xv | Discidium

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"You keep insisting I listen to your proposition,
I dismiss them all no offence."

quindecim

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quindecim.

discidium

The division of something into constituent or distinct elements.

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AFTER MY CONVERSATION WITH MISS LEVA, I HAD TO ENDURE AN AWKWARD ENGLISH LESSON IN WHICH I TRIED TO AVOID QUESTIONING STARES AND TRIED TO HAVE A DISCREET CONVERSATION WITH ANASTASIA.

It was uncomfortable, but luckily the people who were in my English class were the ones closest to me and knew not to ask any questions. Lunch was just me and Ms Leva speaking as we usually did and catching up, considering it had been a while since we spoke properly.

I spent the last two periods of school in the study room, planning a history essay on Mary's foreign policy in preparation for the mocks. I sat at the back of the study room, ignoring any whispers by putting my headphones in and trying to focus completely on my essay. It was easier said than done, however, when I looked up to see Nate sat in front of me, an apologetic look on his face.

"Can we talk?" He asked quietly. I looked behind him to see occasional glances from almost everybody in the room.

I looked down at my half completed essay, "I don't know. Mocks are next week and I really need to revise," I sighed, using my essay as an excuse to avoid speaking to him. I stand by what I had said a couple of hours ago. I had nothing to say to him.

"Lise, please," he begged. "I know you're angry but I'm just asking for five minutes."

I sighed, looking down at the page of writing, knowing that there was no way I could finish it with Chase and Nate on my mind. "Fine," I agreed, "but five minutes because I really need to get back to this. And not in here," I whispered, packing everything into my bag and leaving that in the corner of the study, only taking my phone with me.

Nate nodded, and the two of us walked out of the study, undoubtedly with the eyes of the entire room on us. We walked aimlessly around the school, not sure where we could sit and have some privacy.

"I'm sorry," he apologised, almost immediately after we were alone.

I shrugged, "there's nothing to apologise for. I'm not the one with the cut lip or the bruises." I was walking at a faster pace than him, and was a few steps ahead, not necessarily wanting to have his conversation.

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