[COMPLETED BUT WONT LET ME PRESS THE COMPLETED BUTTON AHAHHA]
Aurora Lockheart was once the sunshine girl-bright, kind, and full of life. But one night changed everything, leaving her a shadow of who she used to be.
A year later, just as she's be...
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Everyone was acting weird as hell today. I walked into school this morning, and it felt like the whole place had eyes on me. Whispers trailed behind me, too low to catch but loud enough to make my skin crawl. I'd asked everyone at the table over breakfast, but they all claimed they had "no clue."
Bullshit.
Now I was slumped in the back of Geography, watching yet another documentary on some dull topic no one cared about. Who would've guessed? I was sprawled across the chair, legs casually draped over Gibsie's knees. He was absentmindedly tracing little shapes on my skin with his finger—circles, stars, whatever came to his mind—while he chatted with Johnny, Patrick, and Hughie about God knows what.
Katie wasn't in today, lucky her, hiding away with some stomach bug. Meanwhile, I was stuck here, bored out of my skull. Lola had been shooting daggers at me all morning, her eyes practically burning holes into the back of my head. I had no idea what the hell her problem was, but the way she kept staring was seriously getting under my skin.
"If she doesn't quit it with those bleeding hawk eyes, I'm gonna stab them out," I muttered, leaning my head against the cold classroom wall. The rough surface pressed into my cheek, grounding me, if only a little.
"Who?" Patrick leaned forward from beside Hughie, raising an eyebrow as he followed my gaze.
"Lola," I groaned, rolling my eyes in her direction. He glanced over at her, his expression unreadable, but didn't comment.
"Anyway," I sighed, lifting my legs off Gibsie's lap and raising my hand in the air. "I need the loo. Try not to miss me too much."
"Aurora?" Mr. Michaels looked over his glasses at me, barely interested.
"Can I go to the toilet, please?" I asked, giving my best innocent smile. He shook his head slowly, like he was dealing with a difficult child.
"You should've gone at break," he replied, turning his attention back to his desk.
"Sir, the toilets are always packed during break, and I've got... lady problems." I plastered on a sweet, fake smile, watching with satisfaction as his face turned beet-red.
"Fine. Take your time." He nodded toward the door, clearly wanting to be done with the conversation.
"Bingo," I whispered to Gibsie with a wink before sauntering toward the exit.
I headed to the toilets, relieved to escape the classroom, but as I was finishing up in the cubicle, I heard the door creak open. The sound of heels tapping against the tile echoed, and when I stepped out, I immediately spotted that familiar blonde—Lola.
"Lockheart. Fancy seeing you here," she said with a sickly sweet smile, pulling out a tube of lipstick from her designer bag.
"We're literally in the same class," I deadpanned, crossing my arms. "Plus, you heard me ask to come here."
