Ways to Mend a Broken Heart [WattpadPrize14]

Two

                                    Two:

Millions of poems and songs have been written about having a broken heart and wars have even been fought because of heartbreak.

The movies made everything seem so easy. They gave false hope and made every girl feel like a princess. They showed that everyone was going to find their prince and live happily ever after. It was all rubbish. But that didn’t stop me from following the second step in my list.

Watch every single movie ever made to forget about your pitiful, real life and get involved in the reel one.

But I knew then that watching movies till 2 in the morning would not get me anywhere. It would just get me late to school and consequently, a ticket to the principal’s office. Oh, how right I was.

“Ms. Pire, would you like to explain why the gardener saw you trying to push yourself in through the bathroom window?” Mrs. Crest sneered, looking at me through rimless glasses, sternly.

Mrs. Crest was known to be the most evil principal ever and standing in front of her and getting shouted at was something that no one ever wanted.

Out of all the explanations I could come up with, I went with, “I had to feed my pet piranha.”

That legitimately made complete to no sense. Her small, ruby coloured lips turned into scowl.

“Detention for you, Ms. Pire.” She pulled out a detention slip and scribbled a few things before handing it to me. I gaped at the pink piece of paper held in her nimble, bony hands. She urged them in my direction.

With great difficulty, and astonishment, could I believe that I had received my first detention because I ran late. It wasn’t like it was going to affect my grade at all, but I preferred to keep my report squeaky clean.

I gripped the slip in my hand, and was about to turn around when Mrs. Crest stopped me again.

“I will not appreciate any more snooping around, Ms. Pire. I hope you know that,” she said, while arranging a few loose sheets of paper on her desk. I nodded and walked out of the room.

The entire corridor was deathly silent, and the sound of my sandals slapping against the tiled floor seemed to be magnified by a rather great multiple. I hurried to my first class room and pushed open the door.

“Ah, Ms. Pire, thank you for joining us today,” my French teacher said, sarcastically.

The entire class’ heads turned in my direction and I mumbled a small apology before shuffling to my seat and dropping my bag to the side. I didn’t need to look to feel the gaze of someone’s eyes at the back of my neck.

Randall.

I tried to shake the constant heavy feeling off, but to no such avail. It remained set. When Mademoiselle Humphrey turned around to write something on the board, my head slowly and hesitantly moved towards the back.