Confessions of a Wild Child Read Free

image to maintain, so kindly always be sure to uphold our rules or you’ll risk immediate expulsion. Remember our motto: Girls of Quality – Women of Status.’ A long pause to allow us to absorb her words – then – ‘That will be all for now. Mr Lindstrom will show you to your quarters.’
    Quarters? I really have stepped into a Charles Dickens world.
    Mr Lindstrom struggles to retrieve our luggage from the trunk of the old Mercedes he’d driven from the airport. I help him. Liz doesn’t. I get the impression she’s a bit of a bitch. But I still want to hear everything she has to say about sex.
    Does it hurt?
    Is it fun?
    How do you not get pregnant?
    Hmm . . . I guess she’ll have no answer to that question.
    We enter the building, dragging our suitcases behind us since Mr Lindstrom has now given up. It seems we’ve been allotted different rooms. Liz is on the first floor, I am on the second. Mr Lindstrom huffs and puffs all the way to my room, then does a quick vanish.
    I fling open the door and there, sitting cross-legged on her bed, is my roommate, a short girl with small blue eyes set in a round face, cascades of the most glorious curly golden hair, very pale skin, and extremely well developed breasts.
    Being more or less flat-chested I am immediately jealous.
    ‘You must be the new girl,’ she says, lighting up a cigarette, which I’m sure is not allowed.
    ‘Lucky Saint,’ I reply, standing awkwardly in the doorway.
    ‘What the hell kind of name is that ?’ she demands, blowing a stream of smoke in my direction.
    ‘And you are?’ I say, determined not to let her get to me.
    ‘Olympia Stanislopoulos,’ she drawls, flicking ash on the carpet. ‘Welcome to the house of horrors.’
    Oh my God! This place totally sucks .

Chapter Four
     
    A t first Olympia is not exactly friendly, more wary and inclined to ignore me once she discovers I am a year younger than her. We’re in the same grade, which probably pisses her off, because as far as schoolwork goes I’m smarter too. I have learned something along the way. I speak three languages and I’m a whiz with numbers. I wish I was sharing a room with the infamous Liz. I desperately need some juicy sex education, and she’s just the girl to give it to me.
    After my fifteenth birthday – celebrated with one candle on a cupcake – and a brief phone call from Daddy Gino, Olympia starts to warm up to me. After all, she’s got no choice since we are sleeping in the same room. She tells me about her father, Greek shipping billionaire Dimitri Stanislopoulos, divorced from her mom, an American socialite.
    ‘They both like totally spoil the hell outta me,’ Olympia reveals with an entitled tilt of her head. ‘It’s kinda a one-upmanship deal for them to see who gets the most love. Daddy is desperate for me to marry some rich Greek dude with a ton of money, and Mom figures I should choose a career.’
    ‘Doing what?’ I ask innocently.
    ‘Beats me,’ Olympia responds with a casual laugh. ‘I’ve been thrown out of two schools, this is the third. Each time they send me further away.’
    At least you have both parents , I’m longing to say. But I don’t, ’cause I’d learned that once Olympia starts talking it’s best not to interrupt. She’s a girl used to getting her own way.
    ‘All I wanna do is have fun,’ Olympia announces. ‘Boys, booze an’ grass. You can join me if you like.’
    ‘How’s that possible?’ I ask. ‘We’re locked up here. Besides, there’s nowhere to go.’
    ‘Wanna bet?’ Olympia says, a big grin lighting up her face. ‘Lights out at nine thirty. You an’ me out the window at nine thirty-five. You on?’
    Yes. I am certainly on .
    Later that evening we climb out our window, clinging onto the rampant ivy as we skim shakily down a nearby tree.
    I feel excited and full of fire. This is the adventure I’ve been dreaming of.
    Once we hit the ground, Olympia grabs a couple of bikes from a covered shed, and we are