Prom Queen ｡ Michael Langdon

7 - CULTS NOT CLUBS

     But that night, Carrie didn't imagine or remember the moments that made her rageful. No, that night her mind conjured something else, someone that made her heart fill with splendour. That night Carrie Moore imagined that Michael Langdon was sitting across from her on the bed, his blond curls tousled from sleep and blue eyes that were both so light and so dark simultaneously gazing at her, a small smirk picking up the corner of his lips.

     Carrie closed her eyes, letting out a fragile exhale, letting the scene in her mind dance behind her closed eyelids. Carrie turned her palms around, facing them upwards instinctively, and her skin felt alive, sparking with energy and power. Michael was nodding now, encouraging her onwards, reaching out to brush his fingers across her jawline. A secret smile worked at Carrie's lip and when she opened her eyes to spy Michael on her bed, no one was there. But the books were hovering around her face now, but that wasn't the only thing hovering in the air. Carrie's whole bed was floating in the air, nearly four feet off the floorboards. A gasp fell from her lips as she leaned slightly over the edge of her bed and she laughed, completely in awe. She had never moved so many objects before and certainly never that high before. And there wasn't a speck of anger or rage tainting her blood at that moment and she knew that was because of Michael Langdon. 

 —   

     It was a Thursday when Winn Nelson came for Carrie Moore again. Winn Nelson was the same boy that had pushed Carrie in the hallway weeks ago, but this time, the blonde girl didn't have Ava Gold around to help pick her up.

     The school day had ended, which usually meant that Carrie was in the safe zone, but bullying and harassment didn't really have a safe zone. She was padding down the school steps, just outside the entrance. She had a spring in her step, eager to see if Michael was waiting by the tree for her. Her backpack bounded between her shoulder blades and Carrie was almost skipping towards the school gate, just a little up ahead.

     She'd had a good day. Her classes were a breeze and Ava had met her at the bleachers, where they shared lunch together while Ava chatted about the Republic of Pirates that ruled Nassau on Providence Island in the early 1700s. Carrie had barely gotten a word in, but she didn't mind—she liked listening to Ava Gold chat on and chat about her fascination with pirates. It wasn't often that Carrie had a good day at school, and she had nearly gotten away with it. Nearly. 

     There was a cluster of Westfield High's popular teenagers chilling at the bottom of the stairs, including Winn Nelson, Christabelle Slater, Deliah Snell and Tommy Ross. They were laughing and joking around, sharing around a silver flask, but Carrie didn't notice any of this, for she was too busy trying to look over the crowds of teenagers to see if Michael Langdon was by the tree.

     She was passing them when something struck against her ankle and she fell forward hard, her balance completely vanishing her as the earth leapt up to met her. Carrie's bones slapped against the concrete paving and her reflexes weren't fast enough, so her hands didn't reach out in time to stop her face from colliding with the ground. Pain echoed through Carrie's body and her long skirt flashed up, revealing her skin, more skin than she had ever let the light of day see. Laughter spiked through the air, poisonous and malevolent.

     "Jesus, Winn!" Tommy Ross muttered out, but he didn't unravel himself from Deliah to help her up. 

     "Sorry, didn't see you there, Crazy Carrie," Winn Nelson sniggered out, pulling his ankle backwards. "But I definitely see you now." This was a whole new level of mortification for Carrie Moore. No one had never seen under her skirt before and her heart was smashing against her ribcage painfully as she hastily pushed her skirt back over her stinging knees.