Welcome to the Shitshow

 James

 “James! Time to go!” My mum yells from downstairs. I groan and drag myself out of bed. I look at my calendar hanging on the wall. Last day of summer holiday. Great. “James Alexander Synder!” My mum screeches. 

      “I’m coming! Jesus mum! Chill out!” I yell in reply. 

      “We have to be at the platform in thirty minutes!” She informs me. I stumble around my room grab a white  button-up and khaki pants. I hurriedly change and then throw a patterned vest on top of my button up. I grab my trunk and a copy of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby and scramble downstairs. “With the time you take to get ready you’d think that your hair would be brushed.” My mum comments.

      “Oh sod off mum,” I groan, grabbing the hairbrush from her hand. I quickly comb through my tangled, brown hair and slip on my shoes. I drag my trunk out to the car and throw it in the boot. I hop in the car and say,

      “Remind me why I have to go to this boys school in Ely again.” 

      “The fresh air will be good for you James.” My mum tells me. 

      “That’s not a good enough reason to take me from my old school and move 308 kilometers away from home.” I grumble.

      “Stop complaining James. It’s not going to change my mind.” She replies. 

      “But mum!” I protest.

      “Enough!” She yells. We ride in silence for the rest of the drive. We arrive at Manchester Victoria Station, I hop out of the car, and grab a trolley for my belongings. “Alright here’s your ticket. The train you’re taking is at Platform seven.” She notifies me. I nod and turn to go. “James.” She calls.

      “What?” I groan.

      “Aren’t you forgetting something?” She asks. I roll my eyes and give her a quick hug. 

      “I’ll see you at Christmas mum.” I tell her. I then walk into the station and look for Platform seven. After what seems like a millennium I finally spot Platform seven. “Well, here goes nothing.” I mutter. I drag my trunk to the loading platform and give it to the service crew. I walk up to a door of a traincar. 

      “Ticket please.” An old man demands in a bored voice. I hand him my ticket. “Ah one of the Morti boys I see. You can go to cars three or four.” He informs me. I nod and hop on the train. I walk to car three. Damnit. All the carriages are full. I walk to car four and finally find an empty carriage. I plop down on the left side of the carriage and pull The Great Gatsby from my travel bag. Just seconds later a knock comes to the door of my carriage. I look up from my book to see a lanky boy about my age outside the entry way. He was extremely tall with straight black hair styled in a middle part. He wore a white button-up with khaki pants, like me, but with a plain black vest on top. He opens the sliding door and asks,

      “Can I join you? All the other carriages are full.” 

      “Sure.” I reply shortly, returning to my book. 

      “I’m Joshua by the way. Everyone calls me Joss though. Are you new to school?” He questions. 

      “Yeah.” I answer. 

      “What’s your name?” He inquires.

      “James.” I respond. 

      “What are you reading?” He queries. 

      “The Great Gatsby.” I inform him. 

      “You don’t talk much do you,” He comments.

      “And you don’t seem to shut up.” I retort. 

      “Rude.” He mutters.

      “What was that?” I question.

      “Nothing.” He mumbles. “So… what’s your talent?” He questions.

     “Excuse me what?” I ask. 

     “You know… the special thing you can do to get into the school?” He says.

     “Oh. I uh can write I guess.” I tell him. 

     “Okay so what I’m hearing is you can help me with my English papers,” he says with a smirk. 

     “Uh no. Not happening.” I inform him.

     “Why not,” He whines. 

     “Because one, I barely know you, and two, I don’t like you very much.” I say, returning to my book. 

      “Well aren’t you just a ray of sunshine.” He tells me. 

      “Thank you. Now I’d appreciate it if you’d shut the hell up and leave me to my book.” I snap. Wow way to go James. You’ve probably already made your first enemy and you aren’t even at school yet. The guy just laughs. “What’s so funny?” I ask. 

      “Nothing. I have a feeling you and Ez will get along really well.” He comments.

     “Two questions, who’s Ez and why would that be?” I ask. 

      “Ezra Browne. You both are literally the same person.” He divulges. I nod and continue reading. “Well if you’re going to continue being this chatty I might as well take a nap,” He states, laying down on the seat. After about ten minutes he was out cold. 

