Prissy School for the Petticoated Scene 6

Wednesday became Thursday and soon it was Friday; the last weekday of the Easter break. On Monday I’ll start at my new school and the closer it gets, the more I’m dreading it. On Saturday Mother took Jane and I into town and bought us some new stationary, a school bag and a raincoat each. I feared even the coat would be really girlie but it wasn’t too bad I suppose. On Sunday, Mother taught me a new skill… ironing! Up until now, Mother has done all the ironing but from now on I’m expected to iron my own school shirts. To be fair, my sister irons hers so don’t have too much cause for complaint. I struggled to sleep that night. What boy wouldn’t?

“Don’t look so worried.” Mother said when I entered the kitchen early on Monday morning wearing my humiliating school uniform. Jane also gave me a few words of support; reminding me that all the boys (and girls) will be wearing similar. After breakfast, Jane popped to the bathroom and Mother took the opportunity to check that I was wearing my knickers. “Good boy.” she grinned after I’d lifted my skirt enough for her to see.

“Are you going to drive us?” I asked, hoping she’d say yes.

I wasn’t surprised when she said no and reminded that it’s not too far away. “And remember, you’re to go straight to the office and give them your enrolment papers.” she reminded me. Mother made sure they were in my bag, before packing us both out of the door, telling us both to be good and “…have fun!”

“Fun?” I moaned as I followed my sister up the drive. “It’s going to be traumatic.”

“It’ll be fine.” Jane insisted. “It’s a normal school, the only difference is your uniform.” she insisted before glancing at my skirt, legs, socks and shoes.

“That’s a pretty big difference.” I moaned.

“You’ll get used to it.” she replied, before asking if my legs were cold.

“A bit.” I replied.

“Mine are freezing!” she replied. I glanced at her legs and suggested the reason they’re ‘freezing’ is because she’s no hair on them. “Well, you’ve none on yours either.” she replied.

“There’s a bit.” I claimed, although admittedly at almost twelve years old, there’s not much. “How come you get plain socks and I have to wear these?” I whined.

“Because I’ve got plain socks.” she replied. “I’d rather wear tights though.”

As we got closer to the school, we started to spot other pupils all heading in the same direction. Most wore a dark blue overcoat that concealed their uniform and I found myself wondering if some were long haired boys or short haired girls. Of course there were older pupils too and their gender was obvious due to their size and shape. It hadn’t dawned on me before now that I’ll still be here when I’m sixteen… almost a man but dressing as girl!

 

 

I let Jane do all the talking when asking for directions to the school office. We handed over our papers and waited whilst the secretary perused them. A friendly looking teacher exited the staff room, spotted us and knowing that we must be new, introduced himself before asking our names. He asked me if I’d been to a ‘petticoating’ school before and I shook my head, adding “No Sir” for good measure.

“Well you’ve nothing to worry about Matthew, it’s just a uniform… nothing more, nothing less.”

I forced a smile and muttered “Hmm.” I gulped. He checked his watch, bid us good luck and said we’d settle in in no time before continuing on his way. I didn’t believe him.

The secretary said someone would be along shortly so we waited. Pupils hurried along the corridor and clack clack clack of so many block heels on the parquet floor was almost deafening. Teachers filtered out of the staff room carrying bundles of books and their class registers. One stopped and said “Jane Spencer?”

“Yes Miss.” my sister replied. The teacher introduced himself as Mr Parker and her form teacher. My sister said hello and and he asked her to follow him. “See ya!” Jane said, leaving me alone.

“Matthew?” I lady’s voice asked. I turned to see a young woman clutching a bundle of books. She introduced herself as my form teacher and asked me to follow her. She seemed pleasant and chatty and I got the feeling she was well liked. As plenty of pupils smiled and greeted her as we walked through the hustle and bustle of the school’s corridors. “So what was your last school like?” she asked.

“Er… OK.” I replied. “Not really like this one.” I added.

“You mean the boys wore trousers?” she asked, looking me in the eye and smiling knowingly. I nodded and hung my head. She asked me what my favourite classes were. I replied and she said “Well you’ll fit right in here… we’re very proud of our art department, and our history teacher’s an actual dinosaur!” She grinned, stopped, opened a door and said “This is 3C, your new form room.”