Thread: Under the Cross [Google & Cosmic]

When was the last time she was in a skirt? Let alone a pleated, navy blue one that spoke of pig-tails and pink bows? Seven? or was it younger? It made her eye twitch a little bit to think about it. However, she did have to admit, she didn't look half bad. Hailee Burton was of average height, perhaps a bit on the petite side, being 5'4 and a little more scrawny than she would like. However, considering the few alterations she made to her uniform, she felt like it might not cramp up her style too bad. The skirt was supposed to go no shorter than her finger-tips, but it had nothing in the rule book on how tight it could be. So she adjusted it a little, or well a lot, tighter bringing out the delicate roundness of her hips and thighs not to mention her butt just enough to piss off the teachers. Her white button-up blouse had stricter rules, it had to be loose-fitting and buttoned modestly so she instead bleached it as long as she could, thinning the fabric enough to where her dark black bikini top showed. Cause well, the rules didn't mention otherwise. There was no rules as far as shoes went as long as they were comfortable. Well, she was most at ease in her black combat boots, so those should count. She even was wearing the white socks like they requested it. So if anyone bitched at her about dress code, she not only had the rule book to rub in their faces, but attire to kick their ass in She tightened the balls on her snakebites as she walked out of her room, leather school bag in hand, heading for campus. It was a short walk, but still she wished she had a car. Preferably some huge gas-guzzler that was decked out in upside down pentagrams. It wasn't even about her own personal beliefs, as much as trying to piss off as many people as she could at this point. That was the only reason why she chose Saint Francis anyway. Real nuns, real catholics, real laughs. Course, there was no telling how long she would be staying either. Foster parents were fickle like that. One minute buying you Christmas presents, the next packing your stuff in a plastic bag and hauling you back down to DHS. Hailee had to admit though, the elderly couple she was staying with were pretty tight if they were willing to send her to private school. Even though it was because they were afraid she'd light another house on fire without help. She snickered to herself shaking her head, where she came from, help was either cheap liquor or anti-depressants. Not Jesus. However she just put her music in, and tuned out the traffic in both her head and on the road until her feet took her to the large prison like building painted puke orange. She got on to campus with a groan seeing the typical perky, preppy, upper class we are the future of the world kids. Certainly at least half of it was her own cynicism, but what annoyed her the most was the fact that even at a Catholic school--she was the new kid. Meaning, that even though she looked like a bit of a whore, she people were probably either A talking about the new 'lost soul' who had to take a tour yesterday during classes to get familiar with the campus and her teachers or B wouldn't even notice her cause she was new and dressed like a slut. She honestly wasn't sure which one was more annoying at the moment. She fiddled with her earring, a small nervous habit that betrayed her passive exterior, and walked into the building trying her best not to feel miserable.