You know that feeling when the world seems to stop and it's just you? Like everyone else is invisible but you? Or like no one really exists except for you?
Yeah, well I'm not feeling it. What I do feel are a hundred pair of eyes on me as I fly into the air. I'm not exactly flying but there is no way in hell my feet are on the ground.
I watch everything unfold in slow motion. A kid from a table stands up and points at me, Aaron Friar grins evilly, his friend holds his phone up, that crazy bird—Jeffery—flys into the window again, the geniuses shake their heads like they had seen it coming and Mr Henry bites his finger instead of his sandwich.
I shut my eyes and wait for the most embarrassing moment of my life to happen, which really sucks because I can't stop it from happening now, even trying to beg the universe is useless but I do it anyway.
Don't let me fall. Make everyone blind. Make them look away. If I'm going to fall than please land gracefully. Please land gracefully. Please.
But nothing comes to save me and I don't land gracefully at all.
No. I land on the large white tiles on my back, the air knocked out of my lungs and I groan. I've felt way worse than the stinging coming from my back, but the pain is still terrible and the back of my head feels like someone's just hit me with a frying pan. And then, when I think nothing can possibly make this worse, I remember the tray that was definitely floating above me. Assoon as I think of that, the sloppy but delicious pasta lands on my face like a bunch of worms in mud.
My mind goes blank. Like seriously blank. I start questioning if that really happened. I mean, maybe I'm daydreaming. I must be. This only happens in those stupid movies teenagers watch, not in real life. Wait, what if this isn't real life? Holy—did I snap my neck when I landed?
Damnit.
Suddenly the growing need for air builds up inside and relief consumes me. I'm not dead. Oh thank you god.
Lifting my hand, I brush off the pasta, feeling the oil of the red sauce on my hands and sit up, gasping for air.
It takes a second for me to realise that I'm being watched and then my eyes widen and there is nothing I want to do more than hide my face in my sweater and pray for the ground to just swallow me whole.
The cafeteria is quiet for two seconds straight, and then the thunder. Everyone is watching me and almost everyone is laughing.
My face burns up.
The humiliation is worse than the time I peed myself while doing the pain progression test in front of seven scientists. At least they understood why because I was fourteen and the sudden change from mild pain to excruciating in three seconds was bound to evoke something.
I bring my eyes up to see the freshman who I'm sure is the owner of the plate of pasta. The pasta sauce itself feels like gloss on my skin and not the nice kind. Eww.
I thought he would've been embarrassed or ashamed for causing the trouble, but what I didn't expect was to find him laughing.
"Oh god." He wheezes, "y-you okay there?" He asks, his eyes tearing up and voice sounding anything but apologetic.
It takes effort to resist glaring at him.
Well what do you think?
"Yeah." I just answer with strain.
This is like my worst nightmare coming to life and all I can think of now is how Kate will react if she finds out.
Will she be mad? I'm not supposed to get attention and yet here I am.
Despite the total humiliation I am feeling, a boiling anger builds up inside of me. I don't know if it's the kid I should be angry at or myself for not paying attention to where I was going.
"Damn Justice, never seen a back flop like that before."
If it were possible, I went even more red and it was hard to tell whether that was out of embarrassment or anger.
You know what? Forget that kid, it's Aaron Friar that I'm going to kill.
My head snaps towards the sound of his voice amongst the laughter. The mischievous grin plastered on his face is enough to confirm his involvement. He set this all up. He threw that—whatever it was—thing and I tripped.
I don't normally feel like punching people in the face, but man do I want to give him a bloody nose.
"Miss Justice, are you okay?" Mr Henry asks, his face masked in concern as he gives me a hand. I notice the incisor marks on his thumb and hesitate to take it. Once on my feet, Ms Day, an art teacher, passes me a napkin to wipe my face. I feel terrible but that's the least of my problems. What I am worried about are the twenty phones recording everything that's happening.
