It's Monday morning and I am currently trying to muster up the strength to be bothered waking up, my only motivation being that I have some English and history tests today. I go to a boarding school which is fine for me because it means I only get to go back home to my toxic primary school bullies and neglective mother around twice a year. Unfortunately I am about to have to deal with them next week when break starts again. I woke up in a petty and snappy mood today which isn't rare but probably should be mentioned. I get up and change out of my baggy shirt which I had slept in. I then pop on my white school blouse as well as my dark blue skirt and blazer with a tie which most students dislike. As soon as I walk out of my room, I remember in a panic that I also have homework due for Math class today. I start to freak out and gather my notes from my locker which is surprisingly clean if the random empty box of tissues and a lukewarm juice primer count as that. I hear a bang on the locker next to me as someone leans dramatically and loudly, might I say, onto it. My eyes widen in frustration as I try to get out this one piece of paper without ripping it out of my damned locker.
"Um, hello?" A voice says irritably next to me. UH I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS TODAY.
"FUCK OFF" I say rudely, without turning around. The boy standing next to me frowns and lifts his eyebrow.
"Wow, I know that girls get pissed and emotional sometimes but I guess that's just your personality." Miles Fairchild says, smirking. I want to slap him. Maybe I should.
"I'm only like this when you're around. Now leave me the fuck alone before I..."
Miles grabs my tie and uses it to pull me closer as he cuts me off.
"Before you what, huh?" I look at his smug face and push him but not hard enough for a teacher to tell me off. I can't stand when people try to get all physically intimidating with me.
"Weak," He scoffed and walked away. Honestly, what is his problem? He shows up at my locker and when I'm trying to study just to insult me and annoy me nearly everyday and I didn't want to deal with it right now. I know I shouldn't have threatened him because I probably started something that quite frankly is completely unnecessary. I honestly don't know what I did to him to deserve this passive aggressive bullying, maybe he just needs to grow up.
As I sit down in my assigned seat for English, I hear a scoff behind me. I ignore it knowing perfectly well it is aimed at me and that reacting is going to make this worse. I feel a harsh tap on my shoulder but yet again I ignore the person callously trying to get my attention.
Halfway during the class I feel a sharp jab in my back. I swing around in my chair and look at Fairchild calmly because If I did anything but, It would be like a reward for him.
"Yes?" I say politely even though I am seconds from strangling him.
"Nothing," He smirks, shrugging as he spins a pair of scissors on his finger in an almost menacing manner.
"Um Miss Clinton, chatting in class is very disrespectful, I am in the middle of an important lecture that is going to help you with your exams if you even care about those," Miss Boutine says in an annoying high voice which makes me want to scream.
"Sorry Miss," I say, internally boiling.
"Would you like to share with the class what conversation made you so keen on interrupting us?" She says, pursing her lips together and raising her eyebrows expectantly at me. The whole class is looking down, most are daydreaming or scribbling notes that Miss Boutine hadn't rubbed of the white board yet. Only fifteen or so people's attention is on me but it is still enough for me to immediately panic.
"I-"
"She was giving me this note Miss," Fairchild says, his friends snickering in the back of class as he stands up and hands her the note. Oh god, what does it say? I watch as Miss Boutine's face turns from expectant to full on shock and displeasure.
"Talk to me after Class Miss Clinton" She says sternly, glaring at me. I can feel Fairchild smirking at me as Miss Boutine shakes her head angrily before going back to teaching. Of course Fairchild waited for us to be in the class with the worst teacher possible. She scolded me for breathing too quietly once, she said it made her on edge because she thought I wasn't breathing but to be honest I think she just wanted to find something to yell at me for. I end up going up to her after class and explaining to her that I hadn't written the message. She seemed like she half believed me and half didn't which is bad because I still don't know what was written on that note. When I asked she said she had forgotten and that she threw it out. I end up trudging to my next class, defeated.
After I get through an extremely boring history lesson in which I finished the test fairly quickly (surprisingly), I start to make my way to my locker. Someone (Fairchild probably) had left water under my locker which was there for me to slip on or something which didn't work because I have eyes. Except for the fact that there was quite literally a small puddle of water under my locker, the only thing that was actually "dangerous" was my temper. When I opened my locker a bunch of stuff fell out and a couple of papers fell into the water. I aggressively shove the contents of my locker back in and slam it shut. Then I squat down and use my pointer finger and thumb to pick up the soggy pieces of paper that were (thank god) not that important. I proceed to rush over to the bin nearby whilst cupping the bottom of the paper so that it doesn't drip everywhere, I pop the nearly disintegrated paper into the bin and glare at Fairchild who is smirking and shaking his head whilst leaning on his locker which lucky for me happens to be across from mine. I casually walk up to him trying to mask my rage.
"I don't know why you always act like one of those annoying cliché movie bullies but it's probably because you have shit going on in your life that your too cowardly to deal with. Could you just for once think about how childish your acting and just...I don't even know, just stop using me to take all your built up anger out on." I stand there with my hands clenched at my sides and a sickly sweet/sarcastic smile on my face, courtesy of my attitude and anger issues. He just looks at me with no expression on his face. He tilts his head down to look at me fixedly. The eye contact was honestly making me uncomfortable. He doesn't break eye contact. His lips are unparted...wait how did I know that? Did I...no! Why the fuck was I looking at his lips? Did he notice me looking at them? Is he trying to psych me out because its fucking working.
"If you have no words to say you don't have to just stare at me like that Christ!" I said after a while, rolling my eyes.
