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

Chapter 6

Estelle's POV

It's been a few days since that thing happened and I had quite a rough time getting over it.
Amy hadn't been to school for a few days and I promised her I would tell her friends that she was just sick.

I got dressed and brushed my teeth before I ran off to Amy's. I got in and walked up to her room, to see how she was doing.

"Hey Elle!" She smiled as she stepped out of the bathroom and wrapped a towel around her hair.

"Heya, you okay?" I asked. She nodded, "I'm alright. Probably back in school next week, no worries."

"Does you mum know already?" I asked as I sat down on her bed.

She shook her head, "No, and she's not going to."

I shrugged a little. "Fair enough. Anyways, I'm off."

"Please forget to bring my homework today??" Amy chuckled.

"I'll see what I can do!" I smirked. I gave her a quick hug, walked through the kitchen, grabbed an apple and went outside through the backdoor.

"Estelle. You're late." Mr. Simpson sighed as I walked into the classroom. "Again."

"I know, I'm sorry." I said, rolling my eyes as I walked to my seat.

"This is the last warning okay?" He said before turning back to the blackboard.

Half an hour into the lesson, I saw a piece of paper on my desk. I unfolded it.

I see Amy is still sick. What a dramatic, whiny bitch.

I turned around to see which of the four send me the message. I saw three if them writing in their exercise books and Ross was grinning at me.

I crumpled the paper, got up from my seat, walk over to Ross and swung my fist at him.

"Don't you fucking say that about Amy!" I yelled. Ross held on to his cheek and his eyes widened.

"Estelle!" Mr. Simpson said, raising his voice. "Principal, now!"

I gave Ross a last, angry look and walked to my seat to grab my stuff. I walked out of the classroom and straight to the principal's office.

I was lucky that the principal was in a good mood. She let me do my story and only gave me a month of detention. And I had to apologise to Ross. Which I wasn't going to do though.

I decided to eat lunch alone, because I didn't want to talk to the lasses today. I'd been avoiding them all morning. I knew they would ask me about the outburst. And I didn't want to talk about it. Not with them.

After lunch, I had a free period that I wanted to spend in the library. I walked down the hallway and to the right, entering the library. It was nice and quiet, just a few people were there. Mostly studying.

I searched the shelves for books about photography, so I could make my homework in the weekend.
I let my fingers run against the backs of the books as I read the titles.

"How's your hand?" I heard from the other side of the bookshelf.

I peeked over a row of books and sighed, "Fine. How's your jaw?"

"Also fine." Pete answered. "You hit pretty hard."

"Good. I hope Ross thinks the same."