The Literary Misadventures of Juniper Rosewood

30- The Subtle Knife

Wednesday morning brought stomach-churning dread and a grudging reluctance to get out of bed. I had to finish the project in English. And it was never very easy to get out of bed when a maths lesson and a significant chance of public humiliation were inevitable. Stella had been looking at me oddly for the past few days, and I did not doubt that she was up to something. If it weren't for Circe's incredible death glares, she probably would have had my guts for garters five times over already.

I stepped out of the shower and contemplated my wardrobe. I threw on a hoodie and a pair of jeans and trudged downstairs, where my father was waiting with a warm pop tart and a glass of juice for me.

"Morning, kiddo," He said as I sat down at the table opposite him and smiled weakly.

"Hey, Dad."

"What's on your mind?" He asked. I shrugged.

"I don't fancy having an education today." My father laughed, a hearty sound that never failed to lift my spirits, even if it was only a little.

"Your mum told me something happened with that boy. Would that have anything to do with it?" He asked. I took a bite from my pop tart. His eyes were crinkled and kind as they looked at me, but there were bags underneath that told me there was already a lot on his mind. I didn't want him to fret.

"It's nothing that a few days and hanging out with my friends can't fix, dad. Don't worry about me."

"I never stop worrying about you, or your mother, kiddo. I want what's best for you. He seemed like a nice boy. What happened?"

"He cared more about his image than his friends," I shrugged, "I'll get over it."

"That's a shame," My dad said, and he didn't push it anymore.

Emma pulled up to my driveway just as I was leaving. Her battered little hatchback was groaning as she puttered down the road.

"Get in loser, we're going shopping," Emma said.

"I didn't know you were picking me up."

"It's minus two degrees out there," She said, gesturing to the street, which was glazed in a thin coat of sparkling white frost. "Get in the car."

"Alright then," I said, putting my hands up in surrender as I climbed in. "Thank you," I added.

"Don't worry about it."

"We're not actually going shopping though, are we? Because I think we'd be late for school." Emma rolled her eyes and laughed as she pressed on the accelerator and we trundled down the road. It was a little icy, but we managed to get to school in one piece. I thanked Emma and went to my locker.

Stella was leaning against it. A small frown marred her face as I approached, and butterflies started unfurling in my stomach. All I wanted that day was to go back to bed. It looked like I was dealing with trouble instead.

"You're standing in front of my locker," I said.

"How very astute of you," Stella said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. But then she inhaled sharply, as though checking herself.

"Nope, you're not here to be mean, shut up Stella." She whispered under her breath, but I caught it and smiled.

"What's going on, Stella?" I asked. She took a deep breath and smiled warmly. I don't think I had ever seen her face look so sincere or apologetic.

"I came to say sorry. J.B told me what you did."

"What did I do?"

"You broke up him and Etta. He may not like you now, but I'm a fan. I wanted to apologise for being so horrible to you this past week." She sounded so genuine that I was completely taken aback when I heard a chuckle coming from my own mouth.