Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"To conclude, marriage is a scam made up by dress and cake companies and love is a neurochemical con job."
Abigail Taylor blinked slowly, sat on one of the crappy, plastic chairs in the school hall, as she listened to her best friend, Natalia, finish her anti-love spiel. The previous day - much to most students' pure annoyance - the school had announced their plans to put on a fake wedding, hoping for it to prepare their students for... well, for a real wedding she supposed. Abigail was of the viewpoint many were, that forcing them to write vows for one another was utter madness, but for the sake of a grade, she had forced herself through the task. After listening to Natalia's thirty minute rampage, it was clear that she had not taken to the brief so well.
The two girls were currently alone in the school hall - it was mostly abandoned and they often enjoyed spending their lunches in the large, empty space - but the dinner hour was soon ending and the room would soon be filled with the rest of the Year 13s ready for a mass marriage.
"You know you're going to fail sex education," Abigail laughed. "You'd think you don't care at all."
"Ah," Natalia remarked, raising her finger. "That... is because I don't care at all." She grinned.
It was true. Natalia wasn't remotely interested in whatever Four Lane Comprehensive was trying to pull this year. She wanted no part of it. For this reason, she hadn't written vows - as if Jake Brockman deserved so much of her energy - and she also hadn't sought out any wedding-esque clothing. "Dress appropriately." What was that even supposed to mean? She had thrown a shirt she had bought at a Liam Gallagher concert on over a pair of boyfriend jeans, and then slapped her Converse on and considered herself washed clean of the whole fiasco. Abigail, on the other hand, was sat with her hair in a charming up-do, wearing a white mini-dress Natalia thought she may have seen at Zara. At least one of them would be getting a good grade.
Natalia had been standing and she went to go take a seat next to Abigail, when she suddenly felt what seemed to be a sack thrown over her face, and she was suddenly taken aback by the fact she couldn't breathe. Cloth closed tightly around her face and she swung her fist through the air, until it collided with someone who shouted out in pain at the punch and she felt the material loosen from her mouth.
Annoyed, she hastily pulled it away and threw it down onto the floor, spinning around to see who had - from her point of view - made an attempt at murder by smothering. She turned and saw - of course - Jake Brockman, clutching his eye where she had made contact. Normally, she would apologise for almost decking somebody without good reason, but he had almost killed her! And that was good reason.
"You pillock!" Natalia shouted, sending a dull slap of her open palm into his chest. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Jake now stopped nursing his eye - which was temporarily bruised - and picked up the fabric from the floor. It was a sheet of white mesh and now, Natalia realised what it was. She stood quietly and slightly ashamed, as Jake silently tied it into her ponytail.
