BFFs with Eleanor Calder FYI GF of Louis Tomlinson

Chapter 3 Close Call

Before I start the chapter I wanna warn you guys that there's some music and a photo that goes with this chapter!

Pic of Dylan on da side -->

Chapter 3 Close Call

Christina's POV:

Ms. Barden glared down on the screen. Please don't be Eleanor, please don't be Eleanor, PLEASE DON'T BE ELEANOR, I chanted in my head. "Oh it's your Mother," said Ms. Barden squinting down at the little light up screen. I let out a breathe I wasn't aware I was holding. Ms. Barden gave me the phone hastily, "She says you're to go to the office to get your violin." I glanced at the class; they had been anticipating an embarrassing text. I grabbed my phone from Ms. Barden's hand. I carefully turned my phone off for good measure. I pocketed my phone again; making sure it could not be seen except for the faint shape of a rectangle in my pocket.

Just as Ms. Barden walked to her desk, "Ms. Barden?" The speaker called out. "Yes?" She replied. "Please send Christina McClure to the office to get her violin." Replied the secretary in the office. Ms. Barden quickly took out a blue pass from her desk and began scribbling information on to it. I walked to the desk carefully; as if mines surrounded the area and if I stepped on one, it would blow up the whole school. "TEACHERS PLEASE SEND A STUDENT TO THE OFFICE TO PICK UP THE PERMISSION FORMS FOR THE FIELDTRIP NEXT WEDNESDAY," announced the speaker on the wall. "You might as well also pick up the permission forms," said Ms. Barden handing me my blue hall pass. I nodded and glanced back at my stuff.

Dylan smiled at me, it meant, "Yeah, I'll watch your stuff for you." I turned to the door and confidently walked out. "Hey, what'cha doin' girl?" asked Zoe linking arms with me. She had short brown wavy hair; she was petite, and bipolar. When you're with Zoe, you don't know how she'll react next. I chose my words carefully, "Same as you." She nodded her head and gave me a semi-high looking smile, "Oh yeah." I quickened my pace a bit, and removed my arm from hers; I waved a little before dashing down the halls. I opened a door that read, 'OFFICE'. "I'M SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE BUT THE PHONES ARE CURRENTLY DOWN," the speaker blasted out one last time.

I walked up to the long desk which separated us, from the secretaries. "Name," asked a short and plump woman about mid 50s, with a name tag that read, 'White'. "Ms. Barden, please," I said. She looked up smiling; I guess she didn't get many polite students. "Here you go dear," she said in a nicer tone than before. "Thank you," I said taking a thick stack of paper jointed together by a paperclip that was surely going to fall off. 

"And Mrs. White, my name is Christina McClure. I think my Mom dropped off my violin here for me," I said. "Oh yes, she just dropped it off," she said bending down. She quickly straightened her back and handed me my violin over the desk. "Thank you, again," I replied taking my violin. "Oh, it was nothing dear," she told me. I quickly slung my violin case over my right shoulder and carried the stack of paper tucked to my chest so it wouldn't come out. Zoe opened the door for me. "Thanks," I said. "No prob'," she replied. I walked out of the office and into the hall. In front of the office were lockers.

I took a left at the lockers and kept going straight till there was a fork in the hallway. I kept going straight though. I counted the lockers, 301, 302, 303, 304, 305, 306, 307. My locker was number 308. I took the knob and first twisted it three times to the right to clear it if anyone tried to open my locker. Then I twist it to the left on 35, then two times to the right on 25, then finally on the left to 40. I pulled open my locker. I dumped my violin in my locker. I made sure it as securely in and then slammed the locker. I hastily walked to Ms. Barden's classroom.

I opened the door; it creaked a little. The whole class turned to the stranger walking in. "I presume you dropped off your violin," said Ms. Barden. "Um, yeah," I replied. I gave her the thick stack of permission forms. I took my seat next to Dylan. He frowned and passed me a note. It was from a guy by the look of the handwriting on the cover.