Losing Isabella

Chapter Three- Blast From The Past

"Marcus?!" I asked incrediously.

"Oh hey Alyssa" was his reply.

I guess, that was a yes?

Marcus Silverstein and I used to be best friends in primary school. Notice the use of past tense. We had been there for each other like Bells and I are there for each other now. 

There was this time when I had come home from a horrible day at school and Marcus, who was our neighbour back then, and I had always walked home together except that that day I ran home without him. When Marcus found me crying on the kitchen floor he didn't get angry at me for leaving him behind. Instead I heard the fridge open and a few minutes later a tub of chocolate ice cream appeared in front of me. We sat there on the floor eating ice cream. All that could be heard was the clinking of our spoons as they collided inside the tub of ice cream. We were then of course, interrupted by my lovely mother and her long lectures about how eating ice cream out of the tub would make me fat.

"Alyssa? Alyssa!" someone said whilst shaking me.

My mind raced back into reality. There I was again, off daydreaming.

"Oh sorry Marcus. So what are you doing here?" I asked.

"What does it look like? I'm now officially enrolled as a student of Hennett High School."

"Um...okay. I haven't seen you in forever. What's it been? Almost three years?"

"Actually, it's been four years and three months ever since you told me to ge-"

Woah. I didn't need a massive guilt trip. It was surely going to ruin my mood.

"Ah okay, well good seeing you. Better get to class" I interrupted with a nervous giggle.

He looked at me like I just shaved his head or something.

"Of course. Maybe we should catch up sometime..."

I left him standing there shaking his head in disbelief as I walked off on him mid sentence. Was he actually serious about us catching up? No way in hell was I ever going to be alone with him again. Not after what happened that night. It makes me want to crawl into a hole and cry just thinking about it. This was more news I could tell Bells...except I've never told her about what happened between Marcus and I. I intended to keep it that way for a long time. That's something I never want to re-visit.

I reached the door that led to textiles as I was still bickering with myself inside my head. I looked up at it in awe. It was a normal single wooden door except that it wasn't exactly...normal. 

Two years ago a group of textile students had decided to revamp the much loved room. They dug holes out of the door and used knives to carve in their names. Colourful, see through marbles were used to plug the holes. The light travelled through the marbles creating a mythical feel. If you were to be the door looking at yourself, you would see a rainbow of bright light cascading all over your body and refelcting off the glint in our eyes. The door was also painted a variety of colours with fabric somehow woven into it. 

Stepping through that door was like entering a whole new world. It was also my world. I loved the feeling of the sewing machine under my hands and control as I ran a piece through it. Textiles was my escape. I may not have been very good at having very straight or even stitches but it didn't matter.

Somehow every textiles lesson seemed to zoom past in a flash. 72 minutes of class felt like 10 seconds, whereas 10 seconds of maths felt like 72 minutes. Snore.

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Bells and I sat on a couch in the senior common room. Our most loved part of lunch was observing our fellow peers.The girls in our year level were some of the fakest, two faces bitches you would ever meet. It was ridiculous how ignorant they were wandering around the room with their toasted sandwich. It was always the same sandwich every day. Cheese and tomato.