Love, Hate and the Line

Chapter 11

Recap:

I nodded thankfully and quivering, I walked to the small ladder that would get me off of the stage - also known as my personal hell - all the while ignoring the pupils' laughter. I was still shaking, though, so setting foot on the first sport, I lost balance and as if in slow-motion, my feet slipped off of the stainless steel. My arms fladdering around me like a stoned goose, I fell backwards. I braced for the hit but it never came, two strong arms catching me just in time.

Catching my breath, I looked up to see my savior and was stunned to see that it was no less than Ben Ashford. His face sporting an amused look, he smirked:

"Falling for me, huh?"

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My eyes widened in astonishment, I stuttered: "Wh- you- how-"

He seemed to understand what I was asking out of those three syllables, and answered: "I was standing here since the start of the lesson."

I was mortified, realising that he had not only seen me fall down the stairs, but had witnessed my part of King's speech - or rather the absence of it - as well.

Helping me get back on my feet, he cupped my face with his hand, instantly reddening my cheeks. "Are you hurt anywhere? Maybe we should go see a doctor or something, you look a little pale.."

"I'm fine" I muttered, backing away from his touch.

After staring at me intently, he turned to Mrs. Bellane, his hand touching her arm. "Thank you, Mrs. Bellane, for your excellent teaching. I'm afraid, however, that I am going to need Anna for a.. private matter during this period for the forseeable future. That wouldn't be a problem, right?"

Mrs. Bellane, blushing like a 14-year old at the attention, stuttered: "No, no, of course not, don't worry."

"Thank you," he said, smiling charmingly. "I'm sure the principal will appreciate your helpfulness as well."

I rolled my eyes at the sight of Ben using his pretty face and allure to get what he wanted from Mrs. Bellane, who was nearly giggling now. Not that he needed to use his looks since every teacher knew who he was and wouldn't dare to cross him. It was a messed-up pecking order, that was for sure.

He put his hand on the small of my back and pushed me gently out of the auditorium, leading me into a supply closet.

"Seriously, this again?" I sighed.

What happened up there?" he asked, ignoring me.

"Oh, well, I kind of just tripped on my feet when I tried to set-"

"Not the fall, it's clear you're clumsy. I want to know what happened on the stage."

I glared at him. "I'm not clumsy."

The corner of his mouth curled upwards. "Sure you're not. Now tell me what went wrong."

I sighed. "I don't know, I've always had this thing against people watching me, I guess."

"Why?"

"Well, they can see everything you do, every fault you make, every flaw you have. You can't prepare and once you've made a mistake, it's impossible to take it back, to just erase it like you would in a regular paper test. You're open, vulnerable, and you can never know exactly what'll happen the next time you get up on that stage. You can trip, forget your words or in my case, do both. Besides, people are mean. Especially on this school where spoiled rich kids don't get taught proper manners anymore."

I blushed, realising I was rambling.

He frowned. "Are they mean to you?"

I looked up at him, surprised to find genuine concern on his face. "No, not always, it's fine. Can't blame the rich kids, huh?" I joked, but I didn't laugh. In reality, it was not fine. I was sick of the jokes, the bullying, the condescending looks of every single pupil on this school.