To Love a Broken Heart

Chapter 21

Walking into school the day after was like walking down the red carpet during a film premiere; it seems everyone had found what had happened the night before, and everyone was curious to find out more. I remember being tugged and pulled, yelled and screamed at, and everyone, basically, encased me in a small circle – which I wasn’t comfortable being in.

Niall and Josh became my personal bodyguards as they endeavoured to barricade the relentless horde of students from getting to close to me. Honestly, I felt like I was Justin Bieber walking down a hallway full of pre-pubescent – and highly hormonal – girls. My friends like a bit of ‘The Bieber’ but I really struggled to comprehend what the hype is all about. Niall began to get irritated and so did Josh, so it came to no surprise to me when I found Niall shoving a boy in our year away.

The atmosphere continued to get heavier as the day continued; everyone, by the end of first lesson, was irked up by all the fuss Alex and Eleanor’s plan incited, superfluously. I mean, can’t the kid just let it go? Some people are gay, it’s inexorable, so why can’t he see that? To exacerbate things, everyone also found out that they have escaped from their cells and now the hallways were full of sad and perturbed faces.

But they had no reason to endure woes elicited by me; it’s none of their god damn business and they have no reason to feel scared for me! I know Alex and Eleanor are out there, waiting for a chance to strike again, probably, and that’s a fact. I can’t change it, but I can face it. As someone once said: ‘Don’t let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game,’ and this game is certainly one I do not intend on losing.

So, yes, I’m ready. Let Alex and Eleanor come because I’m so done with all this bullshit. I’m already facing enough problems with Louis: he hates the idea of everyone knowing about us becoming affiliated. I understand that he needs time to get his head around all this, but, albeit my selfishness, I just want to hold his hand for eternity and not be afraid to show it off to the world. Of course I hope the police find Alex and Eleanor; the idea of meeting the belligerent duo for a second time does not entice me the slightest.

Words couldn’t describe how angry my mother was when she heard the news – after me and Louis consoled her. We paid the police department a visit that night and demanded some elaboration to the current predicament. Turns out: Alex’s ‘uncle’ wasn’t really an uncle, per se, but an old time friend of his father. He was always in the house whenever he wasn’t working on a case, so his presence wasn’t unprecedented to Alex. So as the seconds ticked by, and the days aged on, and the years passed quickly, Alex became closer to him and one day he started calling him his uncle.

Alex’s uncle, John, has been relieved from duty due to suspicion of releasing the cellmates. He is currently under house arrest until the pair have been found. Mum placated a little from hearing that news, but the fact that there are still two criminals roaming the streets caused a regression of peace inside her. There are currently a plethora of search teams scattered around, desperately trying to find a trail or clue to where they could be.

Louis has also been surreptitiously protective over me. In our second class, when a girl was adamant to find out about what really happened, Louis told her to mind her own business and tipped her chair over so that she fell, face first, onto the floor. She got up quickly, her cheeks a burning red from the embarrassment, her petite nose was a little grazed on the very tip and she was glaring at Louis, her blue eyes were like spears of ice aimed at him, before getting her stuff and moving to the back of the room. Louis sat on her chair behind me and chided anyone that made a comment about me.

The situation wasn’t all to malign. In fact, some fragments of it were quite hilarious. Like the amount of rumours and speculations about me that’s been going on. Here are some of my favourites: I was saving Louis from Alex who tied him up and threatened to tell his mother about being gay, and I come in holding the bread knife and trip up, stabbing the palm of my hand  as it collided with the floor; Louis, Alex, Eleanor and I were playing a friendly game of ‘The Knife Song’ game, in which we have to stab the knife in the gaps between our fingers to a rhythm of the song – which drastically sped up halfway through, and I ostensibly stab my palm because I’m a massive failure at the game.