Catholic School Girls Rule [m.h + g.d]

| ONE |

"Matthew Healy, please come down to the office", the Headmaster of the school called.
I wasn't worried. Hell, I wasn't worried. But with my name being called over the announcements in front of a hundred or so other classes, it still gave me that gut-wrenching feeling in my stomach.
I looked in the mirror of the Boys bathroom and rolled down my sleeves. I slipped my cardigan back on and buttoned it up, straightening my tie and grabbing my bag off of the floor.
I quickly stomped out of the bathroom and down the hall, throwing my bag over my shoulder.
I kept my gaze glued to the floor, for if I didn't, I would have to meet the eyes of the other rats crawling around through this school. Demons that taunted me.
I stopped at the Headmaster's office and breathed before opening the door.
"You can shut the door behind you, if you will," he said. So I did, rather forcefully.  "Take a seat."
I sat down in the ugly gray chair in front of his desk, setting my bag on the floor and leaning back.
"What did you need me here for, again?" I said quietly.
"Well, Mr. Healy-" he began.
"Matty," I interrupted, my voice low and hateful.
"Matty," he said, looking into my eyes with a kind smile. "there are rumors going around that you have been smoking in the bathroom."
I don't think my eyes have ever rolled so far back into my head as they did at that moment.
"And why do you suspect me, sir?" I said.
He tensed up in his spot and turned his gaze to the floor, not saying anything.
I took it as a chance to continue.
"Do you look at me and suspect me as someone who would smoke in the bathroom? A rebel? An angsty teen, sir?", I said with a sigh. "Is it the way I dress? The way I don't talk?"
"No, Matty," he said. "there have been actual suspects claiming they have saw you in there, smoking."
I felt my heartbeat begin to quicken. It was like a kick in the teeth.
"It's because everyone hates me," I said quietly, my eyes wide, my hands shaking.
"No, Matthew. Nobody hates you. But you do know tobacco is forbidden at all school grounds, don't you?"
I didn't say anything.
Truth was, of course I obviously smoke in the fucking bathroom. But no one needed to know that. Well, now they do at least.
"And you do know that you could be expelled for this?"
"But it wasn't me!", I argued.
Maybe, just maybe, I shouldn't have argued back. I didn't care about anything. I didn't care if I got expelled from this dumb, rotten school. I just didn't care.
But of course, my worries got the best of me, and if I got kicked out of this expensive hell hole, I would have gotten beat by my father for days on end.
The room was silent as I felt a tear slip down my cheek. Embarrassed, I wiped it away and stood up.
"Can I go back to class?" I spat.
"We'll figure this out," he responded. "You may go."
Without hesitation, I turned on my heel and ran out of the office, and down the hallway back to class.
I opened the door and made sure to stare at the ground. If I didn't, they would all burn holes into my soul. They would drown me, bury me, hurt me, and I wouldn't stand a chance, because I was nothing compared to them, I was just another flower clinging to the grass during a harsh storm.
I sat down at my seat and set my bag next to my desk on the floor.
"Where have you been, love?" I heard a soft voice whisper.
I looked to my side. It was Gemma.
Gemma was soft, and she was kind. She was beautiful. If she was a color, she was pink. The kind of pink that you thought about painting your room once. The kind of pink that melts into the sky after a long day. She was what dreams were made of.
She was my best friend.
"Headmaster's," I whispered back.
"Oh, no. What have you done now?", she said, a smile tugging at her lips nonetheless.
"Quiet!", the teacher snapped. A scrubby, short, wrinkly old thing.
"I'll explain later," I whispered, and stared at my hands in my lap, my curls falling into my eyes.
I closed them.
I was just resting them. That's all it was. I had no intention of sleeping, though I hadn't slept properly in weeks.
But I was already feeling myself start to slip into a deep sleep, despite the bright white lights and the stuffy air of the classroom.
And I had no intention on stopping myself, either.

"Matthew!", I heard someone shout.
Particularly the teacher.
I rose my head quickly and stood up, looking around the empty classroom. I was ready to run out of there, until she screeched.
"Not so fast! This is the third time you've slept in my class! You know what that means, boy!", she yelled.
I grimaced and snatched the detention slip from her wrinkly fingers.
I walked quickly out of the classroom and to my locker, fumbling with the lock. I rammed my knee painfully into it, trying desperately to get it open, but it wouldn't budge.
I panicked. I was going to be late for class. Everything was going wrong today. Every fucking single thing.
"Need help with that?", a deep voice said softly.
I removed my trembling hands from the hook of the locker door and looked up.
Of course I had to look up, because George Daniel was standing in front of me.
I didn't know why I felt my insides churn when I saw this boy.
I felt my cheeks burn.
"Here," he said, smiling kindly and leaning down. He pushed the locker door forward and then lifted the hook up.
It opened.
"Thank you," I said quietly.
"It's no problem," he said. "I'm George."
"I know," I swallowed so hard my throat hurt. "I'm Matty."
"That's a lovely name," he said, a smile playing at his lips.
My heart was stuck in my throat, beating a thousand times a second.
"Thank you," I repeated, my hands shaky and my mouth dry as I struggled to make eye contact with this beautiful boy. I grabbed my books out of the locker and then shut it.
He gave a nod and looked at the clock.
"We'll be late to class," he said. "I'll walk you there."
"H-How do you know what class I'm in?", I stuttered over my words like usual.
"I'm in that class with you, love," he said with a throaty laugh.
We began walking, and I shivered, letting that pet name carve it's way into my chest. It rested itself there in my heart.
"Oh," I said quietly, almost inaudibly.
We arrived at the class and walked in as soon as the bell rang. I looked up at him once more and he gave me a smile.
I never smiled, so it was hard to return the favor, but I did somehow.
I sat down in my seat.
"Why were you talking with that fucking freak?", some guy spat.
I felt my heart begin to pound in my chest, my stomach churning. I tried my best to ignore it but hell, was it hard. I already felt tears sting my eyes as some of the others laughed, but I made sure to keep my head low.
"Shut the fuck up, he's not a freak," George said.
"Quiet boys," the teacher said. "today's lesson is about our religion."
'Your religion,' I wanted to say. But I never spoke, and I couldn't, really, not in front of all these people.
The voices of the classroom faded out in my head into pure nothingness as I thought about those deep brown eyes and large, veiny hands. Soft as silk, capturing.
Beautiful.
I let it sink in that George Daniel had defended me.
That felt kind of nice.