Chapter one

5.5K 91 42
                                    

The trees blew in the wind with their red and yellow leaves falling slowly onto the soft grass making an autumnal blanket of colour. Gazing up at the sky a grey hue starts to form, great...hopefully it won't rain until i get home. I've always hated the rain, yes it's relaxing but ever since an accident in year seven I've tried my best to avoid it. On occasion I still have flashbacks of myself slipping over revealing my bubble pink knickers. Carrying on staring out the window trying to divert my eyes from the platinum hair the colours of the leaves are hypnotising as they frame my crushes head.

"Miss! Addison is looking at me weirdly!" Blair called out and flipped her long ice blonde hair, her curls somehow bouncing majestically as she turned round to look at me. My heart fluttered as her eyes pierce into mine. Why would she shout that to the whole class? Is she trying to be childish or maybe she just wants to embarrass me? Either way I can feel an erratic pounding in my chest, my heart feeling like it's tied into a knot as I try to respond.

"I wasn't! I was looking out the window," I protested timidly, trying to not let my signature crimson blush coax across my cheeks because my crush is looking at me. My crush actually acknowledged my existence. I try to take deep breaths. No one knows that I like Blair nor will they ever, Blair has a boyfriend and is the most popular girl in the school because of her looks and because she's the main cheerleader, our school has a cheerleader, and it seems that anyone who joins it deems themselves superior. The head teacher is so overjoyed by the traction her cheerleaders get she tries to integrate it into our school football games but it doesn't really have the same effect. Willing myself not to blush, I avert her gaze, instead looking at the teacher.

Miss Dawson looked at me and adjusted her glasses "Both of you stop being so childish, I don't care if you were looking at her or out the window, you should be paying attention to the lesson! If you want to act like you're in year three, then I'll treat you like it. Both of you have warnings, I expect better behaviour from secondary school students,'' Miss Dawson snapped with a loud sigh.

Looking down at my notes not wanting to be shouted at anymore. Taking deep breaths my palm presses against my heart, rubbing it five times. Exhaling a deep breath, I try to focus back onto the lesson but it's harder now I feel like people are watching me. My hands start going numb making it hard to do work, feeling a pins and needle sensation the room feels as if it's closing it. Counting in my head I will myself to focus on that instead but to no avail I start to press my thumbs to my fingers counting hiding my hands under the desk. Feeling my breathing start to calm I still keep my head down but try to pick up my pen and manage to do some work although my writing is more crooked than usual looking more like a chicken scratch than legible words.

The lesson went agonisingly slow, my eyes fixed on the clock waiting for another antagonising second to pass. Eventually it ended with the blaring ring of the bell. I collected up my books ready for the end of the day to come but I still had lunch and then my last lesson to go. All I want to do is go home and snuggle up into bed listening to some of my favourite bands. I could already picture my serene Radiohead session until Miss Dawson interrupts my thoughts.

"Miss Grey?" The teacher asked as I turned to walk out the door, hastily, I stopped in my tracks looking back at the teacher.

"Yes, Miss?" I questioned warily, walking up to her.

"Your homework? You've not submitted it online or in physical form," she stated. Great. The one day I forgot my homework. My mind races to this morning if I could just explain that it's on my desk or maybe say I can hand it in tomorrow but all I can fathom is, "Would you believe me if I told you my dog ate it?" Seeing her pure disatfation is answer enough. Looking down at my beat up school shoes I admire all the imperfections while anxiously waiting for her reply. I don't even realise I've been biting my nail before I look up to hear her speak.

My crush on the cheerleader (edited)Where stories live. Discover now