My Boyfriend Satan

So School Didnt Go So Well

The next morning was a school day. Crap, crap, crappity crap. Hooooooly crap. Our school is a run down, mouldy building for people to drop off their 'perfect' children and leave them to evolve into semi-educated, drug-addicted adults. They have no bloody idea that the place that we have spent the majority of our childhood in is a complete dump, filled to the brim with sadistic teachers and pupils alike. Every girl just as snide as the other, every boy as much of a perv as you'd expect. Judgement round every corner, in every class. No escape for the weak like me. An obvious split between the popular and the nobodies. Rife with bullying, depression and body odour.

I had already pulled a sickie far too much that term and so i packed in my disgusted thoughts and faced the corridors. Milo joined me. We share classes. I'm not a super genius, but I'm not an idiot and I get pretty good results on tests. Especially English. Now, I'm no Milo, but I'm still damn good at English. If I wasn't, I wouldn't be writing this book, but this is nothing I've prepared for. Just thoughts and a record of my life as it were. Walking past the lunch hall, a few smart asses decided to hassle us.

"Hey! Hey seaweed hair! How you doing today?"
"Perfectly fine until I bumped into you!" I shot back. My hairs not even seaweed green. It's emerald.
"Oh and there's her friend, the accountant!"
"Shut up!" Then there was an almost visible wave of realisation that washed over him. "Wait...how do you know mother has the impression that I'm going to be an accountant?"
"Everyone knows! Thanks to your pretty sister!"
"Bloody hell, Lucy!" He murmured under his breath, dragging me away from the hasslers but towards the popular table.
"Wait, milo! No! we can't go there!" I whispered urgently.
"Well we have to! Now according to Carl, everyone knows my mothers evil plans! This could be the ruin of me!"
"Humph. Fine. I'm not saying anything though!"
"Yeah. Sure." He smiled thankfully and then braced himself, walking toward the only pupils who have gained respect from both pupils and teachers.

As we approached them, my hands grew sweaty. The boys I had liked for years sat there. I gulped for my best friend and stood behind him, afraid to show myself. Milo gave a small smile to some of them, probably recognised from various house parties that his sisters held. They stared back at him menacingly, like lions about to devour a weak gazelle. He walked over to Lucy and tapped her on the shoulder. "Can I speak to you somewhere?" He asked.
"Oh. Hey there. And why not here? Whatever you have to say to me can be said in front of my homies, right, lil' bro?" I had said mostly the same thing to lee, but it sounded much cooler coming out of her mouth.
"Well, I'd really prefer not to."
"Too bad cause I'm not movin'."
"Great. Ok. Why did you tell everyone about mother potentially making me study to be an accountant?"
"Louder!" Some jerk at the back of the table called to him,"we want to hear too!"
"Fine," milo called back. "Has my sister, Lucy, not told you all that my mother wants me to be an accountant? And by doing this has she not breached the correct level of privacy to be held between siblings? Without even telling me that she was going to tell the whole school?" There was no response.
"Do you think they understood?" I asked him a little too loudly.
"Yes, Aubrey. Of course we understood. Just because we're more popular than you doesn't make us braindead." Lucy said. I was feeling confident and inspired by my friends speech.
"Well then Lucy, have you anything to say to that?" I asked. Yes, I actually asked! I'm so proud!
"Yes, I do. Milo, I'm sorry. And I just texted mum and she's on her way to shout at you for shouting at my friends." She grinned triumphantly.
"Lucy, one- you're a bitch. Two- how the heck are you getting mother here?!" And at that moment, his mum, followed closely by our pathetic head teacher strutted through the door, her dyed blonde hair flowing magnificently around her shoulders. Students gasped as if in slow motion as the coolest mother in the whole school glided past them, her high heels clacking and her fake face pouting. Well, that was quick.

Milo's mum is terrifying. Even when she's not arguing, you're sure that you're messing up her house and that she's going to scream at you whenever you're round. Or when you speak to her, you're mortified in case you're spitting on her fake-tanned face or her animal print jumpers. This was even scarier than usual. It was in school.

"Milo Albert Felix McWilliams!" You could tell he was cringing already. He hates his name. "How dare you, on top of everything that you have already done this term, shout at your sisters friends?! This is horrifying, to me, and your father. Just when I was starting to have respect for you again, you go and mess everything up! It's not your sisters friends' fault that I am offering you a dignifying career! What's wrong with accounting anyway? It's better than this author crap that you've had your eye on for ages anyway!" His face was red and tears were building up. His face wasn't screwed though. You may not have known it, but my my best friend is very brave. At this moment, his mum decided to pull him into a hug. "You see, Milo, I do love you-" she was cut off by her son pulling away. He was more angry than I had ever seen him.

"Mother! Must you embarrass me this way? I...I'm done!" He shouted, and he stormed out of the hall, followed by me and several dumb-founded gazes. Once out in the hall, I looked around, flustered as hell, and saw the library door bang shut. I ran with as much speed as I could force out of my unathletic legs. Skidding to a halt outside the barely-used library, I opened the door tentatively, expecting to be shouted at. Instead, there was my best friend, sat on an askew table, gnawing his thumbnail. I opened my mouth, but no comforting words came out. I couldn't speak properly. Seeing him cry made me want to cry too. It's not like I hadn't saw him cry before, there were multiple times that I had. For example: when Ve told us that their mum was having an affair, when he realised that his dad didn't love him, when his sisters spent a whole summer emptying cereal packets on to his floor (I don't know why). But this was different. His dream scorned by his mother, and being ridiculed in front of the whole school. It wasn't fair, and it wasn't right. And I hugged him. I gave him a proper hug. Not the fake one that he would have received from his mother. A real heartfelt hug. And he hugged back. He looked so vulnerable, his sandy hair tousled. Yet he still attempted a smile. Milo, my cheerful, pretentious, nerdy, brave best friend. I think it was then when I realised that I loved him. More than, I thought, anything.

We were hugging so much that we forgot what we were hugging about. We looked into each other's faces and his eyes seemed so much more meaningful when they were shiny and wet. I swear that I possibly could have kissed him then, when he croaked out something. "Wait, Aubrey. There's something there!" I turned around, unsure what to expect. Perhaps some paranormal activity, or people watching at the door. Or both. Instead, there was a screen of gold slowly appearing right beside the World War Two reference books. I clutched him tighter. We sat quivering, with our breath held as the screen became solid. Then someone stepped right out of it. His hair was a tarry black and it shaped his elvish face just right. He was wearing a snowy white suit and a black shirt underneath that. Bands of white gold adorned his wrists and ankles. His feet were covered by Roman sandals which looked stylish, but out of place and uncomfortable. He grinned at us. "Hello," he said. He was American! Oh sweet Jesus! "I have come to take you both away to somewhere safe. Mainly Aubrey, but Milo can come too. It's dangerous here for you."