His Blonde Little Secret

Chapter 2.

I weave through the crowds while keeping my eyes trained on the floor. After years of practise, I've memorised the route to my locker without having to check my surroundings. I like to think it's one of my special abilities. 

A pair of brightly coloured trainers suddenly come into my view which causes me to stop abruptly. My heart jolts inside my chest as I slowly lift my head up. 

"Why are you walking like that?" The question is asked with a teasing tone behind it. When my eyes flicker up, I stop breathing entirely. I'm standing in front of someone I never thought I'd have to talk to. I immediately stumble back to create distance between us. 

There is no way this is happening to me... 

It's Beatrice Walden. 

Beatrice Walden has had everything she's ever wanted since she could talk. She's popular, beautiful, and a class A bitch. The students of Heywood High are either terrified of her, or want to be her. Beatrice is always surrounded by her popular peers who are petrified of stepping out of line in case they end up dealing with Beatrice's wrath. 

She stares at you blankly before reaching up to run her fingers through her perfectly curled dark locks. Her makeup is immaculately done as usual, and she looks the epitome of confidence. Her pink glossy lips curl up in distaste at the sight of me. 

"You need to watch where you're going." She says firmly while her dark eyes narrow in my direction. She glares at me from head to toe and I feel myself disappear into the wall. I shrink into myself, and stare back at her with a look of terror on my face. My tongue feels like it's being held hostage which stops me from apologising or responding to Beatrice's comment. 

"Hello? I'm talking to you. What are you? Mute?" Beatrice mocks me. Her dark eyes burn with amusement as she registers the look on my face. Her two friends standing either side of her snicker at my silence. My cheeks begin to burn bright red, and my heart feels like it's pounding out of my chest. 

"Does she speak English? Hello?"

A hand is waved in front of my face and all three of them burst into laughter. The sound of it fills the air, and bounces off the walls. It's almost as if the entire building is mocking me for my inability to stand up for myself. Before I endure anymore humiliation, I dodge to the side and scurry down the hallway. My legs tremble under my weight but the tight hold on my chest begins to release. 

The bell suddenly rings throughout the school to signal the start of the day. Crowds of students pass me as my footsteps come to a slow halt. Once the corridor is empty, I place my sweaty palms on the lockers, and lower my head. My eyes flutter closed, and I focus on regulating my breathing. 

The concentration it takes to breathe normally makes me question why something so easy to others is so difficult for me to do. My biggest fear is being unable to breathe in a crowd. The feeling of my throat tightening until my lungs feel like their on fire is terrifying. 

My eyes glaze over with tears as I silently wish I had someone to help me. A friend to lean on, cry to, purge all of my feelings and emotions to without being judged. I crave the simple human connection with a burning passion. There's a permanent hole in my heart that's caused by loneliness. Whenever Dad or Jedd question my lack of friends, I shrug it off and act like it doesn't phase me. The harsh reality of the situation is that I'm drowning in a dark sea of loneliness and pain.