by B C Morgan
“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.”
“For crying out loud, it’s just a seat,” I exclaim, feeling exasperated.
“Aww Harrison, you’re defending my honour,” comes from Chelsea as she appears next to us.
“Fuck off Chels, not everything is about you. You want someone to kiss your arse, go and find Finley,” he bites out in reply, without taking his hate filled eyes off me.
“Now listen to me Monterey.” My surname drips from his tongue like poison, how does everyone already know who I am? “I don’t want someone like you in my school, so run along before I take the option away from you. You’ve got two days to run off to Mummy and Daddy and get your dirty fucking arse out of here.”
His hand curls around my throat, he applies pressure, but I can still breathe. No, he isn’t trying to strangle me, he’s just declaring his dominance over me. I hate that I feel a mixture of fear and excitement, I really need to find a healthy way to deal with all the emotions I try to keep buried inside.
He pushes away and with one last degrading look, he starts to walk away. I won’t be pushed around though; you have to stand up for yourself otherwise people will always walk all over you.
“I’m not afraid of you Harrison, and I’m not going anywhere,” I shout out.
He stops and glances my way, before flipping me off and the last thing he says is, “I don’t ever want to hear you saying my name again.”
I shake my head slowly before finally making it into the library and the sense of awe I had first felt, hasn’t lessened in the slightest.
Every wall, except for the far back one, is covered in books. Row after row of shelves fill the ground floor, and the first floor has a hot drinks machine and a seating area where people can enjoy their books whilst looking out over the balcony to the floor below. There is also a desk with rows of computers.
As well as three private rooms on the ground floor and a row of long line desks for students to study at. The back wall is a mixture of stain glass windows and exposed brick and it takes my breath away. The upper level holds very little interest for me, and I presume I would find the Shepherds there if they ever entered a place like this.
The librarian is a sweet old lady, until she looks at you and you realise her stare could freeze the blood in your veins. You can tell she doesn’t take any nonsense in here and I love her for it.
I wish I had a free period so I could spend a few hours here just scrolling through the thousands of books contained within the walls, but unfortunately I only have ten minutes before my class starts and being late is not looked on fondly in this prison, I mean, school.
I grab my necessary reading and pretty much jog down the hall to my next class.
By the time lunch comes around, I’m cream crackered. Because of my IQ and—according to the score—high intelligence, they shoved me into the higher tier classes. If only my education meant anything to me, I don’t even know what I want to do when I leave here, other than di
scover the bloody truth.
I sit down at my table, after grabbing a shepherd’s pie and yet again, my appetite has deserted me.
I’ve had enough already and when yet another shadow falls across the tabletop, I’m almost ready to blow.
“What now?” I snap, as I throw my head back and look up and then up some more.
Holy crap, who is he? He has sandy blonde hair, with baby blue eyes. An oval shaped face with a slightly pointed chin, although his jaw is still strong. A straight nose with eyes just the right distance apart and yet again, lashes that should be made illegal for a guy to have. Genetics do not play fair.
He has wide shoulders, with muscular arms. I swear I can see his pecs bouncing through his tight shirt and his waist tapers just as it disappears beneath his trousers, damn this boy is yummy. And he has to be at least six-three.
“Whoa take it down a notch love, I was just looking for a place to sit,” he says with a shit eating grin on his face. What’s he up to?
“It’s not like I can tell you where you can and can’t sit,” I reply, before returning to my plate.
He plonks himself down opposite me, and I notice that he does the ‘come here’ motion with his hand. I slap my hand against my head as three more people come to join us, and I regret not telling him where to go. Clearly my hormones had taken over for a moment there, and now I am stuck here with a bloody group of people. Unless, I just get up and walk away.
I’m contemplating it, when my eyes glance up and my mouth drops open, the angry pixie is sitting with me. Okay, now this could be interesting.
“I thought you didn’t want me to sit or speak with you, aren’t you breaking one of your own rules?” I ask, as she smirks at me before tucking into her food.
“Don’t worry about Trixie, she’s mad at the whole world and everyone must suffer for it,” says Mr. Dreamboat.
“For the last time Elijah, my name is not Trixie,” she bites out and I can’t hold back my laugh.
It draws a lot of attention but I don’t care, if it’s funny I will bloody well laugh.
“What tickled your funny bone?” asks Elijah, his eyes sparkling with his own mirth.
“You call her Trixie, it’s funny cause I’ve been calling her the angry pixie ever since I met her yesterday.”
Her cheeks redden and Elijah suddenly jolts, and I’m hazarding a guess that she’s just booted him one right under the table.
“Come on guys, introduce us already and then you can tell the pretty girl why you’ve suddenly changed your mind,” says another guy as he drops down beside me.
Elijah glares at him, but I refuse to read too far into it. I don’t care what the world says, guys are just as complicated and confusing as they feel us girls to be.
“I’m Elijah, the pixie here goes by Ivy but Trixie the pixie has a much better ring to it,” he gets a punch this time which makes him laugh deeply before he continues the introduction.
“The runt on your left is Noah, and last but not least, we have Amias. So, what’s your name beautiful?” he asks as he waggles his brows.
“It’s Henleigh,” I reply, as I look over the other two.
Noah is far from a runt, he may not be as broad as the others, but he is still toned in a less, gym obsessed way. Definition is clear to see through his shirt, but it isn’t straining and threatening to blow a few buttons. Hard to guess his height whilst he’s sitting, but I could definitely get lost in his chocolate-brown eyes, damn!