"Why? Am I making you nervous," He leans in closer "Hm?" he says with a smug expression on his face.
"You're so annoying, GOD!" I yell, glowering at him.
"Flustered are we," He bops me on the nose with his finger, I smack his hand away. I can hear his loud breathing and I can feel it on my face, much to my disgust. We were a little too close to each other so I took a massive step back.
"I'm not flustered, I just can't be in such a close proximity to a jerk, it physically hurts me," That was a really bad comeback, I will probably think of something else to say later tonight when I'm thinking through this whole conversation.
"Aw, it must be so difficult to be you then huh, " He says sarcastically, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smug little smirk that I just want to slap off his stupid face.
"Ok I need to get to lunch, unlike you I have actual friends who like me and not because my only personality trait is thinking I can be a dick because I have Mommy and Daddy's money." I was proud of that one If I'm being honest.
"Isabella Clinton, I would like to have a word with you please," Oh shit...did Miss Marshall hear me?
"Of course Miss," I nodded and smiled at her and started walking over to her. I took a quick second to look back at Miles who is looking quizzically at me.
"How are you doing?" She asks in her slight British accent. Wait, so am I in trouble or not? She is being way too nice to me. How am I doing? Jeez I don't know Miss...pretty shit actually.
"I'm doing great thank you, how are you," I say in my automatic high pitched, friendly voice that occurs when talking to adults.
"I'm pretty well thank you. I would just like to have a chat with you about something. It's about your mother," Miss Marshall says.
"What about her? Is she ok?" I ask quickly, my anger disappearing immediately, my head now swimming and my heart now pounding with worry.
"Maybe you would like to go talk further in my office?" She said kindly.
My mind was reeling, is she dead? Maybe she took the car out for a drive and was too drunk or high or something and she crashed or maybe someone crashed into her. As we walked into her office I tried to calm myself, I was overthinking a lot and I know that in this situation it probably wasn't good.
"Have a seat, make yourself comfy," Miss Marshall smiled sweetly at me, oh shit what does that mean. What is she trying to prepare me for?
"Her friend was coming over and found her unconscious on the couch. She had overdosed on some substance," My heart started beating very fast, almost to the point of pain, like a really really bad jumpscare.
"But don't worry she is going to be fine with time. She was taken to the hospital. Her choice is to start going to rehab, but I'm afraid it could take a few years or so considering your mothers current condition, but she will get better, hopefully." She added quickly after.
"Thank you for telling me, I...does this mean that I have to stay at school or something over the break?" I say nervously, although I am actually quite glad that my Mom is finally getting the help she needs and that I won't have to return home for a while.
"You are permitted to leave school as long as we can be in contact with an adult in charge of the home you want to stay at for a bit, ok?" She is still smiling kindly.
As I thanked her and bid her a good day, I walked out of the door to see Fairchild waiting just outside the room.
"Were you listening in on my conversation?" I ask, enraged by the nerve of him right now. He doesn't even reply. Fairchild stares at me as if deep in thought before grabbing my arm and walking me down the hall. We reach a storage cabinet. I watch in confusion as he opens it. I smack his arm and punched it in places I knew it would hurt more the whole time and finally got out of his grasp. He stepped into the cabinet quickly as he grabbed my tie with one hand and the sleeve of my shirt with the other as he pulls me into the confined space. It suddenly felt really hot and stuffy. I flinch sharply at the sound of Miles knocking something that sounded wooden and metal on the ground.
"Shit" He muttered to himself, "Can you find a light switch or something," He says, irritated as he backed into yet another object.
"How about no," I said crossing my arms although I knew he couldn't see me since it's surprisingly dark in here. My eyes started to adjust and maybe his too because he was standing over me in his slim but menacing form and looking directly at my face.
"How about you drop the attitude and listen," He retorts, stone faced and surprisingly scary.
"How about you tell me WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!" I say getting louder and more impatient every millisecond that I speak. His body language changes to a more alert stance as he stays very still and tries to listen to what's going on outside of the cabinet.
"Are you deaf, stop being an idiot and tell me WHAT THE FU-" I said before getting cut off as he covers my mouth with his hand and uses his strength (which he apparently has a lot of) to pull me closer so that I can't get away, which I try to do very insistently.
"You don't shut up do you?" He says in a low whisper which sounds far too menacing especially because I am currently in a dark cupboard and no one who knows me would even care If I never came out again, okay they would but still.
"I'm going to speak now and you're going to stop struggling" He states. Like hell I am what the hell is his problem. I start to step on his feet and kick at his shins whilst tugging at his arms.
"I want to help you, now would you stop being such a weak bitch and stay still for fucks sake," He said not once loosening his grip on me. Help me?! If he doesn't let go in exactly ten seconds I will lick his hand so that I can scream for help, or maybe I should bite it...that's kinda feral though, oh my god what am I even thinking right now I'm in such a dangerous position, I honestly don't know what this boy is capable of.
"I overheard your conversation with Miss Marshall." I stopped moving.
"You don't have anywhere to go right?" That's it I'm gonna lick his hand. Gross, why did he taste so salty and kind of like dirt as well.
"Did you just lick me," He laughed, a hint of disbelief in the tone of his lowered voice. He didn't even let go, I should bite him, if he doesn't move then I may as well be dead because he is probably a sociopath.
"Weow may ey eff u le go," he takes off his hand "I could actually...answer. Thank you" I say sarcastically, he brushes his hand on his jumper but doesn't let go of me with his other arm.