Miss Mabel's School for Girls Read Free Page B

be buried in a book.
    “Are we going to get in trouble?” I asked.
    “No, but I hate it when Miss Scarlett singles me out. She’s terrifying.”
    Camille started into the room along the back wall at a cautious creep, and I followed close behind. The moment I stepped into the room every eye fell on me like metal to a magnet.
    Fantastic. An entrance.
    “Care to explain why you’re late, Miss Duncan?” A booming voice came from the front of the room. Camille halted with a wince.
    “Y-yes, Miss Scarlett. Miss Celia asked me to show Bianca to her room before dinner.”
    Camille stood at my side instead of retreating to her seat. I felt a moment of gratitude that she didn’t leave me standing in front of the school alone.
    “You must be Bianca Monroe,” Miss Scarlett said, turning towards me. “I just heard of your coming. You’re a bit earlier than expected.”
    “Yes, Miss Scarlett,” I straightened and looked right at her in the hopes of feeling more sanguine than I felt.
    I arrived early because I lifted my skirts and ran here. Hope that qualifies me to fit in. If not, let me impress you with my secret talent at brewing the perfect tea.
    Miss Scarlett stood in front of the fire at the top of the room. Her tall, broad shoulders, backlit by the flames, made her seem like a tree rising from the ground. Her reddish brown hair shone, pulled away from her face in a tight bun. Red bracelets dangled from her right wrist and sang when they touched. I couldn’t decipher whether she was friend or foe. She studied me with narrowed eyes.
    “Welcome to Miss Mabel’s School for Girls.” When the silence stretched a beat too long she broke it, gesturing to the other side of the room with a hand. “Miss Bernadette will be your advisor.”
    A slender woman in the corner stepped forward with a warm smile. Her short-cropped hair framed a lovely, heart-shaped face.
    “Merry meet, Bianca,” she called in a voice that sounded like wind chimes. “It’s always good to have a new student.”
    A rush of relief flooded me. She seemed very kind. I smiled and nodded in return.
    “Merry meet, Miss Bernadette.”
    “Sit with Camille,” Miss Scarlett ordered, turning back to a scroll of parchment floating in the air next to her. “Miss Bernadette will find you later to go over the rules and expectations. Dinner starts promptly at six every evening. This is your warning. Do not be late again. Jackie Simmons?”
    A voice called out from across the room, “Here!” Camille and I quickly made our escape. 
    “Miss Scarlett is a real stickler for rules,” Camille whispered. “Don’t let her see you break them.”
    “Thanks for not leaving me on my own.”
    She smiled. “You’re welcome.”
    Camille motioned the girls on the back bench to scoot down, and they made room for me at the end. The girl with white hair looked up in surprise, her book now hidden in her lap from Miss Scarlett’s roving gaze. She had two different-colored eyes, light brown and olive green, set against pale skin.
    Miss Scarlett cleared her throat to get our attention.
    “Now that roll is complete, we will proceed with the feast. After that I will take the names of the third-years who want to join the annual Competition. Miss Celia, we are ready.”
    A swinging door banged open, streaming platters and bowls piled high with a succulent array of food. Miss Celia stood at the back, orchestrating the placement of the trays that didn’t obey her magical commands to exactness. Once every dish found the right spot, they descended on the tables with a light clink.
    “Oh,” Camille groaned with a hand on her stomach. “Look at all this food. I’m starving! I’m going to eat until I die, and then it’ll be a happy passing.”
    The quiet anticipation in the room exploded. Camille grabbed a fork and stabbed into a nearby pile of roasted potatoes. “Get it while it’s still here, Bianca. Food goes fast. Trust me, you don’t want to miss a single bite of Miss