I trudged all the way up to the school, carrying my books and whispering abuse about that boy I just saw, "Maniac. Jerk. Idiot. Arsehole-"
"Excuse me?" I heard a voice inquire before me. I looked up and it was a lady in a pencil skirt that was so thin you would think she was a pencil. She had a pure white shirt with sleeves that went up to her elbows. Her glasses seemed like they were from the last century. And on her blazer there was a badge with one word etched upon it: Headmistress. Shit. First day of school and I'm already in trouble.
"Um, I- I meant, I'm new... So, I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said."
"What did you say?"
"I said... I hate... Broccoli."
She fixed her steady glare upon me with what looked a bit like... Pity. She sighed and walked away, her voice echoing behind her, "You know, you could at least be honest. I didn't know you were a Liar as well as a troublemaker."
"Uuurrggghhh, why is everyone saying that I'm a liar?" I groaned as I plodded through to the reception. The receptionist was a woman in her late 20's. She wore her walnut brown hair lose in a messy bun, her top three buttons on her shirt wasn't closed. Overall, she looked quite disorganised for a receptionist.
"Can I help you?" the receptionist inquired in a droopy tone. She looked like she's been sleeping all her life. Her pen was dangling from her small mouth and she looked like she couldn't care less about what I needed.
"I'm new here. I'm Clarissa Wells."
Suddenly, it was like she woke up out of her daydream as she sat up straight and rummaged through all the files in her drawer, muttering, "It must be here somewhere... Aha! I've found it." She announced as she handed me my file and a leaflet of the school, with the heading as: 'Mrs. Webb is a dickhead." Wow, this school is more modern than I thought. I glanced at my schedule for the day: C6 was written in italics for the room and my teacher was Mrs. Webb. Oh god. I looked back at the leaflet in my now sweaty hands. It must be her. I stopped in my tracks when I heard a boy bolting down the corridor. He had wavy brown hair that seemed perfect even though it was sticking up at different angles because of all the running. It was him again. He collided intro me and I dropped my books because of the collision. I knelt down to pick my books up off the floor and I noticed him do the same. As I tried to pick up my books, I felt his hand brush against mine, it was so warm and my hand felt numb. Abruptly, I looked up to catch a glimpse of his beautiful brown eyes; and to my horror, he looked up the same time as me and our heads collided.
"Ouch!" we groaned in unison. He froze when he heard my voice. "It's you." he said.
"Well, I'm sorry that I was standing peacefully in the corridor trying to find my way around the school, since I'm new. And I'm sorry that you bumped into me."
"Well you shouldn't have been standing there-!"
"And I'm sorry that you find me that displeasing to meet."
"Well..." he retorted, then we heard footsteps up the corridor and he bolted off- again. I sighed and I gathered all my books together. When I finished, I stood up and before me was a poster of Mrs. Webb, with the headline: Mrs. Webb is a dickhead. I laughed as I ripped it off the wall.
"Is something amusing you?" I heard someone rasp behind me.
I swivelled round to find Mrs. Webb staring at the poster in my hands.
"And what is that in your hands, young lady?" roared Mrs. Webb.
"Um- nothing. Nothing." I stuttered as I hid the poster behind me.
"Let me see." she insisted, coming towards me.
"No, I really don't think-" I tried to warn her, but it was too late. She ripped the poster from my grasp and stared at it with disbelief. I sighed. Oh well, I didn't do it, anyway. She can't blame me for finding it in the corridor. But my thoughts of being spared vanished when she glared at me with anger on her face.
"Did you do this?"
"No. I swear I didn't."
"Then why were you holding it and about to put it on the wall?!" she interrogated.
"I wasn't going to put it on the wall!"
"Lies! Young lady, lies!" she bellowed, grabbing me by my cuff towards a door marked: C6. My next lesson.
"Sit there! By McCauley!" she bawled pointing at a boy in the far right corner of the room. McCauley had glasses that were bigger than ugly Betty’s. I shifted my chair to the direction opposite him, trying to get as far away from him.
"This, young lady with lies, is your first lesson in Darkovich High. But I think you have a more valuable lesson to learn first. And that is to control your lying tongue!"
"I'm not a liar!" I screamed at her.
"There goes another one, you are clearly out of control, Miss-" she looked at me questioningly for my surname.
"Wells." I answered.
"Wells," she repeated "and the perfect time to start that lesson is this lunchtime in the headmaster's office for detention."
I groaned. My life just can't get any worse.
Then I heard a sniggering noise behind me. I turned around and it was the boy I had met in the corridor. Boys around him were slapping his shoulder saying, "Good work, dude" and "That was ace!" He replied smugly by saying, "Yeah. It’s just another day in my world." Then when he noticed me looking, he stopped laughing and looked seriously into my eyes. I had that silly feeling again that I felt when he looked at me outside my dad's car. And I thought he was going to say that he was sorry for me. But like before, he just broke into another smug grin and said: "At it with the lies again, Missy?"
Uuurrgghh. On second thoughts, it just got worse.
YOU ARE READING
Breakaway
Teen Fiction'His lose tie was wavering in front of his shirt. And he was, gorgeous. But all my good thoughts about him dilapidated into the cold air when he spoke his first words to me... Uuuurrgghh, one day, I'm gonna get him... How could I think that brat wa...
