Doing What The Romans Do.

“A bookworm,” I scuffed, and Florence gave a little smile at my remark. Seeing these ladies made me ease up; misery indeed loves company, doesn’t it? With my chest out and chin in, I began to mimic Florence’s posture and walk as I made my way to the glass door.
Night had fallen, a mistress came around informing us to freshen up before dinner, and like little robots, we queued to execute the set task. This place was far different from Asempa SHS. The facilities were advanced, we had cubicles for bathing, a heater in the bathroom, privacy when bathing, robes, assigned rooms in our dorms, which I shared with 3 others whom I had named, Akiti, Atikelenkele, and Olonge. The food here was not like back home. There are options to choose from, unlike at Asempa, where you eat what the pantry has to offer you in a day. We also ate to our fulfilment. I guess change is not always a bad thing.
We had a week to ourselves, which we used to settle in and get to know our environment and one another. Akiti, Atikelenkele, Olonge, and I had now become quite close. They seem to come from wealthy homes, but are as clueless about life in boarding school like I am. I guess, it doesn’t matter the family anyone comes from, the only thing that makes us different is the information we have as individuals, and at this point, I don’t think any of us has much information about our surroundings.