Chapter Three: 'Soon moody to be moved'

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a/n: thank you so much for the response so far, your comments are definitely cheering my revision/procrastination filled days! it's so lovely to hear from you guys, please do keep that coming :) much love, Maddie xoxo

Kael got home in a worse mood than he’d left. And that was saying something.

After the incredibly annoying Juliet (he’d taken to calling her Juliet in his mind) had pissed him off by making him feel like a disobedient child, he’d had not only a terrible maths lesson, where he knew more than the teacher, but he’d had an awful Business Studies lesson too. He’d chosen it at this school in a vague attempt to convince his dad that he was taking the opportunity of running the business very seriously. But it was more boring than he’d even thought possible. 

It wasn’t only that. To top it off, the knowledge that Juliet had humiliated him in front of everyone had been pissing him off throughout the lessons and through his one lonely free by himself, which he spent sat outside the common room in the cold November air.

Deep down, he knew that the girl hadn’t actually humiliated him. She’d just annoyed him. Why didn’t she just accept that he wanted to do badly, and let him be? 

Slamming the front door as he came in (not that anyone would be in to hear it, save for the cook and cleaners) he stomped up the stairs to his room, deliberately kicking his shoes off so they‘d be in the way, lobbing his bag into the hallway.

Opening the door to his room, he stormed in, throwing himself down onto his bed with force. Had the bed been any smaller, he might have actually bounced straight off. He lay on his back, moodily contemplating the ceiling. What was the actual point?

He had no friends. And it didn’t look like he’d make any. The group who’d approached him at lunch, a mix of track suit clad girls with orange make up plastering their faces, large hoops dangling from their ears and similarly clad boys bringing with them the strong aroma of low-cost deodorant had been gotten rid of rather quickly. Perhaps, when they had asked him whether he liked the school, he shouldn’t have been quite so derogatory. And perhaps he shouldn’t have insulted their outfits with a disgusted look, either. 

It was a miracle that they hadn’t punched him, to be honest. He’d seen fists clenching, teeth being gritted, and headed out to sit outside. Again.

When he had scanned the common room, he couldn’t see anyone who looked even remotely like his friends at his previous school. Though some of the girls were good looking, he couldn’t bring himself to ogle them: his mind was still brimming with Rochelle. 

Sighing, he propped himself up on his elbows, reaching for the television remote controls. Never had a boy regretted drinking more than he did.

Unlocking the door, Isis let herself in to the house. The walk back from school took a long time no matter how speedily she walked, probably thanks to all the winding alleyways she had to make her way through to get home.

The smell of food met her as she closed the door behind her, locking it firmly. It was just growing dark, the long winter evenings being well and truly upon them, and the dingy flat was darker than ever. Taking off her shoes and lining them up with the other two pairs already there, all as battered as each other, she headed into the kitchen.

The flushed face of her brother, Seb, met her. He was stirring something over the hob, whilst chopping something else with another hand, a tea towel casually flung over one shoulder. 

‘Hi Isis!‘ he said, with a smile spreading across his freckled face. ‘Good day?‘

Isis shrugged. ‘I had auditions for the play,‘ she told him. 

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