munificence

noun

1. the quality or action of being extremely generous

The weekend passed in a flurry of work, for everyone. Monday rolled around and I was off to start at my new school.

"Mum, you don't have to come with me. I'm capable of going on my own."

"I know, but I still have to sign your forms, I don't mind doing this in person."

"OK, but just so you know, I don't like being seen with someone who keeping getting mistaken as my older sister..." That made her crack up laughing.

Stirling drove us both to Mt Sommers Private School and when we drove up, the school looked like an office block for a world renowned travel agent company building. White square pillars with walls of glass. So flash and fancy, and it was for a high school.

I was beginning to wonder if this was a good idea.

"You got everything you need? Bag, medicine, lunch?" Mum is fretting for me.

"Yes, I'm good."

"I wished you'd waited until the stitches came out."

"I am moving on with my life, Mum. I need to do this or I will start to wallow in my own self-pity. The plan is finish school, start uni in two months, get rich and move out of home. I can't bludge off you and Wallace all my life."

"Who is saying you're bludging. If anything you have become too independent and that worries me. Here, take this." She hands me a small gift and pulls out $20 from her wallet.

"What?"

"Open it later. Not now. We have a registration form to sign. Come along."

The office reception area was exactly like I remember.

"Don't you find this office a little too familiar? Like it looks like Wallace's ground floor reception area, only on a smaller scale? Did they use the same interior designer?" Mum was trying to keep her straight face.

"I swear, even the carpet is the same. Look, look. The same case, I saw that just the other day. Holy crap!" I was mock whispering to my mum when we were called up to the counter by the office lady.

"Principal Shanton will see you now." She pointed us to the hallway where his office was located but left us to find out own way. Mum helped me up from the chair's we'd been waiting in and carried my bag while we walked down the hallway. I wasn't watching where we were going as I started complaining to her.

"How rude. You'd think she'd get off her tush and show us to the principals office."

"Eherm." I turned and found a short bald man who I'm just going to assume is the man we'd come here to speak with.

"Apologies for being late in meeting with you, Mrs Overmeyer, Miss Twice. Please come this way."

"Ooooh. Do you thing he heard me, Mum?"

"Hush you. You are being too cavalier about this. He's a very important man here in our community. Don't be disrespectful."

"Yes, Mum. Sorry Mum."

Apart from the initial frown on the old man's face, he was polite and courteous to us both. Mum signed the forms she needed to, I was given a schedule and asked to make any necessary changes. I took one look at my original classes and realised all of the sports classes had to be dropped. I asked for a few different classes but Mr Shanton was concerned at the major changes I'd made, but when I showed him my knee, he understood. I picked up a business and a technology class and art history as well.

"At this point in time, Mr Shanton, I have all the credits I need to graduate from high school. Even if I don't complete these classes, I will still be testing out in two months time. That is still to be confirmed as the mid year applications for Mt Sommers University haven't closed yet and I'm still waiting to hear back from them about my acceptance."

He looked at my mum and saw her nodding and followed suit.

"OK, that sounds good. I'm glad to hear that a talented young lady such as yourself has planned well for your future. It pleases me to see the enthusiasm and charisma being exhibited here today. We, the staff and board of directors here at Mt Sommers Private school are looking forward to your future and all of the wonderful achievements you will no doubt bring to our school."

Yes, because I can bring all of those wonderful achievements to your stuck up school within two months... What a load of scripted bull. Bet he says that to all the pretty girls who come from influential families. I really want to roll my eyes at him, but I fake smile and nod instead.

I walked mum back to her car and waved her goodbye.

By that time, the second bell had rung, and according to my new revised schedule, I was due to be in an English class. On the second floor.

One lift ride and a turnaround later, I finally made it to class.

"Sorry, I'm a little late. My name is Lily Twice. I'm a new transfer." I handed my class schedule to the teacher to sign, which indicated she was happy to take me in her class. Ms Whitehorn smiled, signed my schedule and handed it back to me.

"Please take a seat anywhere you like, Ms Twice. We're on Shakespeare's Othello, fourth act." I take an empty seat by the windows to the side and settle in while the teacher continues her lecture.

"Emilia enters the room and, while Desdemona is despairing about the world and all that is wrong with it, Emilia brings a bit of progressive thinking for a woman of that time and is suggesting that it isn't that the world is what is wrong, but what we do with the wrong in the world." Ms Whitehorn pauses in her teaching and begins to quote the handmaiden as the character speaks to Desdemona, with a very British accent.

"Why, the wrong is but a wrong i' the world, and having the world for your labor, 'tis a wrong in your world, and you might quickly make it right." She stops and looks around the room, seeing who is listening and who isn't.

"OK, the questions up on the board are not written there just for your perusal. Answer them as best as you can in the half hour we have left. Homework for today is reading the final act of the play, and you will all need to remember your 2000 word essay is due end of next week. Less than two weeks before it is due." She turns around from writing the questions on the board and finds where I've placed myself in the class.

"Ms Twice? Please see after class for the syllabus for English this term and the assignments due. Exams will take only twenty percent of the total marks for this class, so I hope you like to write a lot, my dear."

"Thank you Ms Whitehorn," I reply sweetly. The teacher nods then turns to the rest of the class and admonishes them to complete the work and begin their essays.

Half an hour later the bells rings. I've handed a one page answer to the questions on the board with the rest of the class and I'm waiting for Ms Whitehorn to hand over the class work.

"Here you are, I do hope that you can catch up on an already busy term. It is a shame you didn't join the class at the beginning of the year."

"Thank you, Ms Whitehorn. That's OK. I am confident I can complete what you require to pass the class, no problem. Um..." I pause and wonder if I can get away with the next request. I look at the notes and see that you have us studying a series of essays for the rest of the term. "Could you please give me the last assignment so I can do everything all at once?"

"Sure, my dear." I think she didn't really expect me to ask that, and probably didn't really think I'd be able to catch up anyway. She rummages around the folders on her desk, then in the resource box beside it and pulls out a copy of the next assignment due at the end of the term.

"If you have any questions, please let me know. I'm always available in the English faculty resource room every afternoon. Now, you better get to you next class." Then she collects all of her folders, stuffs them into the box she'd just rummaged around in, then heads out of class.