The Truth About the Girl With the Broken Smile [Ouran Host Club] (Editing)

Wax and Wire

I dragged my feet down the halls, keeping my head low. I felt ridiculous. The words ‘fluffy’ and ‘frilly’ popped into my head as I did a slow twirl. The obnoxious dress fluttered around my ankles. A faint smile cracked across my face. Not bad. I did another twirl, again, the dress danced along at the hem.

                “Hey, this is kinda fun.” I muttered to myself, feeling the sudden urge to spin again. This time, I wasn’t so lucky. I forgot my lack of coordination and felt gravity whipping my feet out from underneath me sending me hurling to the ground. I hit the marble floor with a light thud. I rubbed the raw side of my back. “Man, I’m glad no one witnessed that.”

                “Maybe you’ve spoken too soon.” Someone chuckled. Heat flushed to my cheeks.

Busted.

                “So, I’m guessing you saw that epic wipeout.” I sighed brushing off the yellow monstrosity.

                “I’ve seen better.” He said flatly. I nodded.

                “I’ve done better.” I admitted. A pale hand lowered to me. I glanced up. A man with jet-black hair, deep black eyes, smudge-free glasses, and a lopsided smile beamed down at me. My blood ran cold.

                “You’re a bit of a klutz, aren’t you?”

                I laughed. “That’s only the understatement of the year.”

                “Ah, I see.”

                I pursed my lips as he heaved me back to my feet. I smiled. “Thanks. But, the rest of the student body can wait to find out about my klutziness, can’t they?”

                He gave me a look that was playful and sinister all at once. I stumbled back a few inches. Somehow, I felt he wasn’t going to let this one go.

                “We’ll see, Miss India Valentine.”

                I felt my face twist in confusion. “How did yo-“

                “I know everything about this school. Let’s just say I do my research.” Without saying another word, he crammed his hands into his pockets and strode away. I bit my lip. Interesting school. Itchy dress. I scratched my back. This would be so much easier if I were a guy.

***

                The chattering made me feel even more alone. I felt like a ghost, no one gave me a second look as I glided from class to class, invisible. I tried my best to smile, to be civil, but all I got in return were twisted faces and giggling. I shook my head. It was lunch, and my only escape was in the form of an abandoned music room. I stared up at the large door, gaping. My hand twitched, my lips curved. Why did this feel like a trap? I forced the thought out of my head. The quiet seemed like a haven, and maybe I could get some singing done without looking like a complete fool. I nodded to myself, trying to convince myself this was for the best, but I couldn’t shake the feeling.

This seemed so dangerous.

                In one grand effort, I threw the doors open.

                “Welcome!” The room erupted. I was taken aback.

                “Ah, fair maiden. You are lovelier than a thousand roses.” A blonde headed boy with bright purple-blue eyes smiled.