She Sees Me

Chapter 1

My friends think I'm crazy. I know they do, I see it in their eyes when I'm talking, hear it in their voices when they tell me she's not real. She is real! She sees me, and I see her. I'm not crazy.

I jolt, head turning to Louise, her hand on my shoulder. If we hadn't been best friends since we were born, I'd probably throttle her for scaring me. She, however, whips her blonde head back and laughs hysterically.

"Got you! Zoning out again Abbie?" Linking her arm through mine, she herds me to our English classroom.

My eyes stay fixated on the new girl leaning against the girl's bathroom door, her gaze burning into me. I smile, nod at her, despite knowing she will completely ignore me. Just as she has done for the past four weeks.

"I don't get why she's so rude." I know I'm sulking, now how completely childish it looks, but I can't help it.

"Why? Who's rude? Oh, that mysterious girl you keep telling us you see," Louise turns her head to the left, nodding at the door leading into the English block. "Nice to meet you babe."

Biting my cheeks, I say nothing. There's no point arguing with her, not when she's rolling her eyes and laughing at me as though I've made the joke of the century. I just want to get this day over with. With our final GCSE exams looming over our head, the pressure is exhausting. I'm not a nerd, not by any means, but I've worked hard these past few months to get the As my teachers have predicted. It's the only way I can get into Chester university and escape my parents. Even if it means doing extra revision lessons with Miss Collins.

There's something weird about her. I can't quite put my finger on what, but she's definitely not normal. Everyone else in our class thinks she's the best, probably because she lets us use headphones while we work. But I don't trust her. It's another reason my friends question my sanity.

"Come on Abbie, I'm just playing. Why've you got to be so moody for?"

We're outside Miss Collin's room now, lined up like year sevens in the crowded corridor. I know she's in her room, I can see her through the slit of window on the classroom door, bending over a desk talking to another student. I shudder, knowing full well the effort that poor boy is putting into not gagging at the overwhelming smell of cigarettes, coffee and sweat. We all know far too well the gasp for air when she walks off, overly exaggerating the swaying of her hips.

"I'm not. I'm just tired, I was up all night trying to cram everything in for our maths exam," taking a deep sigh, I lean my head against the wall. "I'm gonna fail, I know it. My life is over!"

Louise slides into the spot next to me, nudging my shoulder. "You and me both. Let's say we ditch all this and marry some rich guy, huh? Who needs GCSEs for that?"

I open my mouth to respond, a smile on my face for the first time that day, but it is Miss Collins' voice that echoes in the now still hallway.

"Erm, year eleven, is this how we stand outside our classroom? This is unacceptable behaviour, okay? I expect this from my year sevens. Now get into your seats and get your books out please."

The chorus of under the breath groans around me earns us all a glare from Miss Collins as she stands in the doorway, one hand on her hip, the other outstretched with her finger pointing to our desks. Sliding onto my chair, I wave at Chris, the guy I've been crushing on all year. He nods his head once, before resuming whatever dull conversations it is that boys have with each other. Probably about football or something else not even remotely important.

The whiteboard at the front of the class, covered in smudged ink, lists our revision tasks for the lesson. Romeo and Juliet. Again. I swear I could answer an exam question on this play in my sleep. Who wants to learn about some couple who dies anyway? Oh yeah, spoiler alert. They kill themselves in the end. Morbid, right? You wouldn't catch me doing that for some guy I'd just met. What a pair of absolute idiots.

I lay my head on my arm against the desk, copying quotes from the play that show the theme of tragedy. Point, quote, analyse and repeat. I can't even read a book now without analysing why the author gave a female character red nails. Because naturally, women wearing red makeup just has to be a sign that she's seductive or something. I used to love reading too. Typical.

The clock above the door ticks, the hands moving back and forth, stuck at twelve o'clock. I wish they'd get that fixed. Risking a glance at my mobile, a shadow looms over my desk. Ah damn it.

"I do hope that isn't a phone in my classroom, Abbie."

With closed eyes, I swallow hard. Pushing my self back into my chair, I try in vain to escape the stench coming from Miss Collins as spit rains down on my desk. A series of ooohs surround me. A stubby hand uncurls, fingers wagging in anticipation for my belongings.

"But Miss, the clock's not working and I wanted to know the time!"

Another finger waggle. "Are we boring you? Phone now. You know the rules."

I don't mean to slam my phone into her palm, don't mean to hurt her. I yelp simultaneously with Miss Collins as the phone slaps loudly onto her flesh. No-one says a word. All eyes are on me and Miss Collins, wondering what's about to unfold.

"Get out of my classroom. Now! You can come back in when you think about your attitude. You've earned yourself a detention young lady. The rest of you can get back on with your work, thank you very much."

Louise's face, pitying smile, disappears as Miss Collins slams the door in my face. Well that was rude and uncalled for. She best give me my phone back at the end of lesson.

Stuck up cow.