A new school, new friends, a new love interest and a fresh start. Everything in Ella's life was going to plan.
That is, however, until her teacher strikes up an interest in her and changes her world as she knows it.
Ripe with romance, sex, scandal a...
It's Saturday morning and I wake up absolutely exhausted. I tossed and turned all last night, my spinning head keeping me awake until early hours of the morning.
The ... thing ... with Mr Irwin happened on Monday and since then, he hasn't spoken to me at all, or even made eye contact, and completely ignored me in class. So far, class has gone like this; I walk in, my head down, and sit in silence whilst Mr Irwin rambles on about literature as I scribble down notes, then get out of there as quickly as I can after the bell rings. The tension is so strong you could cut it with a knife, but both of us refuse to acknowledge it.
Part of me wants to talk to him, just for a sense of closure. But the other, more rational part of me knows I should be focusing on more important things, like Luke.
We've been inseparable all week, we even have a date planned for today. We have those talks that seem to last forever. We both were born in Australia, we both like 80's rock bands, old movies, and, well, each other.
Over just one week I also seem to have made extremely tight friendships with Michael, Sammy and Zoe, and it feels like we are just meant to be friends. And it feels amazing.
I stretch my arms up and heave a tired yawn, when my phone vibrates on my bedside table. A text from Luke.
From: Luke-Hey El. We still on for today?
To: Luke- Yep. Meet you at Rust at 11.
From: Luke- Can't wait. ❤️
I jump out of bed and throw on my outfit I organised last night in excitement.
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I love skirts.
For makeup, I keep it simple. Concealer to cover the fact I barely slept thinking about the smell of my teachers cologne when he whispered in my ear, just totally normal stuff. Gloss to plump up my lips incase Luke decided to lay one on me, something I certainly wouldn't complain about. Mascara so I can bat my lashes when he hopefully compliments me, and a butterfly clip to tame my unruly hair.
I gather my phone and purse, and happily jog downstairs to the front door.
"Ella? Where you going?" He calls from the kitchen as I begin to turn the door handle.
I stop and freeze, squeezing my eyes shut. Damnit, I thought he was out.
"I thought you were going to work today?" I ask as he approaches me, holding a spatula in his hand. The smell of bacon and eggs cooking wafts through the doorway from the kitchen.
