Ordinary Girl [MIKA Fanfiction]

2

It must have been about 5°C outside, but that didn't stop me from sweating insanely the moment I left my house. I couldn't tell if I was shaking because of the harsh wind, my nerves, or some cruel mix of both, but I attempted to ignore it and focus on the scenery. I realised, I've never properly noticed my surroundings. Sure, you know where different areas are after a while of living somewhere but people tend not to focus on every detail of nature. Personally, I think it's a shame, although I can't deny that I'm also guilty of being oblivious.

I allowed a peaceful smile to form on my face as I took in every wrinkled leaf, every splintered branch, every scratched stone. It was breath-taking. London was beautiful.

Of course, my tranquillity had to be ruined at some point, so I wasn't surprised when the silhouette of my future college appeared in the near distance. I gulped and held my head up high, knowing my fake confidence would soon fade away and leave me vulnerable. Nevertheless, I was determined to prove to myself that I could do this. I could last at least one day.

Soon, the whole building was visible. It looked like something from the Victorian era had been preserved from many centuries ago, it was intimidating. Glass windows ran straight up the red-bricked walls, separated by the decaying ledges between them. The roof was triangular and pointed, mimicking the structure of a church. The stern appearance didn't quite help my nervousness, however I didn't let that stop me from marching up the marble steps and straight through the arched doorway, which seemed to stretch upwards for miles.

To my surprise, the inside was the complete opposite. The wooden floors were fitted with colourful rugs, student artwork plastered the freshly-painted, cream walls and expensive-looking laptops and TV screens were dotted around randomly. It felt friendly, and for a second I wasn't scared. Just excited.

"Excuse me, Miss?" I turned around sharply, wondering what had interrupted my daydream. A wave of panic washed over me as the look on her face implied she had been trying to catch my attention for the last couple of minutes.

"Hello, yes, hi." I mumbled idiotically, keeping my eyes on the embroidered rug.

"Your name?" The lady asked, unimpressed with my lack of attentiveness. She wore a tight bun on the top of her head that stretched her eyebrows halfway up her forehead.

I felt myself blush with a heavy shade of red, "Oh, sorry, erm, I'm Alexandra Williams." I didn't even want to think about how stupid I must have looked.

"Williams, Williams, Williams," she quietly repeated, flicking through a folder full of bright white sheets, "ah, Williams. Here, this is your personal timetable. Don't lose it." She emphasised the 'don't' as if she expected me to lose it straight away, which isn't unlikely if I'm honest; I'm a very clumsy, forgetful person.

I awkwardly walked back towards the entrance where she was standing and picked up the perfect, crisp piece of paper that I knew I would ruin in a matter of minutes, "Thank you." I managed to force a smile but couldn't look directly at her. My hands were sweating so much that the ink on paper was already smudging. Humiliated, I wiped each hand on my jumper before holding the sheet close to my face.

I'm not good at reading, I was diagnosed with dyslexia at 6 years old and ever since I've tried to hide it from people. It's not that I'm ashamed of it, it's just that I don't want people to make a fuss over me or treat me any differently. That's why I was forced to leave my last college; they assumed I was continuously failing my subjects because I wasn't smart enough, rather than knowing the truth.

I know what you're thinking, why didn't I just tell them and get the extra help? Well, all through high school I was bullied, tormented and teased because of it, so when I could finally leave for college I didn't want anybody knowing. It was like a fresh start. Hopefully, this will be an even fresher start. One that won't end so awfully.

The squiggles of ink on my sheet seemed to squirm around every time I focused on a new area. Determined, I held it even closer to my face and tried so hard to read that I could feel a stabbing headache emerge from the back of my head.

'Monday... 9:00... F...', that must say Form, right? What else could it say?

Suddenly, I was slammed down to the ground, my sheet flew out of my hand and I looked up, shocked and confused.

"I am SO SORRY!" A tanned, hazel-eyed boy was staring at me, desperately apologetic. He knelt down and scrambled for my paper as a singular, perfect, caramel-coloured curl fell in front of his face, "I don't know what to say, I wasn't looking where I was going, I'm so so sorry."

Mesmerised, I forgot to speak and couldn't help but stare at him – I was making eye contact! I shook my head, "No, no, it was my fault, I'm sorry. I wasn't looking, either."

"Well then we're both to blame," he giggled softly, dimples forming in his cheeks as he flicked his curl out of his view. He stood up and reached down for me, though it still took a few seconds to register that he was gesturing towards me.

I grabbed his smooth hand. He pulled me up easily and, still holding eye contact, smiled again. That was when I noticed I had been smiling too, the whole time. I shyly pulled my hand away and looked down at my feet. I was wearing a black pair of converse but he... his shoes were very bright. Neon blue, matching his glowing skinny jeans. It looked like he'd coloured his clothes in with a highlighter, and it made me happy for some reason.

I felt myself blushing an even heavier shade of red than earlier. I could feel his gaze on me, I had to do something to escape the situation. "I have a lesson, so I should probably, erm..."

"Oh, yeah of course. I'm Mica, by the way."

"Mica?" I'd never heard of that name before, I was intrigued but instantly regretted showing any interest as it would most likely lead to a conversation (as you may have guessed, I'm not too good with them).

I looked up for a short moment and saw him smile warmly, his dimples seeming to be stronger than before. He nodded, "M-I-C-A. But I'm thinking of changing the 'c' to a 'k' because almost everyone pronounces it wrong." He must have picked up on the confusion painted on my face as he then continued: "My real name is Michael. I was named after my father but my mother wanted me to be called Mica instead, so... that's it." He laughed again, triggering butterflies to attack my stomach so intensely that I thought I would faint.

"Wow! That's really interesting, I'm just Alexandra." I practically whispered.

"Just Alexandra?" he nudged me playfully. I laughed much louder than I hoped I would, it came out in a quick burst and I shut myself up immediately. "I should be going too, but I'll see you around, Alexandra." He gently swept over each syllable of my name, leaving me speechless with his voice replaying in my mind.