Thorns (An EverAfterHigh Fanfic)

~Chapter 2~ The Crying Girl

Hopper's POV.

I high-fived myself as I walked in the other direction to Briar. I was so happy that we had a 'date' of sorts I could have flown to space. I could picture me tucking one of her magenta highlighted strands of hair behind her ear. I could hear my heartbeat flutter just thinking about it, whatever I do I can not turn into a frog. For once I felt in control of my so called 'talent' and it was because of Briar. The thought of her opening her bright eyes into mine was enough to make my smile widen further. If there was a record for biggest smile, I had just broken it.

As I walked I passed Alistair Wonderland, son of Alice, he waved to me and I reached out and high-fived him. Alistair followed me with his eyes down the rest of the hallway turning his head of golden hair ever so slightly when I almost got out of view. A puzzled look drawn across his features. Nothing could make this day bad, even getting embarrassed in front of everyone couldn't bring me down. I was sure of it.

Other people stared as I passed them due to the bubbly walk I had. They all looked so bored, leaning against walls and lockers engrossed in the same conversations. But I was a new man, completely changed. It was like I had just reached my life ambition or come into colour from a black and white life. It amazed me how much it meant to me that she agreed to hang out, it was nothing more to her after all. 

I passed more and more doors to classrooms with no intention of going into one. I just walked for about ten minutes across the looping hallways telling me about the talent show and other charity events. But then I heard a weep. It was a saddening sound, a person sobbing quietly somewhere. My eyes scanned the hallway as a bubbling potion of concern swirled into my stomach turning the lively butterflies to a thick grey dust, but I couldn't see anyone. It was like they were invisible. The sound rang through the corridor once again, making me further concerned and frustrated that I couldn't find it. No gaps between lockers big enough for a student were available, unless they were a creature like I can be, and that was all of the hiding places gone. My eyes trained around the section of corridor in which it seemed loudest until I found myself a small victory. A strand of dark hair curled around the corner of one of the walls, leading to my left.

It surprised me how close to cloud 9 you could get before you fell back down. I could almost taste the victory, now I could taste the mud of the ground I had hit so many times.

"Hello?" I stepped forwards with caution in the direction of the dark thread. The hallway fell silent, only a single almost inaudible sniffle played in my ear drums before the sound disintegrated in front of me. Contemplating whether to turn the corner, I ran a hand through my red hair knocking my crown out of place almost to the point of it toppling off. Continuing my short journey forwards, I had decided I would be helpful in some way if I could, my sneakers squeaked of the polished floor. I grimaced at the cringe-worthy sound, hunching my shoulders over my body and stretching my fingers out like a creatures claws. 

"Who's there?" The voice was raw, unrecognizable even, and quiet like whoever it was didn't want to be heard. They wanted to be left alone, but I had felt that before and actually being alone doesn't help. The voice was high pitched, a females and had obviously been crying for a while. I relaxed my shoulders and curled my fingers back into my palm. 

"It's Hopper, the frog guy," As if whoever it was didn't hear about my frog transformations always perfectly timed with the worst situation possible. I turned the corner to reveal a crumpled up Justine Dancer stained with tears on the floor of the corridor like an old tissue. The Daughter of the twelve dancing princesses looked up at me with her big brown eyes, tucking a piece of brown hair behind her ear. Her cheeks were flushed red and her dress was torn at the yellow skirt and opaque white sleeve. I looked at the damage in shock before asking, "Who did that?"

"I don't want to say," Justine replied simply, looking away at one of the lockers lining the walls. I saw the fear in her eyes like a deep sea of creeping anxieties crashing its waves within her chocolate irises. Sympathy flooded through me spreading slowly like an injection as I thought of who an earth would do such a thing that the victim couldn't reveal the name. What were the consequences of speaking out? And who set them?

"Can you at least tell me what happened?" I pressed my back against a locker after walking to the right side of her and slid down it. The floor was uncomfortable but luxury wasn't my priority. I wasn't known for helping, for being brave or the hero. That wasn't my job, I had been told, I was just a frog waiting to be saved by the damsel. The most cowardly prince. As I joined her in her state of misery, she smoothed down the portion of her skirt not damaged by a tear, making the pink ribbon pattern swirl with the movement. 

"They just came up to me, told me they wanted to talk. An- And then when we were alone they just... took me down like I was competition to them. Just a rival," Her voice was shaken, reliving the moment wasn't something she wanted to do right now. But it played itself in her head whether she wanted it to or not. I knew the feeling all too well. I looked at the sunlight casting a spotlight on no one in the middle of the corridor through the large window and thought for a moment. The only 'competition' important to Justine would be dancing. The only other person dancing in our year, if the attacker was in our generation, would be Duchess Swan. 

Of course it would be, I had to stop myself from saying the name aloud, but if I did the tone would be sour and angry. But I barely knew Justine, so why was I feeling so angered about her being put down?

The question only added to the weight pushing down on my shoulders. How did something so good become so bad so quickly?