She woke from a dream, remembering in an instant what it had entailed and then suddenly finding herself unable to do so. She recalled that she had enjoyed the dream, whatever it had been, and that it hadn't been the purest dream an eighteen-year old girl could have, but the face of the person in it was blurred in her memory...
Amy sighed, checked her phone for the time and sat up, regretting it. Lying down again, she groaned and also tried to remember what had happened the night before. Nineteenth birthday parties were becoming more frequent among her peers, and she was feeling the effects. However, Amy would be waiting longer than anyone in her year for her own, which meant that once there were more people who could get into clubs and pubs than not, she would be staying at home. At this moment in time she did not particularly care.
Twenty minutes later she reluctantly decided to start getting ready for her first day back at the school she had been a student of for six years; this was her seventh, her final year. She reminded herself of this fact and it motivated her – the better she did, the more likely she would be out of this dump of a town in nine month's time! Academic subjects at school were not her strong point but she loved drama, despite not really getting along with her teacher in the subject. This was an understatement – Mr Roberts was a cold, unsympathetic hard-ass and there was no love lost between himself and Amy. But this year she would show him she could act, really act and she would get an A grade for drama A Level, even if it meant doing every resit under the sun.
Grabbing some toast, she stepped out of her front door and banged it behind her, before wincing and wishing she had taken some paracetomol for her headache. School wasn't far from her house so she got there with plenty of time to spare and decided to use this time to go and speak to Mr Roberts about her intentions for this year – she was not going to take any more crap from him. She didn't know if he'd be in school yet but she had time to waste and thought she may as well waste it on him, seeing as it was for her benefit. So she made her way through the dismal corridors and found the drama department, which was effectively one large, grand, black room with long black curtains draped around the walls. Very dramatic, she thought, smiling at the familiarity of the room and smoothing her skirt.
Suddenly she realised she was nervous, and instinctively swallowed. Her throat felt dry and her pulse was racing, but she didn't know why; nothing had changed since she was last there...except, that is, for Amy herself. The previous year, she had been a little chubby – to say the least – and she had done a lot of work in the summertime to slim down her figure. She had new clothes, new shoes and a new hairstyle and although she wasn't feeling her best that morning, she looked incredible.
Amy listened out for any noise from the office and heard none, so she pushed open the door just to check. No-one there. She peered back into the darkened studio, with the desk in the centre on which she knew Mr Roberts would be perching in around half an hour, then looked back into the office. It was small, messy and disorganised but there was passion in that small space, scripts stacked high in piles and set designs pinned to the walls. Amy stood and absorbed room, not noticing the department door creak open and Mr Roberts stepping inside.
After a moment she felt eyes on her and turned, seeing Mr Roberts examining her before realising who she was. She could see he was taken aback and she smiled to herself, silently blessing her mother's laziness and apathy about lending Amy her gym membership card; Amy liked to look good as much as the next person and she knew he was impressed. But she had to remember why she was there.
