Author's Note: Hello! This is my first Waterloo Road fic. I've loved the show since series 1, but I've never been inspired to write a fic based on it until now – so I hope it's not terrible! It took me ages to work out which year certain characters would be in because they seem to just make it up sometimes! In series 7 they said Scout was born in 1994, meaning she will turn 18 this year and making her a year 13! But then Imogen's Mum said she's in year 12, although she's in the same classes as Scout. I am very confused! Basically, I've decided that it's easier to put them in year 12, because it works better for me! ;)

Also, I should mention that this fic is set during series 8, although the time scale might be a little different in some parts, so take it with a pinch of salt!

Anyway, reviews are massively appreciated, so let me know if you like it – constructive criticism is always welcome too!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Waterloo Road characters or storylines, but I do own Hollie Evans :)


She dressed in her new uniform; tight white shirt and short black skirt. She tied the burgundy and gold tie in a loose knot. She pulled on her burgundy cardigan with its large golden school badge. Her eyes swept over her reflection and she leant forwards; touching up her dark eye makeup and scraping her hair back messily. Finally satisfied, smiling slightly as she thought about the fact that she would never have got away with leaving the house looking like this before, she turned away and picked up the large backpack on the bed. Slinging it over her shoulder and picking up the holdall beside it, she glanced around the room to make sure she had everything. Then she left the room, hearing the door click loudly behind her.

"You're checking out, Miss Evans?" The receptionist behind her desk asked in a thick Glaswegian accent. The girl nodded in response, putting her key card on the surface and dropping several notes to cover her bill beside it. The receptionist could hardly have been much older than she was. "On behalf of the Premier Inn Greenock I hope you had a pleasant stay and we hope to see you back soon."

"I doubt it." The girl muttered under her breath, turning and stalking out of the reception.

She walked through the automatic doors into the bright, mid-September morning and hesitated for a moment on the curb, glancing both ways along the road. The directions to the school had been handed to her along with her train tickets and hotel reservation the day before, but she had somehow mislaid them. It happened more often than not. Her ability to loose important things was inherent; phone, keys, documents, family.

After considering her options, she turned left and began to walk. She was going to be late, that was obvious, but there was no point standing around like a damsel in distress. She was never going to find Waterloo Road School if she just waited for someone to come and help her. Besides, acting like a damsel in distress had never been her style.

It was almost eleven o'clock by the time she eventually found the school. She stood at the gates, staring at the building with a mixture of apprehension and apathy. It was just another school building, nothing special or out of the ordinary. And yet she'd been sent all the way to Scotland for this.

With a deep sigh, she hoisted the backpack more securely onto her back and adjusted her grip on the holdall. Then she walked purposefully through the gates and towards the reception. Opening the door, she followed the signs to the headmaster's office and knocked firmly.

A pretty young woman opened it almost instantly, looking the teenager up and down with a look bordering on distain. "Can I help you?"

"Hollie Evans, I'm here to see Mr Barnes… Bayne? Whatever. I'm here to see the headmaster, anyway." The teenager said with a shrug, not seeming remotely bothered that she couldn't remember the name of the man she was there to see.

"Mr Byrne." The woman corrected, moving through the small office and knocking on a second door, motioning for Hollie to follow her. After a couple of moments, that door opened as well. "Hollie Evans here to see you."

"Ah…" The man stepped forwards, glancing at his watch. "We were expecting you for morning registration."

"Yeah, sorry, I got a bit lost on the way from the hotel." Hollie explained with a shrug, moving past him into the office and sitting in the chair in front of his desk.

"Right, well, you've missed the first few weeks of the term, so you'll have to catch up–"

"I did go to school before I came to Scotland, you know." The teenager said, raising an eyebrow. "I have got GCSEs. I'm not thick."

The headmaster looked at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Quite. What I meant to say was that you'll have to catch up with where your classmates are, in case you're at a different point in your studies. I should also remind you that here at Waterloo Road we don't accept attitude like that as a valid way of addressing anyone; pupils or staff."

"Sorry, sir. I just… I only got here last night and I'm a bit tired."

Obviously satisfied with her apology, he nodded. "Right, well, here's your timetable. Break time finishes at twenty past eleven, so you may as well head to your next class. I see you've only missed a double free period this morning. You can leave your bags outside with Janeece and pick them up at the end of the day when someone will show you to the School House."

"Right." The teenager nodded as well. She didn't look overly convinced by the safety of leaving her possessions with the young woman outside the office, but neither did she see the point in carting them round with her all day. It wasn't as though she had much worth stealing anyway.

The timetable indicated that after break she had English, so Hollie headed in the vague direction of the English block, as marked out by signposts on the walls. She wasn't even sure why she had taken English. There was no denying that she was good at it; it was always her highest graded subject, probably because she loved books. But she associated it with things she did her best to forget. Nevertheless, she continued to study it, almost as link to those things she tried to ignore. It was like prodding at a wound to stop it ever properly healing.

Joining the queue waiting outside the English classroom, Hollie kept her head down, staring at her shoes. She wasn't shy; she had just never been the sort of person who wanted to draw attention to herself. It was easier to blend into the background, especially when you were the new girl. After a couple of moments, someone tapped her on the shoulder and she turned to see who was trying to attract her attention.

"Hi…?"

"Hi, you must be new. I'm Imogen." A tall, incredibly pale girl with longish dark hair said, her accent giving away the fact she was a local.

"Yeah, I'm Hollie. I just moved here from London. And by just, I mean last night." She said with a small smile.

