I Don't Want To Be Your Secret (Josh McClorey & Pete O'Hanlon/The Strypes)

Chapter 2

Estelle's P.O.V

I got out of my bed and looked at my phone. 6 AM. I sighed, of course I was awake at this time. I had a hard time sleeping since we've moved here. I grabbed my iPod and earphones and put on some music as I searched for some clothes to wear. I grabbed some light colored skinny jeans and a dark green sweater. I grabbed a pair of socks with cats on them and walked downstairs.

My mom wasn't up yet and she probably wouldn't be up until noon anyways. Part of the reason that we had moved here, together with Amy and her parents, was that my mom would be able to work less if she took this job. Which was something she needed, because she been doing that well for a while now. My dad's pretty much out of the picture in my life.
I grabbed a bowl from the cabinet, some milk from the fridge and I searched for the oatmeal. I filled the bowl with milk, added the oatmeal and I popped the whole thing into the microwave.

I had always liked breakfast. It was the one and only meal I truly enjoyed. The microwaved beeped and I grabbed the bowl out of it. I put some cinnamon on top of the oatmeal, grabbed my cup of tea and walked to the living room. I turned on the tv and ate my breakfast.

About two hours later, I heard a knock on my door and I jumped up to open the door.

"Amz! Come on in a sec while I put my shoes on." I smiled.

"Elle you will literally be late to your own funeral." She giggled. I knew she was right. Even when I had all the time in the world, I'd still be almost late.

I asked her if she had breakfast. "I had an apple." She shrugged.

"Apples don't count." I said. I knew why she didn't liked to eat. I knew exactly why, because I had been the same. And I didn't want her to end up like I almost did.

Once at school, we were taken to our form class. Amy looked at me and I shrugged, repositioning my backpack on my shoulder. The teacher walked off and I felt really nervous. Amy looked at me and she was looking way less nervous than me.

"What if they don't like us?" I asked.

"Be reyt." She shrugged. We both knew we weren't that great at dealing with things like this. Amy opened the door and walked in, I blindly followed her. Our tutor introduced himself to us.

Amy decided to be her rebel self again and sat down with her legs on the table, while she played a game on her phone. I rolled my eyes and chuckled as I pushed her legs off the table when Mr. Simpson asked her to do that.

"Why does it always feel like I have to babysit you?" I asked with a chuckle. It was almost time to start the first class. We got up and swung our bags on our shoulder.

"Because I tend to get in trouble sometimes and you're my best mate." She smirked. "You have to make sure I don't end up in jail."

We walked into the maths classroom and, as I expected, everyone started staring at us. I hated being the new kid. I looked at the back of the classroom and saw four lads sitting there. One of them was looking at his phone, his thumbs touching the screen repeatedly. The one next to him was wearing sunglasses, and I had no idea why. It wasn't even sunny outside. He probably did that to look cool or something. On the other two seats was one reading a book, which I liked. He was probably the smartest one out of them all. At least he looked like it. The one next to him was folding paper planes from paper he ripped out of his exercise book. Such a waste of perfectly useable paper.

I sat down at one of the tables at the front and Amy sat down next to me. Of course the teacher had to tell everyone we were new and I tried my best not to sigh. The lad that was playing on his phone already got a warning and I chuckled a little.