"I'm driving man," Kyron huffs, but I don't miss the underlying hint of embarrassment in his tone.
What he said? What did he say? Was it about me?
Damien pays him no heed, just watches the confused look on my face as he waits for Kyron to say whatever he said.
"Ughh fuck it." Kyron taps his fingers against the steering wheel. " I said instead of having one night stands, it's better to get a girlfriend who you can fuck whenever you want, and if she starts getting too attached or boring, dump her and move onto the next."
Bile rises up my throat as I look at Damien's little dimple popping smirk. Asshole. They're both assholes.
Kenzie feigns a gag. "I feel disgusted to even call you my brother."
Kyron doesn't say anything back to her. Probably because there's nothing he can say to make himself look better. He's disgusting and if I were Kenzie I'd feel the same way.
Unable to look at his self-satisfied expression anymore, I turn my head and look out the window. This. This is one of the reasons why I steer clear of boys. They're insensitive and only care about themselves and their pleasure.
"What, you're not going to call him a jerk?" Damien counters in an impassive tone.
Pursing my lips, I pretend the green grass field we're driving by is the worlds most interesting thing to look at. What was the point of getting Kyron to repeat what he said when I didn't hear him? Because he didn't want to be the only person to be called a jerk. I apologised for gods sake.
When the car finally stops outside the college, I try so hard to quickly get out of the car that I actually end up slowing myself down.
Kenzie doesn't have as much stuff as me on her so she gets out before me.
As I'm shoving my arm into my coat, eager to be out of this car that seems to be suffocating me more and more the longer I stay in it. I move to open the door but it opens before I can even lay a hand on the handle on a fantom wind, making me lurch forward.
A small sound lodges itself in the back of my throat and I close my eyes, mentally preparing myself for the ground but I never feel it. Instead, I feel big strong hands tightly grip my biceps and yank me up into a hard chest.
Despite my erratic heart and the remnants of my fear still dissipating, the touch causes goosebumps to flit across every inch of my skin and the hair at the nape of my neck to rise.
I lean my forehead against a hard chest as I try to calm my racing heart and shaking limbs down.
A hard chest? I slowly peel my eyes open and strain my neck back, only to lock eyes with emerald jewels.
My breathing picks up for a whole other reason than almost cracking my face open on the pavement. I place my palm on Damiens rock hard chest to steady myself, and I think I feel his muscles tense under my touch but its probably my shaking hand playing tricks on me.
Embarrassment courses through me at the realisation of what just happened. I avert my eyes and try to pull myself out of his grasp but my nerves make me stumble a little.
He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me tighter against him. A gasp tumbles out of me from the foreign feeling of being pressed against him... but what scares me is that it's not a bad feeling.
I wait for it though. I wait for the panic to seize my body. I wait for it to blur my vision... I wait for the darkness to consume me, yet it doesn't... why isn't it?
"Careful Rose." His deep voice brings my attention back to his emerald eyes.
I try to return my breathing back to normal but I can't seem to do anything other than stare into those eyes.
I don't know how long our eyes stay locked, but I'm suddenly pulled out of my trance when Kenzie shouts, "Oh my gosh, are you ok?!"
Still gasping for air, I look over my shoulder and somehow manage to nod my head yes.
I look up at Damien staring down at me with a look I can't decipher. "Th- thank you," I stammer out, still transfixed on his eyes.
He searches my eyes and face for a couple of heartbeats, then nods his head once and slowly removes his arm from around my waist before walking away.
Kenzie turns to me, a panicked expression marring her face. "I'm so sorry, I was going to help you. I didn't kn—
"It's ok, I'm fine," I assure her and myself.
"You sure?"
I nod my head yes because my heart is still pounding against my rib cage, reverberating through my blood. I wouldn't be surprised if it fell at my feet, to be honest.
I grab my bag off the floor and Kenzie links our arms as we walk toward the school entrance. The students from the busses that were behind us at our feet.
I KNOCK ON THE COUNSELLORS OFFICE DOOR, NERVOUSLY. When she tells me to come in, I struggle to open the door because of my shaky and sweaty hand, but I eventually manage to do it with my sleeve and walk-in.
