R.W. Finch

Naughty girls school

CHAPTER ONE

Debbie Anderson's first reaction to the Mayview School for Girls was one of unadulterated hatred, pure and simple.

Getting out of the cab that had brought her, the pretty eighteen-year-old girl stared through the huge front gate at what was to be her new home. A high, wrought-iron fence enclosed the acres of yard, the grass neat and well-trimmed. There was an abundance of shade trees, and a small creek ran bubbling through the grounds off to one side.

"It looks like a prison," Debbie commented without a smile. She brushed a wisp of curly black hair back from her tanned forehead, then reached into the cab to get her small suitcase. "I'm going to hate it."

"Naw!" the cabdriver laughed good-naturedly. "Listen, it'll be a lot of fun. This is a very classy place. Lots of other rich teens. Hell, I wish I could afford to send my girls to a fancy school like this."

"And I wish my parents couldn't," Debbie said.

She stood for a moment, staring through the gate again. The main house was a long, mammoth structure of stone and leaded glass, three stories high and easily a century old. With a wide roof of gray slate and doors of polished oak, the huge manor house seemed both stately and frightening to the girl who was to live there.

"Look, there's some of the inmates." Debbie pointed for the cabdriver.

At a distance from the castle-like house, several girls in uniforms – navy-blue skirts and crisp white blouses – sat under trees and down by the creek, reading or talking together.

"They all look exactly the same," the girl continued. "God, now I hate this place even more!"

"Good luck," the cabdriver said cheerfully.