GROW AS WE GO [TWW √]

I

Mildred POV

These days at the Cackle Academy seems to pass quietly, quickly and without major disastrous events.
I've got my lantern duty again, but after some time I automatically wake up in the early morning feeling good and energetic.
Autumn it's making its way on earth, or at least here, painting the streets with a flood of warm colors with countless leaves.
I'm currently relaxing in my room, sitting near my windows and glancing at the world outside while sketching on my new album, there are no assignments today and it's the perfect time to draw while shutting out some insistent thoughts and ideas.

My mom started dating a man, I don't remember his name but he's goofy and genuinely good, and I'm thinking about relationships too much these days.
Am I still too young?
Or should I wait another year?
I don't really know, I'm fourteen and I have no experience with these kind of things.
Some days I imagine someone taking my hand, whispering sweet nothings into my ears and then-

Someone is outside my door and I already know who they are.
Maud and Enid make their way into my room, shutting the door behind them, they look too much happy and surprised.

«You're not gonna believe this!»
Maud is talking, playing with her hands excited while Enid is biting her lips while awkwardly smiling.

I put my album on the old desk while arranging the pencils by height, for some reason I'm not interested in what they're gonna say.

«Ethel will change academy and leave Cackle in two days!»
Enid says, letting herself fall on my bed.
Maud starts to slowly dance with closed eyes.

They're so happy.

And Ethel's gonna leave.

I start scratching my arm through the shirt.
I don't know what to say and that never happens.

«That's...that's amazing..»
I look down, my shoes are dirty with drops of old ink.

They stop being happy, they're worried because I'm silently watching my own feet standing in the middle of my room.
My left arm hurts so much and I can't stop ruining it.

I should be happy, screaming with joy while my "enemy" is preparing to leave this place forever.

Then why it feels so wrong?

My heart aches.

«Are you okay, Mil?»
Enid is beside me in a second, hugging me softly and trying to understand what's happening to me.
Maud looks like she's gonna cry.
«This is why I can't stand her-»
Maud looks angrily at me, but I know that her anger is not directed at me or Enid.

Because she knows.

She storms out of my room, and Enid leaves my side to follow her, whispering a "sorry" before closing the door.

I'm alone again.

And I can't stop thinking about her.

_______________________________________________________

While Miss Hardbroom is reading our essays about the history of traditional potions, my eyes inevitably fall on her.
Her blonde straight hair are gently covering her shoulders; she started cutting them at the end of every month.
The new style suits her well.
But it's not surprising, she's Ethel and she has to be perfect.

She suddenly looks in my direction, I look away and I can feel her eyes on my back.
I can feel my face getting red and hot, my heart starts beating like I'm a caffeine addict.

I feel so wrong again and I want to pick my head until I'm bald.
I would do anything to stop this.

The bell rings and the class storms out, ignoring the shouting of Miss Hardbroom, and we're the only one left behind.
She raises her hands in the air, defeated and tired.
With a spell everything returns in its right place and the classroom is cleaned.

I can't move.

I rest my head on the long table.

I can hear the delicate sound of the bell-necklace Miss Pentangle gave to Hardbroom.
I know she's playing with it like she does after every lessons, like she's hypnotised.

I know they are close, I can sometimes hear them talking through the mirror.
And I'm always surprised to hear Miss Hardbroom laughing with her heart.

Just for her.

I slowly raise my head, looking at her and I can already feel my eyes wetting, ready to cry.
Her smile turns upside-down, with a flicker of her hands she materialises beside me, not too close.

«Can we talk, Miss Hardbroom?»