alizeh :: mgc

८ - 'how do you not know my name?'

8 - 'how do you not know my name?'

Michael picked Alizeh up from the counsellor's office no later than 3:30. She had her head pressed against the wall, and looked exhausted. A textbook was propped open on her legs, and her stood a little closer to see what was written. A Level Chemistry. He smiled, shaking his head and approaching her, looking up and down the room for the counsellor, who, luckily, wasn't there. He touched her shoulder, but she didn't move. Peering at her closely, he realised, to his surprise, she was asleep. Her breaths were deep, her chest rising and falling slowly, and the textbook nearly dropping from her lap. He caught it before it fell on the floor, and she woke up when his hand brushed her leg.

"Michael?" she said, then her eyes met the light of the counsellor's office. She sat up quickly. "Oh shit, Miss is going to kill me."

"Why?" He shut the textbook, and kept it underneath his arm.

"She told me to revise, since I'm off time table. I fell asleep, God, I'm in trouble." She flattened her hair against her head, taking off her glasses and wiping them clean on the edge of her hoodie. She sighed, rubbing her forehead with the back of her hand. She closed her eyes, and said softly, "I got into a fight. I got into a fight. I started it. Oh, my God."

"Hey, Ali." Michael took her hand, and helped her up. "It's okay. What did he do?" Nobody told him what provokes it. Everything he knew came from Tilly, who sprinted towards the art room and panted, 'Ali got in a fight', before breaking off again.

She hesitated, quick enough for only herself to notice. "He said something offensive, I got mad. Same old," she lied.

He raised an eyebrow. "It's obviously not 'same old' if you punched him."

"I have a temper." She shrugged lopsidedly. Before he could ask further, she cut him off. "Why are you here?"

"I'm walking you home, silly."

"But I usually go to the bus stop with Aisha."

He feigned a hurt expression. "Oh, I get it. You prefer her over me. The girl you knew for a week and a half over the boy you knew for a year. It's okay. I get it." He began to walk away, and Alizeh tugged at his sleeve before he left, not picking up his humour.

"No! Michael, it's not like that!"

"I'm kidding." He started to laugh, and so did she. They closed the office door behind them and walked down the corridor together. It was mostly empty, save for some of the teachers milling around. Alizeh kept her hood over her head so nobody saw her; Michael put his up so she didn't feel left out. "Are you still feeling sick?"

She shook her head, then her stomach dropped. "My bag. My journal. I left them in the canteen. My Oyster card is in my bag."

Michael grinned, and she realised he had it slung over his shoulder. She sighed in relief and took it from him, filing through it and taking out her card. "Aisha forgot to give it to you at lunch, so she just gave it to me. From what I understood, she has a club after school."

"How did she tell you?"

As they passed the English department, he mimicked what she did: pointed at the banner for 'English for Foreign Students Club'. Alizeh nodded, and once they got outside, she shivered. The temperature was much cooler than she remembered it being, but she was conscious that her raw state and nerves probably made everything much more than it was. The bus stop wasn't too far from the school, but she still stumbled every now and then. Michael kept his arm around her shoulder so she didn't fall.