destined heartbreakers

chapter 3

her pov

Second day of the new year. Started off with almost 0 sleep because I felt so unwell, but I couldn't afford to lose days off my education this early. I had some paracetamol to put the pain away and trecked to school in the frosty bite of the fast approaching winter mornings glancing into my heart. I had a quickly glance at my timetable before heading to form- Chemistry 1st lesson, followed by Biology and Maths. After spending my 10 minutes blocking everyone out to read one of my favourite books, I headed to chemistry. The taster of triple I had that had stained my tongue like a dye on a tshirt was mediocre, much like every subject- mainly because they wanted us to do well and explained all the exam stuff now when there's still a year and a half of learning to go. But I was eagerly anticipating the second lesson of each subject, where we got to really know what everything was about. Period 1 was Chemistry, followed by biology to make it a back-to-back science morning. I tiredly wondered my way to Chemistry. My teacher said good morning as I walked in, and I was met with some of my class jotting things down, but the sparse seats made me assured to myself I wasn't late. That's another thing I hate: being late. I quickly found my seat as I carefully took out my pencil case and hook from my neatly organised bag, but the looming feeling of being watched lingered on my sense.
"Why are you staring at me?"
"Morning to you too."
This was going to be a long year. Sat next to some cocky guy who thinks he's innocent in every situation: it didn't make me entirely pleased or happy, but I would hate to pass the burden onto my teacher, so decided to quickly do the starter and suck up with "look at me I'm Mr too-big-for-my-boots". I hated it, almost as much as I hated everything else, but at least if I kept to myself it would be semi- tolerable. The teacher asked the class their answer to the question, and raising my hand with confidence, I got picked to answer the question correctly. But for some reason his hand stayed up. The teacher asked him to share what he thought, as he added extra information to my answer to be more in depth and more sophisticated. The words of "this bitch." or "what does he want?" swirled around my head. That smug grin on his face made him to slapable right now and he knew it. He knew he was smart. He knew I was. Rivals we were to be, and he knew it. We both clearly craved attention but in very different ways it seemed: I craved academic validation, the need to get the best out of my knowledge was needed to make me worthy; his was needing the attention from the class to bring himself more to get the best out of his cockiness. And I don't know how much longer I can cope.

his pov

"Why are you staring at me?"
"Morning to you too."

Why was I staring at her? I'd never seen her despite us both going to the same school and being in the same year group for 4 years. I mean when I spoke to my friends at lunch when they were asking about who I sat next to in each lesson, one of them used to live across the road from her. He said she was really nice but very focused; won't let anything get in her way of what she wants. For her it didn't matter how much wealth or information or connections you needed, she'd somehow make everything work with her intelligence. Apparently she'd slowly reform the street she called home for 10 years change into a street of school lovers, and after she left it all crumbled away. People on the street turned to vapes, alcohol, violence and one boy got excluded 3 times in the space of 6 months. It's weird to think that the quiet girl I had to forcefully sit next to in chemistry had this big of an impact on people. My friends kept asking how she was to sit next to, but she didn't talk so I just replied "she doesn't really like me to be honest", hoping she'd feel like that. I hoped because how could I be friends with her? Sometimes you need that person to talk to you , having a sixth sense that somethings wrong, sympathise with you rather than just use loads of scientific reasons as to what causes you to feel sad. I couldn't be friends with someone like that.
Yet I was here. Staring at her as she walked into the room. Her expression seemed soft for now, it's eventually hardening to outline her sleepy worn eyes- clearly it was a rough night of sleep, with those dark circles bruising her skin. Maybe it was from studying too late? Maybe it was a family thing? Maybe she's a phone addict like the rest of us and cannot resist being on it? Who knows, only she does with that beautiful mind of hers. The teacher asked the class their answer to the question, and I saw her raise her hand with confidence, as she got picked to answer the question correctly. I wanted to impress her: she's smart, surely she'd like some competition to burst the bubble of cloud "grade 9". The teacher asked me to share what I thought, as I added extra information to her answer to be more in depth and more sophisticated. The annoyance and anger that sculpted her face made everything taste sweeter, and a smug grin appeared on my face unintentionally. I knew I was smart. She knew I was. Rivals we were to be, and she knew it. And I don't know how much longer she can cope.