cryptic ⋙ calum hood

1. Cassie

a/n might be slightly triggering

Breathe.

I had to constantly remind myself of the simple task which should have came naturally. I sat at the first table that was void of students, feeling exposed and alone. I felt eyes on me as I busied myself with a book and an apple, my eyes scanning the pages but not processing the information before them. This lunch period would go by excruciatingly slow, and with each bite I grew increasingly nauseous. The fruit remained half eaten as I got up from my table to dispose of it, colliding with someone head on and falling on my arse. My cheeks immediately flushed and I heard laughter.

"You fucking idiot!" The dark haired boy on the ground before me groaned, looking up at his blond friend who was clutching his stomach, doubled over in laughter. I stood up, surveying the pasta stains on my white jumper and the food on the floor.

"Sorry about that." The blond one looked at me, amusement clear in his voice. I forced a smile and gave him a little nod before grabbing my bag and book and avoiding eye contact with the people around us, who gave the scene their full attention. I made a beeline for the exit and heaved a sigh of relief once in the empty hallway. I was walking slowly, glancing at every door hoping to find a bathroom.

"Hey!" A voice chirped from behind me and I turned to find pasta boy striding towards me, a goofy smile plastered on his face. "Sorry about getting pasta on you. My friend pushed me." I nodded politely In acknowledgment and he fell into step beside me. "You're new right? Cassie? We're in English together."

"Yeah I am." I gave him a small smile.

"Do you need help finding the bathroom?" He offered.

"That'd be very much appreciated," I let out a small laugh. He led us down the rest of the hallway and took a right, stopping in front of the girls room.

"Sorry again. I hope you can get the stains out." He smirked.

"Thanks..." I trailed off, squinting a bit at him.

"Calum," he smiled warmly. "Nice to meet you."

"You too. Ill see you in English," I gave a small wave and found myself alone in the bathroom, scrubbing a stain I knew was permanent.

***

"Cassandra, how was school?" My mum asked as she cut her steak.

"It's a nice place, and the people seem friendly."

"Don't get too friendly with them again." My dad grumbled and I stiffened.

"Dan, watch yourself," my mother warned.

He hadn't been alright since we moved, his concern being that everything that they heard about me at my previous school was true. I was guilty until proven innocent instead of vise versa. My parents were highly acclaimed surgeons, and I knew I embarrassed them. Moving away when things got rough for me was my father's idea, but he remained grumpy about it despite that fact. Avoiding my problems was something I had picked up from my parents and their inability to accept that anything was wrong.

I stayed silent throughout the rest of dinner, and I was thankful for the fact that we didn't have sit down dinners often since my parents were usually at work. I muttered something about homework before retreating to my bedroom for the rest of the night. We had been in this house for a week now, which gave me that much of a break before having to face my new peers. I was determined to not let my past affect me; to make a good impression and stay guarded. I now knew what people were capable of, and I didn't want to make any more mistakes. You could only run for so long before you had to give up.

It had only been my first day, and I had already been humiliated in front of the majority of my class. I had already been laughed at, and I felt degraded and very unwilling to return to school the next day. My head began spinning with thoughts of people laughing at my expense, and I suddenly felt very sick. I laid down on my bed and pulled up the sleeve that concealed my secret from the world. Only two fresh cuts graced my pale skin, along with a plentiful amount of scars. I closed my eyes, breathing ruggedly.

'You're overreacting,' I assured myself, trying to regulate my breathing. When I finally succeeded, I opened my eyes and stared at the red lines, so perfectly parallel as if done with great patience. It was quite the opposite though, and in those moments of weakness I found myself with shaking hands and a clouded mind. It was something I was determined to quit.

It was an addiction more than anything else, not something I enjoyed doing but I had no control over it. It was something the old Cassandra Brooks did though, and I would make sure it stopped before anyone at Garrison high found out. I was a different person, and I wouldn't let my past get in the way.

i promise the chapters will get longer, bear with me :)