"Have a seat, Hazel." Her cheery voice makes me lift my gaze off the ground to meet her blues. She has a medium-sized red and white office. A big white rectangular desk to the left of a small opaque window, the brown blinds pulled back, revealing the dull morning England sky. An old wooden vintage shelf layered with trophy's, certificates, books etc rests on the wall opposite the desk, near the door I just came through.
I walk up to the desk and take a seat in the black leather chair opposite the counsellor. The counsellor looks like she's in her mid-40s, with her light blonde hair up in a bun and her grey suit dress.
"Sorry I'm late, there was an accident. It wasn't just me that was late though, there were like four other busses behind me, and they were all full of students and I tried to..." I snap my lips shut when I realise I'm blabbering.
She smiles at me, seeming to sense my nervousness. "I know Hazel," she says calmly.
I let out a breath I didn't realise I was holding, and give her a smile I hope doesn't look forced.
"Are you ready?" she raises a questioning brow. Swallowing the lump in my through, I nod my head yes. Ready for college... I don't know. Ready for this meeting... definitely not.
"Ok so as we both know your grades weren't the best the first time around, and that's the reason why we couldn't accept you before ." She sure as hell doesn't waste time.
I look down at the fidgeting fingers in my lap.
"However, I've talked to your therapist, again, and she's explained everything to me. She told me she asked you for permission first and you said yes?" I nod my head yes at her because I don't trust my voice. "She says she's been preparing you for months on how to control it. Am I right? " I nod my head yes again, digging my fingernails into my palm. "I have decided to give you a second chance seeing as though I didn't the first time around, but not only because of that but because I know you're not a health and safety risk." She takes a deep breath. "But also because I believe you deserve it, for your bravery and determination."
I look up and give her a genuine smile. "Thank you," I whisper loud enough for her to hear.
"Heres your time table," she slides a sheet across her desk. "If you ever need anything, you know where my office is."
I nod my head yes. Dammit Hazel, speak.
"Well then off you go, its break time." She waves her hand in a shooing gesture, smiling.
Getting up from my seat proves difficult because of my shaking legs, and it takes everything in me to keep them from giving out as I silently put the timetable in my bags side pocket.
Say something, Hazel! Say something, you coward!
I look up at her, trying to find my voice again. "Thank you for giving me this chance, Mrs Wilson." I hitch my backpack on my shoulder. "You won't regret this, I promise."
My spine as straight as a rod, I force my trembling legs to take one step after the other, needing to keep up a strong and controlled forefront. It doesn't matter that in reality, I'm breaking over and over again because all that matters is that the world sees I'm fine, that everything's good, that I'm happy. Only when I'm alone can I crumble... only then.
When the door clicks shut, I lean my back against the wall next to it and try to control my shaking hands and legs, to no avail. All I want to do is sink to the ground and curl up into myself. But I can't because there are cameras.
God, I was so nervous that even she saw it. I hope I don't mess this up — no I can't mess this up! I'm going to keep my head buried in textbooks and get my grades back. I'm going to become something. I'm going to make my mum proud. Everything I do is for her, everything. My mums my whole world. I have to remember that every time I feel the urge to give up... I have to remember her and everything she's done for me.
Peeling myself off the wall, I hold my head high, ready to conquer the world. I stifle a laugh at that comment and head on into the cafeteria to get something to eat.
I've not made it two steps away from the door when a phone call stops me dead in my tracks. I pull my phone out and check who it is; kenzies Snapchat calling me. I stifle a laugh and answer it.
"Where are you ?" Is the first thing out of her mouth.
"I'm on my way to the cafeteria, don't worry. I'll see you there," I tell her and hang up. She's scared I'll hide in the library to read a book... her fears correct because that was my original plan.
This College is so big and complicated. How am I going to get around this place? I wonder as I turn in a circle in the big corridor.
I jinxed myself... It takes me over five minutes to find the cafeteria. And when my second high school friends: Kenzie, Katie, Michelle, Ally and Dakota see me, they literally scream so loud and encase me in a hug that deprives me of oxygen that the whole entire cafeteria turns to look at us.
I love my friends, always have, always will. I was alone throughout my first high school — my best friends went to a separate high school to me and we only became close last year... well only after I opened up to them.
These friends are from my second high school. I only had a few in my first one before moving and we're not in contact anymore.
These ones are literally the sweetest but we're nothing alike. They love to party, and have even tried to drag me along to one in the past, but gave up because I always said no. I'm not good in loud crowded spaces, I'd rather be at home with my nose stuck in a book. Also, they like to blast themselves on social medial, but I prefer to be invisible.
