I Don't Like Badboys...Seriously | ✓

Chapter Thirty Three - The Flare Gun is Fired

Chapter Thirty Three – The Flare Gun Is Fired

Three confessions. Three guys. Three upcoming tests.

The fantastic rule of threes had struck again. The first two were supposed to be positives, but decision making had never been my strong point and they were taking time from the third.

I had no idea what I was going to say. To any of them. I quickly scanned the yard before bee lining for the lockers. As I passed through the door, I felt a hand tug at my arm. It was Dean.

"Hey. What's up?" I said frantically.

"I feel like acting isn't really the direction you should take for a future career." He let go of my arm. "You're being all weird, and I know exactly why."

I shifted the weight from my right to left leg and grabbed the straps of my bag tighter.

"Look, I'm dating Ella and the last thing I want to do is make things awkward between you and Ella. The thing is, you and I both know that all the cards are on the table now," Dean began. He muttered awkwardly, wrapping his hand around the nape of his neck. "The last time something like this happened was with Carla. They didn't talk to each other for over a month! Give them an answer soon. Don't tear them apart like Carla did."

"Sure," I said. I'll try. Dean grinned and waved as soon as Ella appeared in the doorway. "Okay lovebirds, I don't need to see this," I laughed.

I could deal with the whole 'matters of the heart' things later. For now, the chemistry, physics and maths tests would keep me more than sufficiently occupied, which gave me more than enough reason to keep my head down and my pen moving during each and every class.

It also gave me enough reason to bolt out of the school yard after school. Winter was a pain because it rained, stormed and made me almost freeze to death, but summer was arguably worse. The sun seared my skin, the heat prickling my flesh.

None of this was different when I walked home that afternoon, and I could have sworn it was the hottest afternoon all year.

"You're home early," my mum said as I walked in through the door. "Can you wash the stack of dishes in the sink from last night? I'm exhausted after work and cooking dinner."

"No!" I shrieked, a little louder than I had intended. Sweat was running down my face and I was pissed off enough that Mrs Smith had suddenly added an extra section to the upcoming test. "I'm tired and it's hot!"

Couldn't I catch a break!? "Come back here!" My mum yelled as I stormed off to my room.

I tossed my bag in the corner of the room and headed straight for the bathroom. I got out of my uniform and got into the shower, putting the cold water on full blast. I let the cold stream run down my face, reigniting what was left of the life in me.

After changing into my pyjamas, I dragged my books out from my bag and set them on my wooden study desk. Physics was coming up first, so it was my top priority for now. My eyes were about to drop out of my head after the first two pages on the theory of relativity. If there was anything I hated most, it was trying to understand something that seemed so abstract. Sure, projectile motion; gravity acts on the object causing it to move in a curved path. Time dilation? Length contraction? That was definitely not my speed.

The only thing that stopped me from falling asleep and drooling all over my stuff right then and there was the call from down the hall for dinner.

I hated dinners like these. There was a stony silence and I avoided eye contact. I could tell my mum was angry, and I knew it was my fault. She worked hard, and all I could do after school was give her attitude. But there was no way I was going to apologise or start conversation; I wasn't going to give in. I had a huge and fragile ego.