      “Finally some peace and quiet.” I sigh. I continue to read and before I know it, the sun has gone down and the train screeches to a halt. I peer out the window and see a sign on the platform that reads: Ely Railway Station. I tap Joshua on the shoulder and say, “C’mon. We’ve made it to Ely.” He sits up quickly, rubbing his blood-shot eyes.

      “Thanks for waking me.” He expresses, grabbing his brown, leather travel bag. He then proceeds to exit the carriage without another word. I shrug before grabbing my own travel bag and walking out of the carriage onto the platform. 

      “Bus for The Morti School for Boys this way!” A Scottish voice rings out amongst the madness of the station. I follow the voice and stumble upon a young man. He looks older than me, but not by much. He has a cleanly trimmed, chestnut beard and is wearing Vintage Square glasses that slightly hides his dark brown eyes. He’s dressed up in a suit, though he’s missing the jacket. The sleeves of his white button-up are rolled up, giving him a relaxed, professor look. “Alright lads, do we have everyone?” He asks. He calls roll and then says, “Alright, I’m Professor Cyrus Weber, you can call me Cyrus. I’m an English professor as well as the overseer for the Year 11 and 12 dormitories. Let’s get going so you all can settle in to the dorms before midnight.”  He walks towards the bus, and we follow suit. I somehow get pushed towards the back of the group so when I get into the bus, all the seats are occupied. Bloody hell. Of course. I keep scanning the seats for an empty place and I spot Joshua waving me down. Well, I guess I have no choice. I sit down next to him.

      “Did you put in any roommate requests?” He asks. 

      “Well I don’t really know anyone at the school besides you so I didn’t.” I inform him. He nods. 

      “Maybe we’ll be on the same floor! We probably won’t be in the same room though because I’ve been rooming with Ezra and Louis for ages. But you never know, I’ve heard that the Year 11 and 12 dorms can occupy three to four people per room.” He notifies me. 

      “Cool,” I reply, subconsciously beginning to shake my leg. 

      “Nervous?” He questions. I nod. “Don’t be. Everyone in our year is pretty cool. There isn’t really anything to be worried about. Except maybe maths. That s**t is tosh.” He reassures me. I laugh. 

      “Agreed.” I reply. We keep up the small talk until we reach the gates of the school. The gate was a just a plain, tan-brick archway, leading to a gravel, circular driveway. After I pull my eyes away from the marble water fountain, and bring my gaze to the school. There’s ivy climbing up the gray and tan stone walls. “It looks like a castle,” I mutter. 

      “That’s because it is. This school used to be called Naesbury Castle. It was owned by the Lord and Lady Naesbury in the late 1800s.” He tells me as we step out onto the gravel. 

      “Boring the newbie with history facts are ya Amherst?” A brunet guy asks in a thick Irish accent. He has on a white undershirt and khaki pants, with a silver chain hanging on his neck. He was only slightly taller than I, with the signature “I’m a d****e but I’m hot” haircut. His eyes told a completely different story though. They were swirls of hazel and green, and gave off a certain innocence that completely threw off the fboy vibes I was getting from him. “Have a staring problem bud?” He asks. 

      “Sorry.” I mumble. 

      “It’s alright. I know I’m fit,” He says, sweeping the hair out of his eyes. 

      “Leave him alone Ez, poor man is gonna go through a lot when he gets to the dorms.” Joshua reminds him. 

      “So you must be the famous Ezra Browne,” I comment. 

      “Joss told you all about me I see? Honestly the man is obsessed with me. It’s getting quite weird.” He whispers. 

      “I heard that,” Joss says loudly. 

      “Year 11 and 12 boys this way!” Professor Cyrus calls. Ezra, Joss, and I, along with about forty boys, follow him to the west wing of the castle. “Alright lads! When I call your name, grab your trunk, and go to the room number I tell you. Room 401 is Amherst, Joshua S., Browne, Ezra L., Gardener, Paulie N. and Stephens, Louis N.” He calls out.

     “Alright I’ll catch you later James,” Joss says, walking over to the mountain of trunks. 

     “Nice meeting ya,” Ezra adds, winking before following Joss to retrieve his trunk. Cyrus keeps reading off rooms and names. “Room 415 is Daniels, Oliver E. 

