3:29pm:
The school day finishes in precisely eleven minutes and I tidy my desk whilst waiting. Every pencil and pen and ruler is parallel on my desk; the computer mouse is neatly looped around the computer and my headphones lay in the middle of my desk. My mind keeps travelling to my encounter in the morning: the Chloe girl.
No matter how hard I try, I cannot erase her from my mind. I hope I don't fall for her. I would rather never see her beautiful face again than to fall for her and become enshrouded with pain when she leaves me. She will leave me and I will be left with nothing. Like my parents did. Like my sister might. Like Chloe will if I let her in.
3:40pm:
The bell rings and I jump; I snatch my headphones off of my table and I see that something is taped on the bottom of them. A note.
"Coffee tomorrow morning? I'd really love to get to know you better Becs. Text me on 07123 456 789
C xox"
Thoughts of Chloe flood through my mind again. She must've written the note during the break that I was in the staff room making coffee; I only visit the staff room at break because it's usually empty and no human interaction is needed. I hold the precious note in the palm of my hand and stare at the loopy handwriting.
Nobody has called me 'Becs' since my parents; my sister doesn't even call me Becs. For some reason, I didn't nind Chloe calling me Becs. Something in my heart was telling me to give her a shot, but a small voice in the back of my head whispers that I should keep myself to myself. I steadily make my way to the carpark whilst I ponder.
4:56pm:
I arrive home and leave my keys on the small hook that seems tailor-made for my height. My small bungalow seems bland, even for someone who is colourblind; there are no pictures or paintings anywhere because there would be no point. There are some pieces of art but I usually take them down after a while. My house is plain and simple and I would not have it any other way.
I take eight paces and turn left at the door. My music room: the place where I can be alone with my thoughts. My fingers stroke the black and white keys of the piano, admiring the beauty. Whilst I play, I usually take time to think about the future and reflect on the day. I take a deep breath and begin to play.
Saint-Saëns fills my ears and I ponder. Should I text Chloe back? She is the only member of staff that has bothered to come and talk to me before; perhaps I should give her a shot. What would my sister do? She would probably risk a thousand hearts being broken for that beautiful woman. But would I? I am not my sister. I think of Chloe's alluring smile and charming charac-
Shit. I hear my finger slip on the wrong note and struggle to correct it. The F natural I play instead of the F sharp interupts my thoughts. I think of my sister again, and of my Chloe predicament. My left hand reaches up to touch the angel wing necklace. Courage. I need courage.
