“Silvia Cotton.”
“You’re in room three seventeen,” She glanced up at me, “And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from the Dickinson twins.”
Where the bloody hell did that come from? I wondered, but I asked, “Oh? What do you mean?”
The girl raised her eyebrows at me, then looked down at a list and turned several papers on a clipboard, tapping her pen on each one, “You‘ll find out.”
I waited a moment to see if she wanted to elaborate, but she never glanced up again. I left her sitting at her fold away desk in the corner thinking to myself about how completely unpleasant she’d been. What she said made me a bit nervous, though. I’d only been there a day and although they’d seemed so kind, maybe those boys were trouble. Oh, I hated the idea of having made friends already and of then having to ditch them so quickly. I finally made my way back down the corridor and up the stairs to my new room. I opened the door to find a girl standing in front of the window with her back to me.
“Hello,” I said not too loudly.
She turned, spun, really, on her heels and immediately stuck her hands behind her back as if I’d caught her up to something. The expression on her face was odd, as if she’d swallowed too hard and needed to cough. She looked me up and down for a moment before she spoke, “Hello. I’m Sandra.”
“I’m Silvia,” I smiled. Sandra was incredibly tall and a little too thin, but she looked harmless enough in her little wire rimmed glasses. “Which bed have you taken?”
“I haven’t, but I’d like this one,” She pointed to the one nearest her, “I like to sleep by the window. I mean, if that‘s all right.”
“That’s fine. Which cupboard have you taken?”
“I took the one by the door unless you want it. It doesn‘t matter to me.”
“First come, first serve,” I dropped my leather satchel on my new bed, thinking that she seemed very thoughtful, “I’m just glad I found the room! I had a terrible time!”
“They changed the plates again?” She asked without a smile.
“Yes, they did!”
“Bitches,” Sandy mumbled firmly, “All of them.”
I laughed softly, “I just had one of them tell me to watch myself around the Dickinson twins. Do you know what she meant?”
Her narrow eyes flashed wide for just an instant, “Who was it who said it?”
“I don’t know. The prefect downstairs.”
“Did she have dark hair?” Sandy asked. I nodded. “Long?”
“Medium.”
“Then it wasn’t Jayne Fitzpatrick. Jayne Fitzpatrick and Jennifer Eisenberg are the prefects for this floor this semester. They, I, and Nicole Bell, but Nicole is a blonde. Jayne probably wouldn’t have said it anyway. Did the girl threaten you at all? “
“Not so much. I think maybe she was trying. She was very unpleasant.“
“It was Jennifer Eisenberg,” Sandy said matter of fact, “Don’t mind the Dickinson twins. Watch out for Jennifer Eisenberg.”
“All right.” I yanked my larger suitcase off the floor and swung it on to the bed, glad to hear that those boys were all right. “Can I have this dressing table?”
Sandra nodded and sat on her bed. She watched me for a long time in silence as I began putting my things away. Suddenly she spoke again, “Maybe you do have to look out for the Dickinson twins. I mean, at least half of them. Alexander can be a right cad. Oliver’s all right, though.”
“He’s all right then?” I asked a little too eagerly.
She smiled as if she’d finally decided she liked me, “Yeah,” She nodded, “He’s brilliant. You don’t need to avoid him at all.”
That was the best news I’d ever heard, although her warning me about Alexander fell on deaf ears. Alex could be right foul when the mood struck him. However, I was never intimidated by his nastiness the way most people were. In fact, I must admit that if there had never been an Oliver Dickinson, his brother, Alexander, would have run away with my heart and the two of us would most likely have ended our relationship in the fashion of a double murder. This being said and despite our differences, he and I quickly became the closest of friends. Although so much like Oliver in so many facets, Alex was very different in the girlfriend department. You see, Alex changed his girlfriends like he did his pants, where Oliver was loyal almost to a fault. They were a set of dead ringers, though, physically indistinguishable right down to their fingernails, unless you knew the few subtle differences that told them apart. Looking so much alike and having to wear identical school uniforms was very much a sport for the two of them.
“Oliver, Professor Fields sent me to ask you if you have time this afternoon at four to come by her office,” A fourth year boy with short blond hair approached him in the dining hall.
“What are you calling me Oliver for when I’m Alexander?” Ollie scolded, tossing a scrap of bread at the poor boy, “Bloody hell! Don’t bother me! I’m eating!”
“Right! Tell him I’ll be there!” Alex added sharply, “Now piss off!”
They both thought this sort of thing was terribly funny. They pulled it off successfully two years in a row for final exams and once Oliver served a detention for Alexander so Alex could slip out of school early on a Friday and go see Julian Cope in concert in London with Merlyn. They could even occasionally pull it over on their own parents, but never on Headmistress Pennyweather, who knew one from the other at a glance from clear across the dining hall.
“That is thirty minutes detention cleaning dishes, Mister Alexander Dickinson, for throwing food! If you would like to win Miss Sherwood’s affection, there are better ways! Like complimenting her lovely smile or simply saying hello!” She rather sang her way between the tables, “Mister Oliver Dickinson, I suggest you put away that gum before I see you chewing it. Having it is no crime, but chewing it in any hall beside your dormitory is fifteen minutes detention!” She glanced in my direction with a smile, “Miss Cotton, so nice to see you this morning! Are you rested and ready for the Academic competition this afternoon?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Good, good! We’re apt to win with you in!”
“Thank you, Ma’am, I’ll do my best.”
“I’m sure you will!” She walked away calling, “Misters Pierce and Crosby, hats off in the school buildings!”
“She’s a nightmare,” Alex groaned when Headmistress was out of earshot. “I wish she’d get on her broom and crash into the side of a bus.”
“I think she’s a daisy,” Oliver grinned, popping his gum into his pocket. “I think she’s brilliant.”
“I know you do. You fancy that old harpy. One day I’m going to do something right awful in front of her and make her think it’s you.” Alex threatened as he lifted his spoon.
“Like what?”
“Like going up and pissing into one of those great urns with the shrubs that sit inside her office. Right in front of her, too.” His eyes were narrow. “Like when she’s having tea with parents or something. Just whip it out and…” He bit his bottom lip, imitating the motion.
“It’ll never work,” Oliver returned with little interest, going back to his cereal, “She knows full well you’re the bad egg.”
Their scam would have never worked on me, either. I could tell them apart from minute one. I could tell which one was which just by the way Oliver looked at me. It was the way he told me he loved me all the time, with those beautiful, shiny, dark eyes, right from the moment we met.
There was never a question as to Oliver and me being together. I don’t think anyone had any question about us; we were just as natural as the sky and earth. Immediately we met between classes. He always seemed to know where I’d be. If I was in the library and he had a moment, there he’d appear, whispering to me between the shelves. If I were coming out of a classroom and he was in the same hall, he’d wait for me in the corridor and walk with me. He saved me a seat beside him at meal tables and he always brought me back to the entrance of my hall of residence at curfew. “Just Silvia Cotton,” became, “My Sil” within a month. Mostly we hung out on the quad and in the common room with our friends, but we often went walking by the lake alone.