Chapter 22 | I'm. . . Busy

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Elena's P.O.V.

On Monday everything seemed to go back to normal. People would stop staring and whisper about me like I had woken up from the dead - but I can't say the same thing about my zombie-looks in the morning.

"Hey, I haven't heard from you since Friday, what have you been up to?" Hazel bumped me into the blue lockers, making me narrow my eyes in a small glare.

Oh, you know, I have just casually befriended a stalker prince and his friends.

"Netflix," I simply answered and closed the locker.

My friend sighed with a roll of her eye, "Of course, why am I not surprised?"

A smile broke out, painting my entire face with a cheeky gleam. If you only knew the entire story. . .

"But on a serious note," Hazel looked at me as we walked down the hall. "We should do something tonight, it's been a while since we had some real fun."

"Is my company not enough for you, Ms. Phillips?" I gasped and covered my heart playfully, "Is it because of my hair? Or because I prefer Converse over Vans?"

"What has shoe brands to do with- you know what, forget it. It's impossible to get anything through your stupid head." She quickened her pace so I almost had to run to catch up to her.

"Your face is stupid," was the only thing I managed to come up with, which I silently flinched at. "And mind you, I have an uptight schedule. You can even consider as a grown up with a job."

She laughed. And it wasn't just a little chuckle with the lifetime of some seconds - no, no, no. Hazel was loud and pointing at me as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

My annoyance had developed to an entirely new level, so with a stone dead glare aimed at my friend, I walked away, leaving her to catch up to me.

"Okay, I'm done," she chuckled quietly, looking up at my hair. "And also, that was a nice, messy bun you have there," she pointed at my creation. "How many tries did it take this time?"

"Eight." My eyes traveled up to the most frustrating hairstyle ever invented.

People with long hair, don't lie; getting a perfectly messy bun without looking like a stupid unicorn is just as difficult as getting the government to listen to you.

"Well, at least you beat your old record with - what was it again? Oh, yeah, fifteen." Hazel clapped my shoulder, "You're making progress, Elly."

And then there are the immortal ones who can do the impossible. Like my friend over here with her hair thicker than her skull, and that says more than a picture could ever do.

I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall, a smirk playing itself on my lips due to the taste of my words. "Don't you have a class you have to attend to, like, on the other side of the school?"

Her eyes widened in the size of the sun, and she sprinted away along with her curses that followed her. "Scheiße!"

Hazel and her German, I shook my head amusedly, watching the girl push people away in a frantic matter.

"Is your friend alright?" The voice behind me almost had me jump out of my skin, but when my attention whipped to the tall boy, a sigh escaped my lips.

"Can I help you with something, Adam?" Was my response as I pushed myself off the wall.

He frowned, causing regret to thrive in my chest at how rude I must've sounded like. "No, not really," his words were followed by his hand scratching the back of his neck. "But I am wondering where you were on Friday."

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