Girls Astray. [Complete]

Amy: The girl who waited

The last school bell rings throughout the cubicle; the walls vibrating against the shrill screech. My head drops into my knees as I curl into a small ball.

'Lolita seriously I need you right now! I'm still in the girls loos for crying out loud!!!!!!!!'

Send.

Still nothing. I've been here all day. No one's come to see me. Not even a well meaning teacher. It's just me.

I take a deep breath and suck in the oxygen around me; filling my lungs to their full capacity. I need to get out of here. My body doesn't move an inch.

Two sharp knocks bang on the cubicle door immediately breaking my trance. My heart accelerates and I hold my breath, willing myself not to breathe, not to move a muscle. Don't make a sound.

"Amy is that you? It's Mrs Stretch."

Maybe she'll disappear if I stay silent for long enough. Think the doors jammed or something?

"We're incredibly worried Amy. Your parents are in the school office waiting for you."

That gets me. I crumble into a puddle on the floor as the door swings open.

"Oh Amy," Mrs Stretch says sympathetically, shaking her head slowly, "what happened?"

"I was a complete idiot, Miss." I manage to splutter as the snot pours down my face.

"Come and wash your face. We can fix this Amy. It'll all be better in the morning."

Weakly, I smile up at her kind, concerned eyes and crawl towards the bathroom sink.

***

It didn't get better.

Not only do I have a headmaster's detention for bunking lessons, not only am I grounded, not only did I have the humiliation of facing everyone at school and hearing their jaunts, I now have social media to contend with.

Who knew Amy was such a whore?

Slut.

I'd do her- she's got gr8 tits! 0-0

What kind of girl posts something like that? And a 'That Girl' writer. Disgusting.

My eyes scan down my Facebook page and I'm bombarded with comments- judging me, laughing at me, 'complimenting' me. The last one has struck a chord. What kind of girl am I? I write for thousands of teenagers, I'm a role model, have I jeopardised everything?

My face hits the cold pillow and my throat clams up. Surely I have no more tears left to cry.

Bzzzzzzzzzz.

Lifting my head half an inch I turn and look at the screen.

The name catches my attention immediately: Alex Coleman.

'Amy Lolita's gone.'

My heart plunges into my stomach. My tears stop in their tracks. Gone? When did she go? Gone, where?

I picture her walking away from me; the vacant look in her eyes and my jaw suddenly drops. Surely not?

Maniacally I dial Lolita's number, then I will for her to answer... Pick up Lolita. Pick up.