Davis, Lochlann Z., and Synder, James A.” He lists. I take a deep breath before going to grab my trunk. I walk quickly up the stairs to my room. I walk down, reading each room number as I pass. God this bloody hall is neverending. Finally. 415. I twist the knob of my room, revealing a sizeable living space . Blimey this room is huge. I walk in, dragging my one-ton trunk behind me. I wander past a seating area with a couch, bean bag chairs, and a television, searching for the bedroom. I finally find the sleeping quarters after coming across a bathroom and kitchenette. There are three, four-poster beds, with burgundy and navy canopies, to match the school crest. And at each four-poster, there was room to put a trunk at the foot of the bed. 

      “Bloody hell this room is ginormous!” Someone exclaims from behind me, making me jump. I turn around to see a dude with the stature of a child. He has straight, auburn hair, styled in a middle part, though it was a bit messy, and dark blue eyes. He’s wearing a patterned jumper, and white slacks, and rounded glasses. “Sorry did I scare you?” He asks, setting his trunk down. I nod. “Sorry. I’m Ollie by the way.” He says, holding his hand out for me to shake. I take it. 

      “I’m James.” I reply.

      “Nice to meet you. How about we get settled in and then we can you know talk or whatever?” He asks.

      “Sounds good.” I say, turning back around and opening my trunk. 

      “Ollie! Where are you? I can’t find the bedroom!” Someone shouts from just outside. 

      “I’m in here Locs!” Ollie shouts in reply. I turn around to see an extremely attractive guy towering in the doorway. He has dirty blond hair, also styled in a middle part, but it’s more well kempt than Ollie’s. He has the most mesmerizing sea green eyes, an adorable up-turned nose, and thin lips formed into a smile. He has rosy cheeks and the kindest look about him. He’s wearing a black undershirt, with a chocolate brown jacket, and black slacks to match the shirt. 

       “Hey. I’m Lochlann. You can call me Locs though. Everyone does,” He tells me with a grin. I return the smile and reply, 

      “I’m James. It’s a pleasure.” I say, holding out my hand for him to shake. 

      “The pleasure is all mine. Mind if I call you Jamie?” He questions, shaking my hand. 

      “No I don’t mind at all,” I say, feeling my cheeks getting warm. Holy s**t this guy is hot. He drags his trunk to the bed beside mine and takes his jacket off, revealing his muscly arms stretching the sleeves of his shirt. Bloody hell. What is happening to me. 

      “What time is it?” Lochlann asks. 

      “It’s almost eleven.” Ollie replies. 

      “God, I’m bushed. I’m gonna change into some pyjamas.” Locs announces. 

      “Same,” Ollie and I reply in unison. I take off my vest and dress shirt, leaving my undershirt on. “Jesus Christ man how are you not sweating your arse off?” Ollie asks me. 

      “Just naturally cold natured I guess?” I say. 

      “You’ll have to excuse Oliver, he acts like a five year old, but he drinks and curses like a sailor,” Locs jokes before taking off his shirt, revealing shredded, six-pack abs. 

      “DAYUM DUDE! When the f**k did you decide to grow abs?!?” Ollie whistles. 

      “Ollie that’s not how it works,” Lochlann chuckles. 

      “Then how does it work because I need to get some too! Jesus! Leave some for the rest of us!” He tells him, jokingly fanning his face. Lochlann laughs and changes into some blue and black plaid pants. He flops down onto his bed and rests his hands behind his head. 

      “Aren’t you going to put a shirt on?” I ask.

      “Nah it’s like sauna in here. Does it bother you?” He questions. 

      “Uh no not one bit,” I say, hopping into my bed pulling the duvet over myself. 

      “Are you cold? It’s literally a million degrees in here,” Locs comments. 

     “Yeah I am a tad chilly,” I answer. 

      “Well if you need it, I have several hoodies in my trunk. I don’t mind sharing,” He offers. 

      “Thanks. But I’m alright now that I’m under the covers. S**t. Forgot to grab my book and manuscripts,” I say, going over to my trunk. I dig through my belongings and bring out my notebook and Agatha Christie’s Death on the Nile. 

      “Manuscripts? Who are you? Bloody Shakespeare?” Ollie asks.

      “Well I write,” I inform him. 

      “What do you write?” Lochlann questions. 

      “Uh all sorts of things. Mystery novels, short stories, plays, and the like,” I tell him.