There is no way in hell I can let those videos and pictures of me get onto the internet. No, Kate would murder me. She'd kick me out and abandon me forever, then the year I've spent already at Victor High will be nothing but a single droplet of water in a desert. Useless.
"What is all this noise about?" The cafeteria quickly goes silent.
I groan internally.
Mr Gilmore, lean; grey haired; square spectacled and principal of Victor High, is a very strict man. He stalks the school like an orca prowling his prey, always checking to see if his perfect school is in order because god forbids a strand of hair out of place.
"Mr Gilmore." Mr Henry immediately straightens up, "it was nothing but an unfortunate accident."
"All accidents are unfortunate Mr Henry." Mr Gilmore says seriously, his infamous scowl gracing his lips. "I asked what all the noise was about. Last I checked this was a school and not a zoo."
Mr Henry doesn't say anything. Mr Gilmore turns to me with an eyebrow raised. A look flashes across his eyes and his scowl deepens. "Miss Justice? I thought you would wait before getting into another mishap."
I don't say anything.
"Do you wish to pay one of your many visits to the nurse's office?" Mr Gilmore asks and I shake my head.
He isn't threatening me or anything, seeing as I have had my fair share of accidents in this school, but he did not have to say that out loud.
Now thanks to our dear principal's appearance, I think even more people have tuned in.
"Well? Explain yourself." Mr Gilmore demands.
"I... Um. Well, was just walking when someone," I look over at Aaron, catching Mr Gilmore's attention, "decided it would be smart to throw a half empty juice box in front of me and I slipped."
Mr Gilmore looks at me unimpressed but turns to the Pride's table. "Mr Friar, would you care to explain yourself?"
Aaron shrugs, "I wanted it to land in the bin, didn't think it would land in front of it." He says with a grin.
That baboon! I wish I could just—
Ah-uh Blair, we don't do violence.
However childish he sounds, it receives a load of chuckles.
Mr Gilmore shakes his head at him, "did you forget you had feet?"
I have to hold back a laugh. Mr Gilmore turns back to me, but just before he can speak, someone clears their throat behind us.
I turn around and almost freeze. To say I'm horrified is an understatement.
Seated on their table, eyes on me are the Royals. The two blondes look confused, Collin has an amused smirk, Malissa is frowning and Declan... Declan looks pissed for some reason.
"Is there a problem, Miss Grace?" Mr Gilmore asks, standing in line beside me. If it weren't for the sauce in my ears, I wouldn't doubt hearing his voice soften just a little.
Malissa looks at me with frown on her lips. "That was Declan's." She points out and for a moment I'm left baffled.
What was Declan's?
"Mr Hyder's?" Mr Gilmore asks, just as unsure as I am.
Suddenly all our attention is on the familiar freshman walking forward. "Yeah." He speaks up meekly, under all the attention.
What does he want now?
"I.." he gulps and takes a nervous glance at Declan and quickly looks away. "I was just getting that for him. You know, since it's... it's polite?"
He sounds so uncertain of the words he's forming. Oh I can't watch. This is too cringe.
"It's polite, Mr Daniels?" Mr Gilmore narrows his eyes at the freshman, who tenses. I can tell that Mr Gilmore wants to say something else but stops himself.
The freshman's adam's apple bobs ups and down, "uh... I just wanted to make a good impression that's all."
Woah.
"A good impression? You call this a good impress—" I stop. Why did I say that out loud? Why the heck did I say that out loud?! Now everyone is looking at me.
Mr Gilmore clears his throat beside me and thankfully I feel the eyes drift back to him.
"Go back to your table Mr Daniels, be careful next time and—everyone who isn't involved look away or it's detention!" He booms suddenly and all our faithful viewers turn away from us, going back to doing whatever they were doing.
Mr Gilmore then looks at the royals and says something but I can't hear a word he's saying or what Malissa is replying.
Something flys past my face and then back again. A stupid fly. I look around and swap my hand at the flying thing, then my eyes land on another that's strangely already looking at me.
