For the past year, 18 year old Camille has been getting away with four hours of sleep, a nine hour school day and an eight hour work day overnight. That is until her three teachers and a mystery guy walk into her diner one night.
NOTE: THIS IS A 'W...
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The class is loud.
I am silent.
Whilst they discuss the gossip of the day, I sit quietly at my desk, biting on my bottom lip whilst my legs shake anxiously.
My fingers tap against the wooden table whilst I stare at my laptop screen. It's shut off due to inactivity but I stare at it nevertheless. I watch my reflection in it, tears in my eyes as I see the broken girl I have become.
Falling off the pyramid and losing my best friend ripped off the final piece of tape holding myself together.
The loud conversations around me are drowned out by my lack of life. I stare for the whole lesson, feeling nothing.
The bell rings and everyone stands up, snapping me out of my daydream. I avoid eye contact with Mr Hart but I can feel his eyes burning into me. I keep my head low as I walk out of the room, immersing myself with the body of people.
I can't call them by their first names anymore. They are not my friends. They are my teachers and I can only have that relationship with them.
Anything else would be too much.
I walk to my locker, head down and ignoring the occasional glances from people.
I change my books in my locker, but when I slam it shut, I am greeted by Zoe's scowling face.
"What do you want?" I ask her, my voice and face neutral.
"Thanks to you, I've got a weeks suspension from Mr Lockwood," she spits at me as she leans against the locker next to me.
Her long blonde hair drapes over her shoulders and she flicks, dramatically. I'm surprised she wasn't dress coded for the incredibly short baby blue dress that barely hides anything.
"How is that my fault?" I shrug. She pushes herself off the wall and brings her face close to mine, leaning down slightly.
"If you hadn't have overreacted about me and your brothers, and ended our 16 year friendship, I wouldn't have dropped you," she makes air quotes around 'dropped'.
I scowl her before rolling my eyes and walking away.
"If you're suspended, you shouldn't be on school property," I yell to her behind me. I walk further but look over my shoulder, a small smile spreading across my lips when I see Mr Hart escorting her out of the building.
He smirks away but I turn my head forwards quickly.
Walking out to the fields, I hesitate slightly before walking to the usual bleachers Zoe and I would eat on.
She isn't going to stop me from sitting there, especially since she's now suspended.
I sit on one of the benches, feeling the hot sun soak into my skin. I know my cast will get sweaty from the heat but feeling the warmth on my face makes it all worth it.
Shrugging off my white cardigan, I pull my black skater dress up my legs slightly to allow the sun to hit my thighs. I root around in my bag for my white cap and put it on my head to block the brightness from my eyes.
Placing my earphones in my ears, I select my 'hot girl era' playlist and put it on shuffle.
Relaxing slightly, I watch the other students on the field in front of me. Some were prepared and brought blankets to have picnics. Some are kicking a ball around. All seem at peace.
My back stiffens slightly when I see four familiar men walking onto the pitch. Their strides are so effortless, each step exuding authority.
I can't help but watch them as they sit on the blanket Gabriel places down. Mr Lockwood sits with one leg outstretched and one bent up with his arm resting on it. Mr Whitlock is outstretched on his side, propping his head up with his hand. Mr Laurent has both legs stretched out, leaning about his forearms behind him. Mr Hart is sat upright, with both legs bent.
Somehow, they all look like models, posing for a magazine cover. They have all ditched their suit jackets but the look of their suit pants suggests they are too expensive to wrinkle.
I try to draw my eyes away from them but I can't. My eyebrows furrow as I watch them have, what seems to be, a deep conversation. I observe their serious faces, looking to Mr Hart who is glaring at Mr Laurent.
What are they talking about?
I tilt my head slightly, somehow thinking it will help me lipread but I freeze up when I see Mr Lockwood staring at me.
His eyes burn into me and he smirks, diverting the attention of the others so their gazes are now on me.
Shit.
Not today, satan.
I feel a blush spread across my face and I stand up, grabbing my bag and walking inside. I know they are watching me walk away but I don't dare turn around to check.
I spend the rest of my lunch break in the library, attempting to do some homework on my laptop. It's quite hard to draw graphs on Microsoft Word.
I feel a sense of dread as the school bell rings, indicating it's time for class. I know I have Mr Hart next and I know he won't let me get away with being silent.
I slip into the class amongst the rest of the students and take my seat, sinking down slightly. I know I won't be able to avoid his gaze for long as I am sat right in front of his desk.
But a girl can try, right?
Once everyone has settled, Mr Hart walks in and shuts the door.
"Good afternoon, class," he addresses us as he walks to his desk, perching in front of it. I glance at his suit pants.
No wrinkles.
He looks down to me as he crosses his arms over his chest but I avert my gaze. I see his eyebrow furrow slightly in my peripheral vision.
"We're going to have a debate today," he continues and I look down at my desk, "we're going to discuss whether Hester Prynne was an admirable character." A collective of groans are heard and I smirk slightly, thinking of multiple sarcastic comments that I would have said if I were not trying to avoid Mr Hart.
He divides the class into 'for' and 'against', splitting us down the middle. I end up on the 'for' side and am secretly thankful.
Time for my feminist instincts to kick in.
He directs us to spend twenty minutes preparing for the debate and I start writing down argument points as soon as the laptop logs on.
Although I don't want to take a verbal role in the debate, I can't help myself from spilling onto my page multiple ideas and defences for Hester.
I find myself lost in the task, so much so that when Mr Hart calls time, it feels like we have just started.
"Right, let's get started with the 'for' arguments," he glances around the room, looking for someone to pick on and I keep my head low, silently begging for it not to be me he chooses.
"Miss Owens. Start us off, please."
My heart drops
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It's 2am and I'm writing instead of sleeping.
As an English gal, it's quite hard to write about an American school so if any of you have any advice or experiences to help please let me know. Also if anything is incorrect, please also tell me (nicely) <3