"You come with your family?" Imogen asked interestedly.

Hollie shook her head. "I ain't got no family." At the expression on the other girl's face, she smiled and elaborated slightly; just enough to stop her asking questions. "I lived with my grandparents, but then my Granddad died and Nan had to go into a care home. One of our neighbours knew someone who had something to do with this place so here I am."

"What about your parents?" The boy standing beside Imogen asked.

Noticing Hollie's questioning glance, the Scottish girl smiled. "This is Connor."

"Hi…" She smiled, warily. "I dunno who my dad is and my mum… I only see her two or three times a year. I don't think she's exactly the maternal type. Last time I saw her was at Granddad's funeral."

Connor opened his mouth to ask another question, presumably one the new girl wouldn't want to answer, but the teacher appeared at that moment and he turned away abruptly. She opened the classroom door and the students filed in after her. Hollie hesitated as Connor took the seat beside Imogen and looked for a seat. The only one left was right at the front of the class and she reluctantly took it, pulling out a notebook, pen and the copy of North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell that she'd been told to bring.

"Hello, you must be Hollie." The teacher said kindly, perching on the desk and smiling. "I'm Mrs Mulgrew. Anything you need to know, don't hesitate to ask."

Hollie smiled tightly as the teacher stood up and moved to address the whole class. She started by saying she hoped everyone had enjoyed their weekends, before launching into the lesson. As time passed, the teenager found that she had forgotten she was the newcomer, the girl with no friends, fully submerging herself in the lesson and the novel they were studying.

Before she knew it, the bell rang and Hollie gathered up her things. She glanced at her timetable and saw that she had History next. Helplessly, she went to ask Imogen where the History classroom was. Luckily, Connor had the same lesson and offered to take her. They made small talk on the way there and as they waited for the lesson to begin.

Imogen took Hollie firmly under her wing, introducing her to people at lunchtime. When the end of school bell rang, Imogen accompanied her new friend to the headmaster's office where she collected her things.

"The House Mistress, Ms Croft, will be here to pick you up any minute." Mr Byrne informed her with a smile, before disappearing back into his office.

"I better get going." Imogen said apologetically. "I hope you settle in alright. See you tomorrow."

Hollie smiled and nodded, watching as she walked away. There was nothing to do but sit on the chairs that ran along the wall and wait for someone to come and get her.

It was fifteen minutes before Ms Croft appeared to show her to the School House. She was a friendly, middle-aged woman who chattered to Hollie as they walked, asking her all about herself and her old school. The teenager answered as vaguely she could without being rude, not wanting to talk much about her family. When she mentioned that her Grandfather had recently died, Ms Croft turned to her with sympathy-filled eyes.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, flower." She gushed, putting an arm around the teenager. "That must have been hard, especially being sent up here where you don't know anyone."

Hollie shrugged. "He was 77 and it was better than him suffering anymore. Nan's better off in the care home, too. They can look after her better than I could. It's actually a bit of a relief."

"Didn't your parents help at all?" Ms Croft asked nosily.

The teenager tensed. "All I've ever got from my dad was my surname." She muttered. "And mum… she didn't get on with my grandparents. Besides, she wasn't really the family-orientated type."

"Wasn't?"

"Isn't…" Hollie clarified hastily.

"Where is she now? Might she come and visit?"

Shrugging, the girl looked at the ground, wishing the conversation was over. "I doubt it. She came to Granddad's funeral, but Nan wouldn't even speak to her. I don't think she knows I'm here."

From the wave of hostility radiating off the teenager Ms Croft sensed that Hollie didn't want to discuss her family any further and changed the subject, chattering about the other students who she would be living with at the School House. Hollie recognised some of the names of teenagers that Imogen had introduced her to earlier, but there were others that were new to her.

"Here we are!" Ms Croft announced suddenly, coming to a halt. "Home sweet home."

Hollie followed her up the driveway and through the front door slowly. Several pairs of eyes watched her as she climbed the staircase after the House Mistress who was leading her to the room that had been set aside for her. It was a large, airy room on the second floor at the back of the house.

The woman smiled, staying with one hand on the doorknob as the teenager dropped her things onto the bed. "Here we are, pet. I'll leave you to settle in and make yourself at home. Dinner's at seven, alright?"

Once she was alone in her new bedroom, the sixteen-year-old looked around and sighed. At her grandparents' house she had had a tiny bedroom, just big enough for a narrow single bed, a wardrobe and a chair. It had been enough for her, however, because she didn't have much to fill it. That was why she only had the two bags with her now; it was everything she owned. It was a depressing thought that almost seventeen years could be summed up by the contents of an oversized rucksack, a holdall and a school bag.

For Hollie's fifteenth birthday, her mum had bought her a laptop. She hadn't used it much at home – at her grandparents' house – because they refused to get the Internet. For her last birthday, her mum had bought her an iPod. At Christmas she'd bought her an iPhone. Hollie's Nan had muttered about the fact that she was making up for being an absentee mother by throwing money at the teenager and promptly confiscated each present until her granddaughter gently convinced her to let her have them back.

Now, she pulled the laptop out of her rucksack and set it up on the desk against the wall, plugging in the charger and switching it on. As she waited for it to boot up, Hollie unpacked the rest of her things, tidying them neatly away into their proper places. When it was done, she neatly folded the rucksack and holdall and stored them on top of the wardrobe. Looking around, the teenager realised that the room still looked uninhibited.