But seriously, he is model worthy with long hair on top but buzzed at the sides and a cute boyish smile on his face. He’s all kinds of contradictions in one.
And then there’s Amias, his eyes are so dark I swear they’re black, with short messy hair and a ruggedness that gives me the impression he wasn’t raised in the safe neighbourhoods either. He’s got tanned skin as though he spends a lot of time outside and I never thought I was a fan of facial hair, but his goatee has my fingers itching to run themselves through it.
Okay that’s it, I’m ignoring these guys before I start having anymore inappropriate thoughts. I do not have time for this, plus I can’t stop thinking about that Harrison guy. I just want to head butt a wall a few times and try to knock some sense into myself.
“Henleigh Monterey I like it, did you know there’s a cheese called Monterey Jack?” asks Elijah and my middle finger shoots right on up.
He holds his chest as if I’ve shot him while the others smirk, he’s the comedian of the group then and clearly loves a bit of drama.
“Tell her then Ivy,” says Amias and his voice reminds me of melted dark chocolate and coal crackling in the fire. It’s warm, it’s hot and too damn sexy for my health.
A seventeen-year-old’s hormones are not easy to handle, and just because most of the kids where I grew up were sleeping around and losing it before the age of sixteen does not mean that I plan to.
“You’ve got Chelsea and Britney stewing over the way you fobbed them off. Octavia automatically hated you the moment she saw you, if you’re better looking than her then you’re an enemy. Plus her beau was definitely checking you out during form room.”
That’s all she says as she stares at me, but it doesn’t exactly explain why she’s suddenly at my table.
“Look, I made an assumption that you would join with them and treat everyone else like we’re lesser than you. But the way you talked to them shows you really don’t care about being in the popular circle,” she continues, staring intently at me.
“What about that twat Harrison, seriously what crawled up his arse and died?” I ask without keeping my voice low and everything goes dead silent.
I look up to see the four of them staring at me, in a mixture of shock, mirth, and awe.
“A twat hey,” comes the rumbling of Harrison as he spins my chair around so I’m facing him.
“Shove off Harrison, she’s allowed to speak her mind,” says Elijah standing up.
“I thought I made myself clear earlier Monterey, I do not want to hear you speaking my name. This is your final warning don’t cross me,” he says, before heading back to his table.
“Whatever you say, Harrison,” I shout back and if looks could kill, I would be dying an agonising death right about now.
“See what I mean, we should keep her,” says Elijah, his eyes sparkling and he’s practically bouncing with pent up joy.
I stand up, I’ve had enough of people my own age. I mean they could be a couple years older, but I don’t care, I just want to be left alone.
“No one is keeping me, I don’t want the drama and I really don’t need any friends,” I say, and I swear it lights something in Noah’s eyes just before he takes my plate and devours my uneaten meal.
Two
Day three and I feel sick to my stomach, I’m not sure why I’m feeling like this, but something feels, off. I gaze around my room for the rest of this year and other than a picture of Elliott that I keep by my bed – and my journal that I keep stashed in my now empty suitcase - it’s entirely devoid of anything personal.
There’s a double bed, not that we’re allowed to have anyone sleep in our bed or probably even in our room with us, but I’ve seen the odd girl sneaking out of an impromptu sleepover. There’s a dark oak wardrobe standing proud next to the door of my en suite which houses both a bath and a walk-in shower and then there’s a little sitting area. A sofa and an armchair, positioned around a coffee table with a sideboard off to the sidewall with all the makings for a tea, coffee or even a hot chocolate.
On the weekend we’re allowed to wear ‘civilian’ clothes, but other than that it’s a strict requirement that we must always wear the required uniform to help keep the school standards. Some nonsense like that anyway, I hate that I don’t forget anything.
I stand in the shower, turning the jets up as hot as I can handle and let the water cascade over me. I climb out after twenty minutes and just stare at my reflection.
I hate being pretty, I’m not even lying. I’ve always dra
wn people’s attention, either from bullies because of the way my mind works, or from the guys because they wanted to have me hanging on their arm. Not interested.
I dry myself off and throw my clothes on. I hate uniforms, but I guess it could be worse.
In my reflection I see a girl with dark brown, wavy hair. Full plump lips and dark brown eyes. I’m not tanned but I’m not lily white in my complexion either. I used to get bullied because I didn’t have double D’s but I’m content with my B cup and toned frame. I’m not like the other girls, I’m not chasing some guy or even looking to bag myself a boyfriend. Occasionally I’ll put in a little effort and make myself look nice but that’s for me, no one else.
I take one last look in the mirror, disdainfully taking in the uniform before pulling open my door, and I come up short as I look at the ground just in front of my door. Why is there a red One written on the floor? I’m standing here looking at it but the meaning behind it hasn’t dawned on me all of a sudden.
“Nice one cheese girl,” says Britney as she walks past giggling with her fellow Shepherd girls, I roll my eyes as I close my door and head to class.
It’s just a number, no big deal, right?
Harrison has already claimed the central seat, his eyes boring into me as I enter the room. It really doesn’t bother me, a chair is a chair, the only location I would choose is one that is far away from here. I drop down in the row just before his, and one seat to the right.
I’m sure I can hear his teeth grinding, but he doesn’t know me, and I won’t give in to a few measly threats.
I pull out my textbook and wait for the teacher to arrive, it’s history today and we’re focusing on the Second World War. I don’t really need to be here, I’ve already worked my way through the reading material so what more is there for me to learn.
I’ve already been to my form room and ignored the silly girls. Ivy was in there as well but she didn’t try to talk to me again, thankfully, but my luck is coming to an end.
