Every year, Buttercombe Academy held its annual Orientation Ceremony in the cafeteria.
Freshmen scurried from their dorm rooms and into the main building, where they were greeted with the heady aromas and hearty ambiance that they would eventually learn could only come from a Buttercombe establishment. They had an entire culinary coalition working day and night to ensure that this graduating class was greeted with only the best that they had to offer, and not a morsel was going to waste.
But more on that later.
Hunter and Amber entered the great hall like two tiny fish leaving their stream and entering a pond for the first time, bug eyed in wonder at the vastness of something as simple as the eatery in what was to be their home for the next four years. Buttercombe had made it very clear in the short time that they had been enrolled that they spared no expense in the satisfaction of their students, but this defied expectations entirely.
Long tables lined the rear wall, far far back underneath the ornate windows that overlooked the courtyard (Hunter recognized from the brochure) and a quarter-way through the room before stopping at a fashionable island partition. On the other side, smaller more personable tables dotted the area before giving way to more long ones along the back wall. An army of girls, none much older or younger than herself Hunter guessed, lined up to enter one side of a much smaller room while others exited out the opposite side with their trays piled high.
Further along the other side of the cafeteria, there were more tables. That's where Hunter and Amber sat. Better to risk sitting there with some unfamiliar girls than being separated filling in empty spots on the long tables that gave a better view of the small stage that had been erected, along with a podium, along the partition.
"Ladies?" a voice, thick and exhausted, plead into the microphone, "Let's get everyone seated, now."
Hunter's mind boggled at the size of Ms. Polluck every time she saw her. This was the first time she'd seen her standing up, too. Her mountainous middle kept her a full foot and a half away from the comparatively dinky microphone that had been clipped onto the wood. Instead, a wireless model had been attached to her ear and wrapped around her tennis-ball cheeks. The podium was clearly for support, as the fat woman leaned into it and gripped it on either side with her feeble flabby grip.
"Who's that?" Amber whispered into her roommate's ear, amazement and amusement evident in her voice
"That's Ms. Polluck." Hunter answered, "She's the headmistress."
"I thought the Asian lady was the headmistress?"
With everyone still gathering their meals, finding their friends, and about half of them wondering the same thing as Amber, it was understandable that it took some time for the cafeteria to grow quiet. Even still, Ms. Polluck's puffy face grew red at the thought of standing for so long under her own power. The smell of food wafting in the air agitated her, beckoning her to come down and join her students for a little orientation snack. Never the less, somehow her great struggle went unabated.
"Welcome, Freshmen." Ms. Polluck said in her huffy voice after everything had quieted down (enough) "To Buttercombe Academy. Your home, and alma mater, for what will hopefully be the most memorable four years of your life."
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