“Whatever you say, Harrison,” I shout back and if looks could kill, I would be dying an agonising death right about now.
“See what I mean, we should keep her,” says Elijah, his eyes sparkling and he’s practically bouncing with pent up joy.
I stand up, I’ve had enough of people my own age. I mean they could be a couple years older, but I don’t care, I just want to be left alone.
“No one is keeping me, I don’t want the drama and I really don’t need any friends,” I say, and I swear it lights something in Noah’s eyes just before he takes my plate and devours my uneaten meal.
Two
Day three and I feel sick to my stomach, I’m not sure why I’m feeling like this, but something feels, off. I gaze around my room for the rest of this year and other than a picture of Elliott that I keep by my bed – and my journal that I keep stashed in my now empty suitcase - it’s entirely devoid of anything personal.
There’s a double bed, not that we’re allowed to have anyone sleep in our bed or probably even in our room with us, but I’ve seen the odd girl sneaking out of an impromptu sleepover. There’s a dark oak wardrobe standing proud next to the door of my en suite which houses both a bath and a walk-in shower and then there’s a little sitting area. A sofa and an armchair, positioned around a coffee table with a sideboard off to the sidewall with all the makings for a tea, coffee or even a hot chocolate.
On the weekend we’re allowed to wear ‘civilian’ clothes, but other than that it’s a strict requirement that we must always wear the required uniform to help keep the school standards. Some nonsense like that anyway, I hate that I don’t forget anything.
I stand in the shower, turning the jets up as hot as I can handle and let the water cascade over me. I climb out after twenty minutes and just stare at my reflection.
I hate being pretty, I’m not even lying. I’ve always drawn people’s attention, either from bullies because of the way my mind works, or from the guys because they wanted to have me hanging on their arm. Not interested.
I dry myself off and throw my clothes on. I hate uniforms, but I guess it could be worse.
In my reflection I see a girl with dark brown, wavy hair. Full plump lips and dark brown eyes. I’m not tanned but I’m not lily white in my complexion either. I used to get bullied because I didn’t have double D’s but I’m content with my B cup and toned frame. I’m not like the other girls, I’m not chasing some guy or even looking to bag myself a boyfriend. Occasionally I’ll put in a little effort and make myself look nice but that’s for me, no one else.
I take one last look in the mirror, disdainfully taking in the uniform before pulling open my door, and I come up short as I look at the ground just in front of my door. Why is there a red One written on the floor? I’m standing here looking at it but the meaning behind it hasn’t dawned on me all of a sudden.
“Nice one cheese girl,” says Britney as she walks past giggling with her fellow Shepherd girls, I roll my eyes as I close my door and head to class.
It’s just a number, no big deal, right?
Harrison has already claimed the central seat, his eyes boring into me as I enter the room. It really doesn’t bother me, a chair is a chair, the only location I would choose is one that is far away from here. I drop down in the row just before his, and one seat to the right.
I’m sure I can hear his teeth grinding, but he doesn’t know me, and I won’t give in to a few measly threats.
I pull out my textbook and wait for the teacher to arrive, it’s history today and we’re focusing on the Second World War. I don’t really need to be here, I’ve already worked my way through the reading material so what more is there for me to learn.
I’ve already been to my form room and ignored the silly girls. Ivy was in there as well but she didn’t try to talk to me again, thankfully, but my luck is coming to an end.
“Hey pretty girl,” I look up into Elijah’s smiling face with his bright eyes—is he ever miserable?
What can I say, I’m not all that keen on happy people. No one can be that happy all the time, it screams pretend to me, at least you know where you stand with the miserable ones.
“Are you ever off?” I ask whilst rolling my eyes.
“Where’s the fun in that? Come on little Hen, give me a chance. You never know, you might actually like me.”
“Don’t waste your breath Eli, she won’t be here for much longer,” says Octavia, the only one who hasn’t said a thing to me. So I don’t have a reason to dislike her, yet.
“Shove off hoebag and don’t even think about calling me that,” he replies, dropping down into the chair next to me.
I’m not going to smile as it will only encourage him, though the urge to smile is disappearing as Amias drops into the seat in front of me and Ivy claims the one behind me.
“Do you guys not have anything better to do?”
“Not yet,” replies Amias, his eyes are dark, and I don’t just mean the colour, there’s a depth to them that screams out to me but I’ll fight it with everything I have.
“I take it you’re all in year twelve as well then,” I mutter, and Amias smirks.
“Nope.”
I don’t have the chance to question him further as Miss Lewiston has come in the room. Her eyes narrow as she takes in Amias and a cocky smirk is spreading across his face.
“Amias Sallow, what are you doing in my classroom? Leave this instant.”
“Come on Maggie, you know I can’t leave these two alone. Who knows what trouble they’ll get up to,” he replies, and Elijah is laughing at me as I sit here with my mouth agape.
“That is Miss Lewiston to you, young man, and I am sure they are capable of keeping themselves out of trouble for the next few hours, now get out before I take this any further.”
“Yes ma’am, see you around Henleigh.” And then he’s strolling out of the door without a care in the world. Now he’s definitely pretending.
The class is over and I’m relieved. I mean it encourages us to research and determine fact from fiction which is good training for me. But it was still a pointless endeavour in my opinion.
I don’t even hesitate, pushing out of my chair and heading for the door, right as a shoulder shoves into me and knocks me to the side.
“Trash leaves last,” says Chelsea with a smirk before strutting out of the class.
“Yeah cheese girl, learn your place,” shoots Britney as she drags her boyfriend behind her, she has a vice grip on him.
“Enjoy your last day,” comes from Octavia as she flutters her lashes at Harrison. In return he barges his way past her almost knocking the silly little twerp off her feet.
I’m sniggering as I leave and I’m pretending that I don’t notice Elijah following on behind or how Ivy gives me a weird look right before she goes into her next class and I go into mine.
We don’t really have much of a requirement for a locker we’re issued one nevertheless, but I’m not sure what to make of it. I have one, great. I can store my laptop and books and whatever else I need inside. No, the thing I don’t understand is why mine has been painted grey when all the others are cream. It’s a hodgepodge of a job to be sure, I just don’t understand the symbolism behind it.