I only have a max of ten friends, and to be honest, sometimes that becomes too much because that's ten more friends I have to explain a lie to. And I'm really really bad at lying.
We grab something to eat and sit down. They all talk about boys and girls and what they did in the holidays. Whilst I just sit quietly next to them and eat my sandwich. I'm socially awkward so I don't bother trying to place myself into the conversation. Plus I'm the only one in my friend group who never talks about their love life because, I substantially don't have one, and unfortunately for me, that's all they talk about. I can't even hug guys as easily as other girls do because they seem very intimate to me. And I haven't had my first kiss yet either...
To others, it might seem like they're leaving me out or ignoring me, but I know they care about me. Anyways I'm used to being and feeling invisible so it doesn't affect me, and I actually prefer it.
ONCE BREAK IS OVER I'm quick to go to my first lesson: health and social care. None of my friends are in this class and I'm glad — friends tend to distract you and I need to avoid distractions at all cost.
Surprisingly it's in a science classroom. It's fairly big and has six rows of tables facing the smart board; three rows on the right, pressed against the wall. And three rows on the left, also pressed against the wall. In between them, there's a gap leading to the front desk, and the back where there's a big window that takes up the entire wall and ends at the countertop where equipment is laid out.
I'm the first one in the class so I say good morning to the old grey-haired teacher who said her name was Mrs smith and take a seat at the back, on the left side of the class.
Five minutes later the class is full.
Some pretty girl with short blonde hair, brown eyes and porcelain skin approaches my table. "Hi, do you mind if I sit here?" She asks, hesitantly.
"Sure." I smile, moving my bag off where it rests on the chair next to me and place it on the ground.
She sits in the chair and starts rifling through her Michael Kors handbag. Wow, she's brave bringing that to college.
"I'm Lexi by the way. I'm new to the college and city, moved here from Manchester this summer."
"I'm Hazel," I greet her back. I'm awkward so I don't say anything else.
Lexi doesn't say anything, doesn't have the chance to because the teacher begins to introduce herself. Mrs Smith tells the class she's been working here for over ten years, along with all the other stuff teachers tell you on your first day.
"We're going to go around introducing ourselves. Everyone has to say either their name or nickname and reveal a hobby." Mrs smith points to the right side. "We're starting from here—" she moves her finger to the left. "— going in a straight line, then back."
We're on the third person when the last person I could ever expect to walk into this classroom, walks in. Damien.
He saunters inside, all six foot six inches of him, towering almost three heads over the teacher. He doesn't even bother apologising for being late as he sits in the seat to my right... at the end of the table like me. I try not to groan out loud, there are so many seats, why here? We're basically a metre and a half away from each other.
I should have sat near the wall. Too late now, I recall the teacher telling us that these are our assigned seats for the rest of the year. Lovely, I'm going to be a metre away from rude guy three times a week.
I pay Damien no heed, and instead focus on the students introducing themselves. It comes to my table and lexis up first. "Hi, my names Lexi Anderson and my hobby is music."
The teacher nods her head at me.
"My names Hazel klynn, and my hobby is art," I mumble and hope everyone heard me. I'm shy, so I hope I don't have to repeat myself. Thankfully, everyone does hear me — or if they don't, they don't let on. I breathe out a sigh in relief when the teacher smiles at me, and lean back in my chair.
Damien comes after me. "Damien Hunter, " he grumbles, and that curious annoying part in me waits for him to reveal his hobby, but he doesn't. However, the teacher doesn't even press him to. Guess she also knows he's rude and doesn't want to bother, just like she didn't when he was late.
I don't look his way, because I still feel embarrassed from our earlier encounter. But also because he's rude and I don't like him.
I try to write down all the important things the teachers saying so I can go over them later on. My mind and body are still overdriven with nerves and anxiety. So much that it takes me longer than necessary to process what the teachers saying.
Once the class is over, I'm quick to put my stuff in my bag. I like to use different coloured pens for my notes, so it takes me extra time to put them away.
Everyone's left already, and in my hurry, I drop 'A court of wings and ruins.' I lean down to pick it up when suddenly a big hand with big pulsing veins and a rose tattoo covers mine.
I look up and meet the same green forests I was desperately trying to avoid.