, in a way that demanded attention but wasn't rude.

And, as the months went by, she began to change. She no longer stuck out in her group of friends; she wasn't the weird tomboy anymore. Now, she was confident in the short plaid skirt; her hair was long and wavy rather than pulled up messily into a ponytail. She aced her fashion tests, she aced her behavioral tests. She was doing exceptionally well—better than any of her teachers had expected. When the semester ended, she was the top of every class; in her group of friends, she was the one that shone the brightest.

Lucy finished her first semester and stayed for the summer period. There weren't any of the strictly educational classes, but girls who stayed behind were welcome to continue taking behavioral or beauty classes. Schedules varied slightly and there was more free time, so the girls could go horse-back riding or even spend time at the campus spa for hours on end.

Levy stayed the summer too, and the two girls had a blast. They'd go to the spa and get a facial, then head over to class and learn what was upcoming in runway fashion; they'd study New York Fashion Week looks and bicker about which celebrity wore the polka dot mini better.

And bit by bit, the little Lucy who played in the mud and could hit a baseball farther than any boy began to fade into the background. Now, her skin was radiant and her nails were clean and trimmed, and any thoughts she'd ever had about feeling awkward and out of place were long gone.

Here, with the girls, she finally fit in, and the thought made her happy. She didn't feel stupid anymore. She didn't feel like the ugly girl that no one gave a rat's ass about. She was pretty and she was happy and she finally belonged to something. And that was the whole point—that's why she'd come. Because she was sick of being that girl who had ugly clothes or that girl who followed the boys around. She was sick of being like a little brother to people. Now, she was the star of the show. When she entered a room, people looked at her in awe. It was what she'd always wanted.

So, when she got that little aching feeling in the back of her chest—the one that thought about the old days, the mud fights, the sleepovers with a particular pink haired boy—she ignored it, stuffing it to the back of her mind where it wouldn't bother her.

Because she fit in here. This was who she was, now.

And by the time summer drew to a close and Lucy's time at the prep school was ending, she felt sad. She didn't want to leave. She was comfortable there, happy with how things had turned out. But she missed her father and she knew it was time for her to return home, so she packed her things without complaint.

Levy cried when Lucy's car arrived to take her to the airport; the two promised to stay in contact, to email each other every day so they could chat and gossip.

The flight was long and bumpy, but the second she stepped off the plane a huge grin spread across her lips. Because her dad was there, and he looked so surprised when he saw her, and his eyes got wet in an instant (after all, she did look exactly like her mother, now). And they hugged and chatted the whole way home, and everything felt perfect again.

They'd gotten home late and Lucy had collapsed into her bed, exhausted from travelling. She was thankful she had a couple days off until class began—her father had enrolled her into her old high school—so she could rest up and adjust.

Lucy fell asleep instantly, sleep enveloping her. She fell asleep so quickly that she didn't even think about the house next door, or the boy who lived there. She never even noticed what was beyond her bedroom window.

She didn't even think about the little can that still hung from her windowsill into her bedroom, an echo of the past.