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??Listen here Chelsea, I don’t care who you are, and I don’t want anything you have to offer. So run back to your friends and plot my social demise because I don’t care. I don't want to be the only good deed you do this year, and the last thing I would ever want to do is join your circle. I’m here to finish my education and then simply move on. I don’t have time for friends.”
I sit back down as the whole canteen stares at us, I wasn’t mean, not really. I was truthful, I don’t want anything to do with her and the Shepherds so why doesn’t she just run along and go back to her friends?
She walks back to her lunch table and I can hear her voice taking on a squeaky tone. I could have been a lot worse, but I don’t set out to hurt people who haven’t hurt me, not yet anyway.
I continue pushing my lasagne around my plate and a shadow falls across my table, I sigh before looking up into the most beautiful green eyes I have ever seen.
Impossibly thick, dark lashes line those glorious eyes and I’m instantly jealous, not that my appearance is high on my list of priorities, but it takes so much mascara for my eyelashes to even look half as thick. He has a strong jaw, an aquiline nose, with a distinct crook hinting at a break in the past. His hair is the colour of dark chocolate-brown and damn, is he gorgeous.
His uniform is the same as mine, only with a pair of black trousers and an emerald green sweatshirt instead. His arms fill out the material nicely, and I have to fight the urge to lick my lips. He really is a sight for sore eyes, but any stirrings I may feel never last long, excitement doesn’t exist for me any longer.
“You’ve upset Chelsea, things like that don’t happen here,” he says as he pulls out a chair, flips it around and straddles it, leaning his square jaw upon the backrest.
“Like I said to your girlfriend, I don’t want an olive branch or any kind of relationship with you guys, I’m not here to make friends. So do your worst, but I’m going to eat my lunch.”
“Your name sounds familiar and I’m not just talking about the cheese,” he says, scratching at his jaw.
“Well if you figure out the reason why, feel free not to share it with me,” I reply before shifting in my seat so my back is to him, I’m done with this conversation.
Day two of my new school and I guess, home. The angry pixie is in a few of my classes, but she doesn’t even look at me unless it’s to roll her eyes. Chelsea glares at me every time I enter a room and I just let it roll off me.
I can’t even figure out why she even came over, she didn’t exactly stake a claim to anything so what was her reasoning?
“Hey cheesy, how's it going?” asks one of the Shepherds, but she isn’t happy when I laugh softly.
“Look hun, I’ve heard all the names you can throw at me. Your material is unoriginal" I state in an utterly bored tone, glancing at the door and wondering when the teacher is going to show up?
“I don’t know what Chelsea did to piss you off, but I like you. So, why don’t you come back with me and see what it’s like to be amongst the best in this place. Don’t worry honey, if I vouch for you, they’ll be no issues. The name is Britney by the way, but I’m sure you’ve heard of me by now.” The offer sounds genuine, but I’m not buying it.
“Why are you guys bothering with me, first Chelsea, then green eyes and now you. What’s the fascination?” I ask and I hate that I am genuinely curious.
“You’re one of the pretty people and we like pretty things, you have two choices really you’re either with us or you're against us. You really don’t want to be on the outside pretty girl, the insiders get all the fun. So, what’s it going to be?” Everyone in the class is listening with rapt attention as I stand up and take her offered hand, but I do not shake it.
“I think I rather suit being an outsider, thanks for the offer Britney but I’m going to politely decline. Run back to your friends and feel free to never extend this stupid olive branch of yours again.”
She arches one perfect brow, yet another blonde haired, blue eyed angel. But this angel doesn’t have a halo in sight, oh no there’s a viciousness held within her eyes and if I actually feared anything these days I may have been a little frightened. But I’m not, I just want her to go away and let me resume my chosen anonymity. I like being ignored and left to my own devices. It’s amazing the things you hear when people finally stop noticing you’re around.
In comes Mrs. Belle and the class begins, as maths teachers go, she seems fairly decent. Everyone gets on with their lesson, but the Shepherds aren’t even discreet in the way they completely ignore her instructions and instead, just sit there being nothing more than a distraction.
Luckily, I’m used to those, so it doesn’t bother me. But as we approach the halfway mark the door flies open and a hush falls across the room.
A shadow descends but I’m not going to bother looking up, if someone wants my attention they can try talking to me first. Unless they grab the back of my chair and tip it back until I’m staring up at them, exactly like this asshat is doing.
“You’re not allowed to sit there, move to the front,” he demands, through eyes that are so narrowed they’re practically slits. Dark and menacing, and my blood is suddenly thumping harder through my body.
“Excuse me, it’s not like I claimed a seat in the back row so shove off,” I retort, but it’s more of a splutter, where does he get off?
“Harrison, leave the poor girl alone and find another seat. Maybe if you had been on time you would have been able to get there first, tardiness is not an attractive trait in a person,” says Mrs. Belle.
The way the class is laid out is fairly standard, six rows of seven desks and chairs, the Shepherds on the very back row. Their sheep making up the next two rows. The nobodies at the front and everyone else claiming the rest, I had chosen the third row and the centre seat. It wasn’t exactly a conscious effort but what was the big deal involving this bloody seat?
By the time the class is over, I am more than happy to get out. I don’t waste any time in packing up my things and heading off to the library. I have to pick up a book for my English class and no time like the present and all that jazz. I’m just about to push my way into my new favourite place when a hand lands on my shoulder and I’m suddenly spun around and held against a wall.
“If it isn’t the chair thief,” says tall, dark and broody.
“I didn’t know okay, if it’s that important I’ll sit somewhere else,” I reply, trying to sneak under his arm but he only walls me in further.
“I don’t want you to sit somewhere else, I want you to leave this school cause you won’t like what’s going to happen if you don’t.”