Cold, dark and sharp; Declan's eyes are like those of hawks. Like a deep pool of emptiness, like space, but then space is filled with whole galaxies so you could say his eyes are like—what the hell am I thinking? His eyes are like eyes, round and have irises with pupils. That's it Blair.
Maybe the only difference is that people usually get nervous under his gaze, both guys and girls. I've seen many tremble when subject to them, like Declan was the personification of death. But it isn't that bad.
It makes me a little proud that I don't react the same way, but I snap out of my selfish thoughts and remind myself of who I'm supposed to be.
I look away and finally pay attention to what is being said, and only then do I finally understand what was really "Declan's" and why Malissa and Mr Gilmore looked at me.
"...then the cafeteria will get another tray of food." Mr Gilmore says.
"Yeah—" Malissa starts, but is cut off with Mr Gilmore's fingers snapping.
"Yes sir?" A cafeteria worker rushes up.
"Get another tray of food for Mr Hyder." Mr Gilmore orders.
"Yes sir." The worker nods and turns to walk away.
"Wait." Malissa calls and the worker stops.
"Yes Miss Grace? Is there something else?" Mr Gilmore asks.
I'm in shock at the tone of his voice. He sounds like a waiter in a restaurant taking the VIP's orders. It's definitely something you don't see everyday.
Malissa leans forward and whispers something in Declan's ear and he listens but makes no reaction, then she moves back and speaks with authority in her voice.
"Yeah," she says, "I want her to get it."
It doesn't take a genius to know that I am "her". Mr Gilmore looks at me and I see the way his eyes slightly narrow and I know exactly what he's thinking.
What?
"Me?" I ask, the surprise in my voice too obvious for my liking.
"No, the person behind you." Malissa mutters sarcastically but I hear it.
I look over at Mr Gilmore, he can't possibly allow this to happen, can he?To my dismay, he gives me an expectant look and folds his arms.
"Miss Justice?" He raises one of his bushy eyebrows.
I stare at him speechless. He really expects me to follow that?
I know I'm not supposed to be upset, because that could possibly blow my cover, but I can't help it and I can't help this.
I shake my head, "no". I think I hear someone choke on water behind me.
"Pardon me, what did you say?"
I speak louder. "I said no. I'm not getting his food. He has functional two legs of his own and is capable of getting it himself." I look over at Declan and assess his body blankly.
Mr Gilmore scowls, "I didn't give you a choice. When I tell you to do something I expect you to do it."
"Actually, you didn't not give me a choice either. You only said my name." I clarify.
"Fine then Miss Justice, go get Mr Hyder's tray."
I don't know why that still caught me off guard. "But sir—"
He gave me a pointed look.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes and stay, feet glued to the spot. "I'm not going to do that." I say stubbornly.
"Oh my god what is she doing?"
"Does she want to get expelled?"
I have definitely caught the attention of everyone, doing exactly what I shouldn't be doing on the first day of school, but I don't care. Yes, this is an absolute breach of the code and contract (getting out of character and attracting unnecessary attention) and I will get an earful from Kate later, but I can't not defend myself.
My only priorities are to avoid getting that tray, clean myself before I stink of pasta sauce and most importantly, delete those videos of myself before they make it to the internet, which I'm wary of have already been posted.
Mr Gilmore looks mad, "and why not?"
I calm myself down and answer in a composed manner. "Clearly because Mr Hyder can get it himself. I'm not a servant of his, nor is that freshman or anyone of his friends. If Miss Grace is so concerned about her boyfriend's lunch, how about she—I don't know—get it herself?"
I've no doubt shocked everyone in the cafeteria. No one has ever spoken to Mr Gilmore like that, or the Royal for that matter. Still I can't find a reason to care.
I grab my bag from my table and walk out of the cafeteria pissed off, leaving everyone speechless.
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A/N: Gosh what kind of principle does that? Wait, actually I can think of so many... remember to vote and comment your thoughts!