Pretty When We Fall

3 - Charming, Until He Isn't

Scarlet Collins

I groaned to life as I felt the plane shudder to a halt. Not the worst landing, but definitely not one to clap for. Only time I'm clapping on a plane is if someone starts blaring Lana and even then I'm commending them on their amazing music taste, not the landing.

Still half-asleep, I rubbed my eyes. "Emmy, are we getting off this plane or what? It's like a sauna in here."

Emmy didn't respond. I blinked, turned right and came face to face with Nick Owens' smug, insufferably pretty face.

"Morning, gorgeous," he said, grin wide. "Sleep well?"

Sitting next to me was a devilish grin, his smile so big it was the only thing you could see. Thank god; didn't really want to see the rest of Nick's face.

I punched him in the arm for scaring the life out of me, "What the hell are you doing sitting next to me? Couldn't wait until we got to school to fucking terrorise me?"

"On the contrary. Emmy said you liked me and that you would ask me out. Got anything to say to that?" He leaned in closer to my face not breaking eye contact with his deep oak tree eyes.

"Nothing to say but this," I said as I aggressively gave him the middle finger right in front of his face.

Nick rolled his eyes and got up to grab the bags in the over head compartments. He pulled them down and chucked them on the seats, only to steal glances at me and smirk to himself.

I don't trust boys, never mind Nick Owens, so when he wouldn't stop glancing at me, I knew something was wrong. As soon as he reached up to grab another bag and stopped looking at my face, I whipped out my phone from my pocket and selected my camera.

I almost screamed. I had thick black pen lines drawn all over my face and circles around my eyes which made me look like some kind of demented panda.

"Nick! I have pen all over my face! I look like fucking Harry Potter if he was a panda!"

He grinned ear to ear, "Better get cleaned up, I heard Miss Grenton is meeting us to discuss head and prefect roles before we get to school."

I could strangle him. And I would've if we hadn't started to move off of the plane. The cream hood of my jumper was pulled all the way over my face to conceal the childish pen marks. As soon as I was down the stairs, I made a beeline for Meghan.

"Oh god! You almost gave me a heart attack, what happened?" Meghan was frantically scanning my face for any signs of pain while Emmy was jogging to catch up.

"Hey Scar, really sorry I switched se- AGH! Why does it look like a kid tried to draw a scribbly cloud on your face?"

I scowled at Emmy while Meghan was searching for a pack of wipes. Miss Grenton could be here any minute and she wouldn't consider me at all if I didn't look promising. I snatched the wipe and scrubbed my face hard.

Around us in the terminal I could see kids whispering and snickering at me. Could the ground just swallow me up? As we moved toward the Harrowhill assembly point, I kept scrubbing. Wiping until my skin burned. Then someone stepped up behind me.

"Hey... Scarlet, right? What happened to your face? It's kind of... red."

I turned - and froze.

Tall. Broad. Brown messy hair. Glasses. And hot.

"Hi... um, do I know you?"

"Yeah. Thomas Wilson. Been at Harrowhill for like... three years."

Wait. Tom? Stable-hanging, socially-invisible Tom Wilson?

When the hell did he become this?

"Oh my god. You look... amazing. Like, actually. How are you?"

Why don't my glow-ups come with a jawline like that?

He smiled - slowly - and stepped closer. Close enough that our arms brushed.

"Better than your face, I'm assuming."

Ouch. Fair.

"Right. Nick," I muttered. "Still trying to scrub it off."

"Say no more." Thomas chuckled and stepped fully into my space, one hand reaching up - not just brushing my jaw this time, but cupping it. His thumb grazed under my cheek, lingering just a bit too long as he tilted my face toward the light.

"Here," he said quietly. "Tilt this way."

I let him. My brain was fried. He was attractive. And touching my face. Something about the way he looked at me made it hard to think. It was harmless. Probably. Right?

"That seems like most of it's off," he murmured, dropping his hand - his fingers brushing along my neck as he stepped back.

I was about to say thank you - and maybe melt into the floor - when the buses pulled up.

"Alright, listen up! All of you who are going for any head or prefect roles please go on bus one, everyone else go on the allocated bus that was specified in the school email you should have received. If you are running around like an idiot, come and see me." Mr Barrett hadn't changed one bit.

The crowd started to separate as I followed the few people onto bus one while Emmy and Meghan hovered over to our usual bus - bus four.

"I'll come over to get changed for No.1!" I shouted over the crowd. My response was two arms sticking up above the crowd and putting their thumbs up.

As the group for bus one began piling into the bus, someone came up behind me, "Need a shoulder to lean on, gorgeous?"

"Will you just fuck off Nick? We aren't even at school yet and you're on my nerves."

"Come on, a little bit of competition. Let me under your skin and see how fun this ye-" I walked off before he could finish talking. Stupid idiot.

I took a seat on the bus and deliberately made a show of putting my bag on the seat beside me so no one could sit next to me. Nick passed me rolling his eyes with his signature smirk plastered across his face.

"Hello everyone, it's great to see you all again!" Exclaimed Miss Grenton. "This year we have decided to quickly pick our head boy and head girl as we have a new and exciting opportunity for both of them! So could Miss S. Collins and Mr N. Serano-Owens please stay on the bus while the rest of you going for head boy and head girl go and catch your usual buses."

A small, sad procession of pupils walked off the bus at hearing the news that they weren't selected for the Head positions. Miss Grenton continued to do a similar process with the prefects before adressing us all, "This is our official Student Board with our head boy Nicholas Serano-Owens and our head girl Scarlet Collins. When we get to Harrowhill, please go straight to your new rooms and make yourself comfortable. As always, classes will start on Monday so enjoy the weekend tomorrow and use today to get set up."

Of course it's Nick Owens. Because the universe doesn't just hate me - it thinks it's hilarious.
Final year, Head Girl... and stuck planning speeches with the walking migraine. All I could think about was the ink still drying under my cheekbones - and the smirk Nick Owens had when he threw my bag into the aisle.

But hey. Private room. Private bathroom. No.1 on the horizon.

This year? It's mine. I'll make damn sure of it.