The Unbroken

IX

Never in my life have I experienced a day that has dragged on as much as this one. After my class, I chose to sit in the library; now it feels as though I've been in here for a lifetime and it isn't even time to leave yet. I could scream from how tediously slow the day has passed. If it wasn't for the constant peering eyes of the librarian, I would have taken a nap to make the hours tick by faster.

At this moment, I am on the brink of clawing out my eyes just for the sake of entertainment. I'd do anything right now for a spark of excitement. Don't care what it is, a fire, kidnapping, murder, anything to make me not want to slip from existence.

"Miss Smith." The authoritative voice yanks me from the trance of staring at a scratch on the wall. "Yes, Miss Walt?" It only takes me a second to plaster on a polite smile. The woman carefully places herself in the chair opposite, her legs instantly cross while leaning to one side for a superior look. Her hands clasp together while a tight grin tugs on her stern cheeks.

"How are you feeling?" I wish it was the first time someone has said that to me today, everyone seems to suddenly be concerned over my health. "Pretty good. I've had the odd headache, but they're easy enough to ignore."

"Well, it's truly good news that you've recovered this quickly. We had to move your exams up a couple of weeks and didn't want to risk you missing them." Of course that's why she's here. She's the exam manager, she wouldn't want to mess up my precious grades with a tiny problem in my physical and mental condition.

"I had a peek at your last mock's, it was rather impressive." Rather? I completed the thing in under an hour and definitely answered everything correctly, it was a simple exam. "You were two marks short of one hundred percent. You forgot to answer a question on the back page."

"I'll make sure to double check next time." Her voice is grating.

A kind of cocky smirk rolls over her lips. It isn't like she's done anything to earn a congratulations, so the reasoning for her pride is all from her self-centred nature. "Good good. We've booked you in with the resits from last year, so that gives you about two weeks."

"No problem, I'll have another flick through the textbook." I think the tone gives her a hint that I want her to leave me alone. "I don't believe a five minute skim of the content is enough. This is a difficult exam, Law isn't an easy subject that you can learn overnight. What did you do for your other exams?"

"Glanced over the textbooks. I've gotten ninety-nine or more on all exams I've taken since nursery, I've got this. And it's Applied Law, a BTEC. I did Law A level last year, passing with one hundred. Please excuse me, I have a friend to pick up." I can't hold back the sass oozing from every syllable.

A kind wave smacks her in the face while I descend the stairs, earning me a high five from one of the teacher's at the bottom who equally hates her. Mr Hughit is a wonderful man, Art teacher's are typically the most fun.

Glancing at the device in hand, I notice I have five minutes until classes end. With my current problems, I don't want to get stuck in a crowd, so I head straight out to the parking lot. Some student's manage to wiggle out of class early to get good seats on the bus, other's leave on time and get stuck in a mass of rushing teenagers.

Reaching the beauty, my hands instantly jump into automatic mode in order to remove all the chains and locks I use to ease my paranoia. Years of experience has led to my subconscious training itself in the arts of mechanics and other academic skills that are practical, excluding the arts and obviously cooking.

Crouching, my nimble fingers work expertly to unclip the engine blocker just as a familiar pair of trainers appear in my line of sight. Instinctively, I toss up the second set of keys that match the box so he can take out our gear.