don't call me that √

Chapter 21: This is it

I spent all night trying to finish up the poem. The dreaded bloody hell poem my teacher assigned me to do. It was about society and how corrupted it is in this generation compared to centuries before.

I have to present it today. In front of a group of important people from world known colleges. Not that it really mattered to me whether they would like it or not.

No, the real problem at hand was Hunter.

Stupid Hunter who made me feel like throwing up blood and unicorns.

During the all nighter I pulled to finish up the poem, I kept writing his name by accident. Literally every sentence all of a sudden there his name was in my sloppy cursive handwriting.

I couldn't keep my head straight when I finished my poem so I ended up writing another one about him. By the time I was done with it, my alarm clock rung loudly and I stuffed my poem into my bag.

I got dressed in just black jeans,some band shirt I found in my drawer and my usual black converse. Not bothering that much whether I looked good,I ran out the door and got into Bart's van.

Him and I have gotten really close too like me and Dorris. Dallas kept having these secret meet ups with whom he calls possibility of being my soulmate.

Per se that soulmates existed, he didn't have to be so secretive about who it is.

When we reached school,I thanked him for the ride and rushed to Professor D's office. His door had his name written on those small hanging whiteboards with Sharpie in bold letters. Inside his office was what you would expect from an English teacher. There were cupboards filled with books that you never knew were written. They were never dusty so you knew he'd either spend time cleaning or reading all of them.

The walls were for some reason orange but the sunset type of orange.

Agnes knocked on the door three times and there was a stern come in.

"Professor?" She said softly.

"Ah yes,Agnes. I hope you have your poem for me"

"Here it is" She handed him the folded piece of paper and avoided eye contact.

"Are you nervous? For when you have to present it? You shouldn't be, I'm sure you would be marvellous" he smiled all a sudden cheerily whilst unfolding the poem and skimmed through.

"I guess I am quite a bit. Any advice?"

Professor took off his glasses and intertwined his fingers,looking at Agnes. "Don't doubt yourself"

She couldn't help but snort and was about to roll her eyes when the professor continued.

"Is what any other cheesy teacher would say but I am not them. Agnes, it never matters what you hear or what you see, it's all the matter of the heart" he said and Agnes tilted her head in confusion.

"Now go on, you have class. Just come backstage in the theater by 12,alright?"

"Yeah- I mean yes,sure Professor" Agnes shuffled on her feet and got out of his office. Thinking back to what he said. Matter of the heart. She wasn't sure how to take it but it somehow hit a nerve. A very strong nerve.

Agnes tapped her fingers on her desk in a fast pace. She was nervous to say the least. She did this too many times. Her awful stage fright was kicking in and she can't seem to control herself.

She felt like bursting through walls and run around while juggling knives. Although at the same time she felt like she could dig a hole and bury herself in it.