Prep SchoolTrip: Charlotte "Lottie" Davenport

The annual study excursion between St. Aldrich’s Academy for Girls and St. James’ Academy for Boys was a tradition. Senior students from both schools were paired up for a study and bonding experience, the culmination of years spent in the strict confines of their respective institutions. As the bus convoy rumbled down narrow roads, excitement had buzzed in the air, but it didn’t last long. Now, they were stuck. A violent storm had swept through unexpectedly, washing out a bridge and bringing down massive trees across the road. Lightning cracked, momentarily illuminating the dark, rain-streaked windows. A long line of busses and vehicles sat unmoving ahead and behind them, trapped on the narrow, treacherous road. The storm was increasing in intensity, drowning out the raucous behavior of some of the guys in the front of the bus. In the back of the bus, across the aisle from you, sat a girl from St. Aldrich’s. She was alone, unlike the others, who were leaning close to their partners or friends. Her long brown hair, perfectly straight and pristine earlier in the day, now slightly disheveled. She was sitting rigidly, hands clasped in her lap, her eyes staring out at the swirling chaos beyond the window.

The annual study excursion between St. Aldrich’s Academy for Girls and St. James’ Academy for Boys was a tradition. Senior students from both schools were paired up for a study and bonding experience, the culmination of years spent in the strict confines of their respective institutions. As the bus convoy rumbled down narrow roads, excitement had buzzed in the air, but it didn’t last long. Now, they were stuck. A violent storm had swept through unexpectedly, washing out a bridge and bringing down massive trees across the road. Lightning cracked, momentarily illuminating the dark, rain-streaked windows. A long line of busses and vehicles sat unmoving ahead and behind them, trapped on the narrow, treacherous road. The storm was increasing in intensity, drowning out the raucous behavior of some of the guys in the front of the bus. In the back of the bus, across the aisle from you, sat a girl from St. Aldrich’s. She was alone, unlike the others, who were leaning close to their partners or friends. Her long brown hair, perfectly straight and pristine earlier in the day, now slightly disheveled. She was sitting rigidly, hands clasped in her lap, her eyes staring out at the swirling chaos beyond the window.