      “Whoa that’s cool! You are going to be Cyrus’ favorite for sure,” Locs comments.

      “The English professor?” I ask. He nods. A knock comes to the door of our dorm room. 

      “I’ll get it ,” Ollie says. 

      “I wonder who that could be,” I say quietly.

      “Probably Ez and Joss,” Locs tells me. 

      “Oh nice, I met them earlier,” I comment, combing through my hair. Locs chuckles. “What?” I ask, puzzled. 

      “You fancy Ez don’t you?” He asks. I laugh. 

      “Bold of you to assume I like dudes,” I comment.

      “No straight man would have The Picture of Dorian Gray in their book collection,” He informs me. 

      “Well maybe I just like all sorts of literature,” I shoot back. 

      “Including Greek Mythology?” He questions.

      “Yes?” I answer, confused. He just laughs. I roll my eyes and return to my book. 

      “The party has arrived!” Joss announces, walking into the bedroom, Ezra following. 

      “Hey Synder,” Ezra greets, winking at me.  

      “Browne,” I say, acknowledging him. He sits next to me. 

      “What’re ya readin’?” He questions. 

      “Death on the Nile,” I reply shortly. 

      “Sounds… interesting,” He says slowly. “But put the book down I didn’t come over here to watch ya read,” He says, grabbing the book from me. I try to take it back but he holds it over his head. He was only slightly taller than me, but tall enough to keep the book out of my reach. I finally give up. “Give up?” He asks. 

      “Yeah,” I sigh, sitting on my bed in pretend defeat. 

      “Aw is Jamie sad? Does he want his book back?” Ezra teases. 

      “Oh stop taunting him ya tosser. It’s his first day for Christ’s sake,” Joss says, whacking Ez upside the head. Joss yanks the book from him and tosses it back to me. 

      “What made you want to come to this prison anyways?” Ollie questions. 

      “My mum. She apparently had enough of my s**t so she shipped me here,” I explain.

      “Relatable,” Ezra comments. 

       “Well with you I understand why your mum shipped you here. You’re the reason God created the middle finger. But James, you seem like a decent person what did you do?” Joss asks me. I laugh. 

      “I kept getting in trouble at school,” I explain.

      “What kind of trouble?” Locs asks. 

      “Sleeping in class, disagreeing with teachers, that kind of that thing,” I tell them.

      “And that got you sent to boarding school? Jesus, I thought my parents were strict,” Ollie comments. 

      “Well I did it quite a lot so I got tons of detentions.” I explain further. 

      “Teachers don’t give a flying f**k here if you sleep in class or insert a statement in class. They try to understand,” Ezra comments. I nod. A knock comes to the dorm room.

      “Lights out lads!” I hear Cyrus shout. 

      “S**t it’s midnight!” Joss exclaims, running out the door. 

      “Well we better get going. Catch you in class tomorrow princesses,” Ezra says, exiting our room. 

      “We better get some sleep. Breakfast is at seven tomorrow.” Lochlann tells us. 

      “Why does breakfast have to be at the arse crack of dawn?” Ollie groans, pulling his covers over his head. 

      “Shut the hell your mouth Oliver Daniels,” Locs orders. 

      “Well Jesus, goodnight then,” Ollie says. It goes quiet for a minute before Ollie asks, “Wait one question. If you breed a Bulldog and a Shitzu, would it be called a Bullshit?” 

      “Oh my God shut the f**k up Ollie,” Lochlann groans. 

      “Sorry. Goodnight Locs. I hope the bed bugs bite,” He says. 

      “Goodnight a*****e,” Locs replies. 

       Well, that was my first night at The Morti School for Boys, only God knows what would await my friends and I a little over a week later.

Reviews

[Aura]

Oh wow! Okay so I read this chapter now and so many things make sense because I actually read the 3rd chapter before this one. Clearly this story focuses on James Alexander, and not Paulie, because in the third chapter it starts off with Paulie getting dressed to go to a party and now I realize that all of the characters in this story are guys, I had the impression that Paulie was a girl from the third chapter. So many things are making sense now! You have a talent when it comes to storytelling thats for sure, I really enjoyed reading this and comparing it to your third chapter of this book, I wish I hadn't read the third chapter now, I kind of spoiled the story for myself, but I shall keep on reading chapter 2!