𝙴𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗

69 2 4
                                        

𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑 𝟹𝟷𝚜𝚝


The Classroom, reflecting the blues and greens from above, looks as though opals embed its foundation. Of course, this is no dictionary-definition classroom, but rather the code word for Banksia High School's neighbouring spring. The common for potheads and nerds and dropkicks and overachievers. The spring carpets much of the view, a calm expanse. Scents of frangipani and amber accompany me – Callie's perfume. Summer is over, the warm weather is ceasing and yet, it is always with me. My best friend sits beside me on the woven rug, crunching upon veggie sticks and dip. I strip layers of paperbark into confetti. Ironic, however. Keeping good grades has never been more difficult. And like my post-maths headache, I as a whole am also invisible – to Mick.

This was the year I was supposed to get things right. Receive exceptional grades. Perfect my appearance...

Callie insisted we come to The Classroom for recess, although we normally sit here for lunch. I suppose we do have an early finish today or at least, that's how we treat it. What we really have is a double study period, but we just begin the weekend early.

"We should head back or we won't make it for English," I say to Callie, having tapped my phone for the time.

I go to stand up when Callie places her hand on my thigh, "I have to tell you something."

Callie's chocolate eyes gape into my own as the beginnings of her eyebrows lift. Callie begins, "Reef told me some info on Mick."

"Go ahead," I say, remaining seated on the rug.

With a second breath, Callie discloses, "Mick said he isn't willing to commit to you in case someone better slash else comes along —"

My heart falls through the cavity of my ribs and into my stomach. As though I'm on a rollercoaster – but the carriages have separated from the tracks.

"Ditch his heartless ass," Callie continues, now leaning in, "Because you are the best he'll ever get."

I stand up and sling my backpack over my shoulders. I respond with logic, "It's not like Mick and I were going to end up together. Mick's been ignoring me for almost four weeks."

All this time, I've been wondering about Mick. Thinking of Mick. Pondering as to whether he'll ask me on another date and when. I've been a fool.

Callie too stands up, "Believe me when I say this: Dating you has inflated Mick's ego. He's landed the prettiest girl in school and now he thinks he can date every one of the other girls. But what he's failing to compute in his puny brain is that none of the other girls will take him on as a charity case."

"I'm not the prettiest girl in school," I say, watching Callie fold her throw every which way to get it inside her backpack, "There are many prettier girls than me."

Namely Seraphina.

"You didn't want him as your boyfriend," Callie reminds me, but her tone borders the remark between a statement and a question. I know my eyes are prickling.

"Then why does it hurt like this?" I suspire, my voice giving way.

Callie steps into my sphere, her arms wrapping up around my shoulders. My head lulls over one of hers.

"Maybe the problem is me," I say, my voice a whimper.

"The problem is definitely not you," Callie affirms me, rubbing my shoulder.

"Mick is charismatic with everyone else," I continue, "Even the teachers like him."

"You can do so much better," Callie says.

𝙾𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝙴𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜Where stories live. Discover now