Unbroken

Chapter One

I roamed through my school halls in a cyclical motion, desperate to not have to enter my form room and receive the torture of everyone staring at me and whispering about how my boyfriend cheated on me with my best friend. When you're in year eleven of high school, there's enough peer pressure as it is but with a confused ex thrown in to the mix, the pressure turns in to a gossip story, which resultsin my name being spread repetitively through the years, upper and lower.

"There's Ireland Macy, the girl who was stupid enough to trust Luke Archer." I mumble to myself, mimicking what people must be saying about me, as i attempt to hold in the tears, which begin to flood my blue orbs. Eventually, i decide to hide away in the upper year girls bathroom. Hardly anyone ever takes a step through the door so i thought it would be safe from students' prying eyes...and ears. My eyes make a quick scan of the toilets with prove that my assumption was correct. The walls are a neutral colour with mirros lining that wall perpendicular from the row of toilets. I stand in front of the dirtiest mirror, too disgusted to even look at my own pathetic reflection. Nervously, i brush my red-dyed, naturally brunette, long hair away form my face, tucking the strands of hair which used to make a fringe, behind my ears, before splashing cold water over my face and rubbing it up my arms, as i try to pull myself together.

A thought suddenly builds in to my already dmaaged mind, if i don't want to feel as, broken when people ask me to my face, i'm going to have to tell myself. So, painfully, i lift my gaze so i'm staring at the thing in the mirror. I take a deep breath and say

"Luke Archer cheated on you. He used you got ober a year and decided to go ebhind your back with..." I can't get myself to say her name out loud. The one girl whose always been there for me and was the one perosn I least expecrted to do this to me. 

"I'm not afriad." I also beign telling myself.

Finally, i pluck up the courage and root thorugh my black Florelli bag for my mascara and lip gloss. Carefully, i apply the small amount of make-up to my face, my hands still trembling, and leave the bathroom, determined to not let people control my stae of mind, the first boy i loved, was the first to break my heart. It's as simple as that. I check the time on my iPhone and see that there's still ten minutes of form left, whcih means enough time to prove myself to them, show them that i'm not weak. My eyes automatically drop to the floor, as i try to gather my remaining thoughts, which are still swimming around in my brain. My sight is blinded by the floods of emotions pouring out of my mind. Suddenly, i'm woken up when someone calls my name. The soles of my black school shows spin around to face the conjurer of my name. Mrs Weatherfield, the school receptionist, stands infront of me, a smile plastered on her face as her eyes show a sign of annoyance. 

"This is Noah Wesley, he's joining your form today." She states sweetly, yet falsely. My eyes drift towards the tall silhouette standing beside her. And i freeze. His body is built strongly, clearly showing the intense workouts he must interact with. His hair is light bonde, which is cut short, back and sides, his fringe glides gently across half of his forehead. And finally. His eyes. They are a beautiful shade of hazel, which seem to sparkle, as if they're attempting to draw you in. Admittedly, it felt like i was in a trance, but then Luke appeared in my mind and i snap out of it. 

'Not another one Ireland.' I think. He sends me a soft smile my way and i return it.

"I need to gather his schedule so could you please sit in the waiting room with him and make him feel welcome. I've notified Miss Ashley so there's no need to worry about getting to form on time" I let out an unnoticeable deep breath. There goes my plan of not looking weak. I nod in acceptance and before Mrs Weatherfield can say any another word, I say,

"This way." politely and lead Noah towards the waiting room, hoping that my real feelings keep themselves hidden. 

I take a seat a few yards away from Noah, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable, even though he looks perfectly happy. I scan his torso once more and see that he's wearing the required uniform of grey trousers, white shirt and a grey and red striped tie. The only difference between us, clothes wise, is the fact that i'm wearing a skirt.

"Ireland.|" He mumbles suddenly. I look up and find him grinning at me.

"Yeah?" I reply.

"What a unique name you have. Who chose it?" Noah asks, clearly intrigued. Neither of us break our stare.

"Well, my mum and dad were trying for a baby for years but were unsuccessful. They visited Ireland around nine months before i was born and my mum got pregnant. Hence the name, what about Noah?" I ask, suddenly interested in what he was to say.

"Family name so, you're sort of like a four leaf clover? Lucky and unique?" I think about what Noah said for a few seconds and how he answered my question bluntly, as if he was trying to avoid the subject. I decide against digging for more information.

"I wouldn't say lucky but yeah, i guess so." 

"Why? What's happened to make you rethink your luck?" When i don't reply, he smiles sympathetically, understanding that now isn't the right time to be asking.

"Well, you're lucky to me. I've only been here five minutes and i already have a friend and i'm missing, what do you call it? Form time, which you don't seem to like so there's another bonus." I laugh gently and nod my head slightly, like he gestured before, not the time to be asking. 

Finally, Miss Ashley, our form teacher, appears in the doorway. Noah stands up straight away and looks back at me.

"You coming Clover?" He asks funnily. I smile at the nickname he's decided to give me before taking one last final breath and following them towards form. 

'Time to face the music' I think, as confidently as my mind would allow. And for a split second, i had forgotten about everything. 

Everything.