Chapter Forty Eight

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Aurora

I couldn't shake the pit in my stomach for the entire journey to school. It was mine and Harlow's first day at Whitley and although I was looking forward to it originally, I had come to the realisation that morning that going to Whitley meant facing Natalie and Maeve. Sam had assured me that he had ceased his friendship with the two, but I didn't have to be a genius to figure out that Natalie was a manipulative bitch. I was just glad I had Harlow by my side, at least for the most part. There would come a time when we would be separated due to our subject choices, but that was just something I was going to have to deal with.

"Rory, Harls!" Joe's voice pierced through my negative thoughts, his ever-joyfulness placing me into a false sense of security.

"Alreet, Joe?" Harlow grinned, readjusting the backpack strap on her shoulder.

"Weird seeing yous here," he commented, throwing his arm around my shoulder.

"Weird being here," I told him.

"Not seen Sam yet, eh?" he asked.

"Nah, he's probably running late, ya know how he is," I snorted. "Any chance ya can show us where we're off?"

"Aye, c'mon, I'll show yous," he smiled.

The first part of the morning was spent getting an induction from the headteacher. It was by far the longest assembly I have ever had to sit through. I spent the majority of it texting Sam, which probably wasn't my best idea as he was most likely in a lesson.

"Thank fuck for that," Harlow muttered under her breath when Mr Goddard dismissed us all. I stifled a laugh, pushing up out of the uncomfortable plastic seat I had been forced to sit in for the last two hours. The two of us burst into a flurry of conversation as we roamed the corridors, following the crowd in an attempt to find the common room.

"Urgh, it's lush to sit on a chair that's actually comfortable," I groaned after throwing myself down on one of the cushioned seats next to Harlow.

"That was painful," Harlow agreed.

"Yous must be new," a tall brunette grinned from the seat adjacent.

"That obvious?" I snipped sarcastically.

"Feisty," he smirked. "I'm Kieran."

"Rory, this is Harlow," I replied, scrunching my nose up in distaste. I wasn't quite sure what it was but there was something about Kieran that I wasn't a fan of.

"There yous are! Told ya they'd be in here," Joe's voice reverberated loudly around the room, his form soon following with my boyfriend by his side.

"Hello, stranger," I greeted as Sam plonked himself down beside me, Joe seating himself next to Harlow. I knew that he had a late shift last night, evident by the dark circles beneath his eyes. It was no wonder he was late for school. I smiled as he rested his head on my shoulder and closed his eyes, my hand automatically reaching around to play with his thick hair.

"Serious? You're friends with these losers?" Kieran laughed. Sam, who clearly hadn't taken note of the boy, snapped his head up from my shoulder, his eyes opening abruptly.

"Oh, come off it, will ya?" Sam groaned, rolling his eyes.

"The fuck did ya just say to me?" he spat, violently pushing himself up from his chair and over to Sam.

"Whoa, what the fuck is wrong with ya?" I growled, standing up so I was chest-to-chest with him. More like face-to-chest because of our height difference.

"Rory," Sam muttered, standing and grasping my wrist softly.

"Move out of the way, princess, this don't concern you," Kieran snarled.

"When ya threaten my boyfriend, it kinda does concern me," I spat, tugging my arm from Sam's grip and taking a step towards the tall boy in front of me. "And call me princess again and I'll rip your fuckin' balls off."

"This bum's got a missus?" Kieran cackled tauntingly. "Fuck me, what's he giving ya, princess?"

I gritted my teeth and lifted my knee to his groin forcefully, fed up with the shit sprouting from his mouth. He doubled over in pain, holding onto himself and groaning loudly. With a smirk on my face, I bent down so my mouth was close to his ear before speaking, "I told ya to stop calling me princess. Now, fuck off." I straightened up, sending him a death stare with my arms folded firmly across my chest as he hobbled away in agony before retaking my seat on the chair next to Sam, who only stared at me in a mixture of disbelief and pride. "What?"

"That was fuckin' amazing, Rory!" Joe squeaked.

"You're a heathen," Sam snorted, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his chest.

"Rich coming from you," Harlow snorted from beside me, pulling her phone from her pocket, most likely to text Dean and tell him the events of the last ten minutes.

"How long has he been bothering ya?" I asked Sam quietly but he only shrugged. I sighed and lifted my head from its place on his chest and stared at him. "Sam."

"Don't worry 'bout it, Scarl," he frowned. "Kieran's a dick to everyone."

"It's true," Joe piped up. "Him, Dylan and Ethan are stuck up their own arses."

"Reet," I muttered disbelievingly. Sam held his arms out with a pout, urging me to fall back into them and as much as I didn't want to cave, I could never resist those blue eyes of his. The four of us fell into conversation about the painfully long assembly Harlow and I were forced to endure, interrupted only when I heard my best friend curse under her breath.

"Fuck's sake," she grumbled. My mood followed suit when I heard a familiar voice echo around the room.

"Oh, well, look who it is!" Maeve spoke with an overly fake smile as she and Natalie walked through the door.

"Aye, Tweedledee and Tweedle-fuckin'-dum," Harlow scowled.

"Nice to see you, too," Natalie scoffed, taking a seat next to Sam, much to my distaste. "Sam! I've missed ya, ya didn't call me back last week. No worries though, ya probably didn't see it! How was your summer."

The familiarity in her tone as she spoke to my boyfriend made my blood boil and my insecurities spiralling. Sam had assured me after we had made up two months ago that Natalie wasn't someone to be worried about nor was he planning on keeping her around, but her words planted little seeds of doubt in my head.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Natalie," Harlow spat before Sam even had the chance to reply. "I watched him block ya two fuckin' months ago."

I was almost giddy at how her face burned brightly and her mindless sputters, desperately trying to produce a quip but was too consumed by the embarrassment.

"I told ya, Natalie, ya don't get to chat shit about me girlfriend and expect to stay my friend," Sam told her firmly, his arms tightening around me when I tried to pull away from him.

"But I-I... that's not- I..." she sputtered.

"Take the hint, bitch!" Harlow snarled, sticking her middle finger up at her.

"Let's go, Maeve!" she hissed, darting out of the room, followed by her minion.

"Good riddance!" she yelled after the pair, falling back into the cushioned chair with a prideful smirk.

"You're a fuckin' legend, Harls," Sam grinned.

"I know," she beamed.

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