YWS Appreciation Club

Abby was used to being awoken by the early morning bagpipe class, not by the sound of her cousin snoring beside her. Although, she had to admit, the two sounded rather the same. They were both ear-splitting, and they both sounded like dying geese.
"Wake up, golden goose." Abby shook her cousin's shoulders. The nickname was appropriate, and she smiled to herself for thinking of it. Leanna's hair was gold, and she sounded like a goose. Golden goose.
"What did you just call me?" A muffled voice came from within the pillow, and a second later Leanna was sitting beside Abby.
"Golden goose, suits you perfectly, eh?"
"It's the morning," she rubbed her puffy eyes, "and you're brain isn't awake yet, so I won't punch you for it. But please don't ever call me that again, or I'll call you oompa loompa."
Abby laughed, thinking about the rotten breakfast which was probably waiting for them. "I wish we were in a chocolate factory right now."
When they got downstairs, the twenty dining table chairs were almost full up, indicating that they must have slept in. When the cook emerged, a plate of green pancakes in her hands, Abby's suspicions were confirmed.
"This is the third plate," she chastised them. "You're lucky you're getting anything at all, girls, coming down so late."
"Give the girl a break, Mrs 'Donald, she's got a visitor to look after." The matron, sitting at the far end of the table, smiled warmly at the girls as they took their seats. "An' by the looks of it, young Leanna didn't get much sleep."
"Oh, I did," Leanna nodded in thanks as she was passed a plate and fork, "I'm just cursed to have puffy eyes for eternity."
"It's the cold air, your American eyes aren't used to it." Mrs MacDonald plonked two pancakes on each of the girls' plates, before setting the rest of the meal in the middle of the table, where it disappeared in seconds.
"Excuse me," Abby began. It certainly hadn't escaped her notice that the pancakes were green, the deep of green of clover fields, and she was a little sceptical as to the food's quality. "Why are the pancakes green?"
Her question was met by fits of laughter from all the other boarders, though Leanna looked just as puzzled.
"You silly squirrel," Mrs MacDonald shook her head in disbelief, "already forgotten what day it is?"
The matron saved her from embarrassment, because she really had forgotten. "Saint Patrick's Day, Abby."
"There'll be no little green men handing out coins to you, that's for sure." One girl giggled.
Abby forced herself to smile, though she could feel her face turning red as a tomato. That said, it could've been something in the pancakes that made her do that. Though the off-colouring was explained, they still tasted just as gruesome as all the cook's other meals, even if no one had the bravery to say so.
"So what do you do on Saint Patrick's Day?" Leanna came to the rescue, taking the attention off her embarrassed cousin. "My family doesn't really celebrate it it America, not properly, I'm sure."
"Well, at the morning assembly..." the matron paused to swallow her food, "there'll be students sharing stories of magic and legends." She added proudly, "Some of it is their own writing too."
"Then you'll have ter sit through the ususal stories of Pat," Mrs MacDonald added grumpily. Abby knew the woman hated having to sit through assemblies when she'd much rather be cleaning up the mess the girl's would probably leave on the table.
The matron looked out the window at the darkening sky. "If it rains, we might even get a rainbow." Leanna grinned at this, devouring the last of her pancake, she loved rainbows.
"Don't worry," Abby nudged her shoulder, "it always rains over here."
The twenty-odd ladies around the table all jumped at once as a shriek sounded from outside. It was a ghastly scream, as if someone were in pain. But they all settled back down after a second; everyone knew it was only the morning bagpipe class starting up again.