The Fire Prince

~Chapter One~

School was bustling with hyperactive and hormonal teenagers. You could practically smell the sweat and testosterone that dripped off the filthy, cracked painted walls. Meanwhile, teachers were screaming at the top of their lungs in a failed attempt to quieten the children and usher them to their classes. But I didn't hear them.

My eyes were solely trained on the different colours immersing, becoming one huge blur, as all raged violently down the narrow halls like a wild torrent that eventually split into several directions. Time stood still, and for a while I was enjoying the chaos, the disorder. And for once it felt good to be back in school.

Unfortunately, I regained my senses when the school bell rang. It was time for the first lesson of the day which was maths - great. It's not that I was bad at the subject, I was terrible at it. I never understood complex trigonometry and calculus, heck I don't even know why numbers exist.

Head hung low, I shifted my weight and headed towards my classroom; but as soon as I reached the entrance I stopped abruptly to see that a paper object with a pointy head was coming my way, and fast. My whole body pivoted, causing long auburn strands to whip across my face. The sudden and impulsive movement made me nearly lose my footing, but thankfully I had successfully dodged the paper missile.

"Oi! Watch it will ya?" hollered a sickly thin boy, whom I almost thought resembled that of a ginormous daddy long leg. He pushed past me, making sure to hit me on the shoulder with a bit more force than needed as he went to retrieve his paper airplane. I grit my teeth and reminded myself that it was just one more year till I would be free from this hellhole.

I slung the rucksack off my shoulder and it landed onto the wooden floor with a resounding thud. I took out the large, orange textbook titled, 'Understanding Pure Mathematics.' A wave of boredom hit me as I collapsed into the small, sturdy seat and began to flick through the coffee stained sheets carelessly. Some of the pages were missing or had been torn from being handed down through multiple owners over the years. Every now and then speckles of dust would escape and it was enough to make me sneeze several times.

I heaved a deep sigh and looked towards the classroom door, awaiting the arrival of my best friend, my only friend called, 'Claira.' I suppose I never felt the need to have any more friends, things would just become more complicated and stressful. For instance, being popular means everyone having access to your business on a daily basis and being hampered with tons of personal questions such as, "Ooh, what lotion do you use to keep your hair so shiny? Are you dieting? Did you dump him or did he dump you?" This is just one of the many reasons why I don't enjoy the limelight.

My thoughts were quickly scattered from my mind as I saw Claira approaching me, her lustrous brown hair swaying left and right, in tune with her broad hips. She gave me one of those dazzling killer smiles that showed off her perfectly pearly white teeth, before sitting down gracefully next to me.

I would never admit it openly but I was so envious of her. What I would give to look amazing, to be amazing. Thinking back, it's quite odd how we became friends. I mean we have completely different personalities; she was a wild child going to all these parties, whilst I preferred to stay at home, curl up on the couch and read one of Enid Blyton's adventure stories.

Claira was super smart, doing exceedingly well in maths and I was the Average Joe, scraping a couple of C's and B's here and there. On occasions I'd get the top grade but it wasn't as frequent as I would like.

But it all boiled down to her being flawless and I...I was imperfect.

However, despite our very obvious differences we've always remained close. I remember Claira had defended me from some bullies in third grade and ever since then we've had each other's backs.