Under her sleeves

Chapter 1//High school equivalent of Adam Levine

I groan as my shoulder hits the locker next to me. The cheerleaders laugh, walking away with their football boyfriends. Picking up my phone, I turn it over to see a dent in the screen. Great.

"Here."

My best friend, Lillian, hands me the rest of my stuff that fell onto the floor. I smile gratefully.

"More bullying?"

I nod, not able to speak. The "populars" have been bullying me since 6th grade. We're sophomores and they haven't stopped once. 5 years of non-stop bullying. In 8th grade I had enough and started cutting to cope with the depression and the bullies. Lillian found out and I haven't cut since then.

She smiles and we walk silently to class. The best thing about her, is that I don't have to say anything when something is wrong. She knows I'll come to her if there is a problem.

I take a seat in the back of the class room, looking up at the board. In big, bubbly letters it says "Test today!". Groaning, I realize I forgot to study last night.

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I bubble in the last answer and get up to turn my test in. Avoiding the feet sticking out in the aisle to try and trip me, I set the test paper on the teacher's desk. The teacher is asleep, so I slip out the door and go to the bathroom. No one ever goes to the bathroom on this side of the school, so it's my "getaway in school".

I sit down in a bean bag chair (don't ask how it got there, it just magically appeared one day) and pull out my phone. The dent didn't do too much damage, because my phone still works. I turn it on and unlock the screen.

Me: Come 2 the getaway

L: Still taking the test. 1 more answer 2 go

While I'm waiting I scroll through twitter, looking at all of the hate comments and tweets. They just want me to start cutting again, so that they have something else to bully me about.

The bell rings and I groan, getting up to leave the bathroom. Lillian bursts through the door, throwing my bag towards me.

"Come on, we need to get to history early. Come onnnn."

She pulls my arm, guiding me towards history. What could be so important, that we have to be in history early? We enter the classroom, and no one is there. She's lost it. She's officially lost it.

"L, no one is here. Not even the teacher is here!" I exclaim, setting my bag on a random desk.

"I know that! But we have to get here early to get the best seats."

Sighing at my crazy friend, I grab my bag and follow her to what she calls "the best seats". Sitting down, the teacher walks in and looks at us in surprise.

"I still don't understand why we have to be here so early," I remind my friend, glancing at her out of the corner of my eyes. She turns toward the door, clicking her pen anxiously.

Minutes pass, and I start to feel like Lillia has lost it more and more as they pass. The rest of the class files in, the last trickle of the students rushing through the door as the bell rings.

Sneaking a quick glance at Lillian, I notice she's still staring at the door. It almost looked like she was trying to will someone to open the door and walk in with the force. Anakin Skywalker would be jealous of her very intense "the force" stare.

"Alright class, we have a new student today. Please be nice, and polite. Which means no paper spitballs. No teasing. No rude comments. Basically pretend like you are all unicorns that were born on rainbows instead of children of hades." Mr. Z mumbles, as the principal walks in with a boy.

"Class, meet Shawn Mendes."

Shawn. The name suits him. Okay, everything suits him. He looks cute even in the jeans, sneakers, grey T-shirt, and plaid flannel he was wearing.

"Shawn, you can sit there," Mr. Z points to the seat next to me, and my breath hitches in my throat.

I won't deny it, he's cute. Like the high school equivalent of Adam Levine cute. Shawn sits in the seat awkwardly, and taps his fingertips against the desk. I can hear a faint click with each tap, confirming my suspicion that he plays the guitar. I know because L has the same calluses on her fingertips.

The whole class I take quick peeks to look at Shawn. I didn't pay attention, and I know I'm going to have to ask Lillian for the notes later. I stare at the board with a blank expression, listening intently to Shawn's fingertips tapping against the desk.

"Ella? What's the answer to number 7?"

I snap out of my daze, and look at the teacher. Knowing my cheeks are turning red, I look down to try and hide them.

"35," someone whispers from my right.

I look over surprised, and see Shawn looking at the teacher. He stopped tapping his fingers, and was now sitting up straight. He looks over, and nods his head ever so slightly.

"Um, 35."

Mr. Z nods, and goes back to the board. I fall back into my daze, continuing to sneak glances at Shawn. I don't know why I got a crush on him so fast. Usually it takes a while for me to fall for a guy. But it didn't this time.

Shawn giggles, which scares me because guys don't normally giggle. Looking over, I see he is already staring at me and my cheeks start to burn up.

"What?" I question, staring at the now smiling boy.

"You."

I say nothing more, and watch the seconds tick by on the clock. I start to mindlessly rub my wrists, feeling the white seams along them. It's been so long, that the white seams are starting to go away. That's a good thing, I guess. I got better just by talking to a friend instead of a therapist.

The bell rings, and I jolt out of my seat practically running for the door. It's the end of the day. I can go home, put on Falling In Reverse, and do the homework that I would rather feed to my dog for dinner.

"Hey, wait up!"

I turn around, expecting it to be L, but seeing Shawn instead. He smiles and falls into the slow pace I'm walking.

"Do you need a ride? I have a car. I can give you a ride. I mean, if you want to...you don't have to if you don't want to..." Shawn says, scratching the back of his neck.

I nod, and follow him to his car. What could happen? He could be a serial killer. Or a kidnapper. But I fall ungracefully into the passenger seat and stare out the windshield.

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The car ride was silent, me staring out the window and Shawn focusing on the road. When we arrived at my house, I look up at the looming 2 story home in front of me. This house has so many memories, good and bad, that I almost didn't want to get out of the car. But, I did.

I place my hand on the door, and am about to say thank you to Shawn, when he reaches across and hands me a piece of paper.

"Um, here. Read it. And, yeah...no problem, by the way. If you ever need a ride, I'll be happy to give you one. Bye, I guess."

I stare in confusion at him, and watch him drive down the road. I open the piece of paper and see neat hand writing filling up half of the sheet.

"Ella,
Hey. I was wondering if you wanted to go to the movies sometime?
xxx-xxx-xxxx

-Shawn"