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Nyla's P.O.V
It took Tyler and me approximately ten minutes to find room 60 and by the time we did the first period had already started. So, we departed, after celebrating our victorious adventure with a cheer.
And by the time lunch came around I was ready to leave. The courtyard was crowded with students shouting over one another and it was giving me a gigantic headache. I dodged stray students and walked across the oval, heading straight for the old Oak Tree.
The base was surrounded by luscious green grass that was protected from the sun by the trees hanging leaves. I sat, my arms crossed over my belly, back leant against the hard wood and analysed every student I could decipher.
The sports fanatics, the gossip girls, the good boys and girls, the tech group and the food junkies, were all in view. And none of them caught my interest. I sighed, standing to dust off my pants. I turn to face the huge tree. If my footing is right, I could climb it... My hands grip the bark tightly, I slowly lift my foot to press against the bottom of the tree. Putting all my strength into my leg I lift myself up to the joint in the tree. Suddenly my foot slips, my knee scraping against the loose bark. I hiss in pain and annoyance, jumping back from the tree.
I lean over to investigate my fresh wound. Yeah, I've seen worse. I frown at the small graze. The blood slowly trickling down my knee. "You should get that checked."
My head snaps up to see Cleyton standing above me. "It's just a graze, I'm fine." I huff. I am fine! I push past him and stalk towards the classrooms.
***
The bus slowly fills with students as they trickle from inside the school. I catch my brother watching me from beside his mate's car. I stare at him raising a brow, he frowns looking away.
I feel the weight of a body sit beside me. "Hey, sorry. That seat is reserved-" I stop to see Tyler sitting beside me. His blue eyes shining with amusement. I lift my head, "I suppose my friend Nyl have to find another seat."
"What friend could be better than me?" He laughs, wriggling his eyebrows. I roll my eyes in response.
"One adventure doesn't instantly make us 'friends'".
"And why not? Everyone knows the characters become friends after an adventure." I sigh. This isn't like the movies, Tyler.
"You know, Peter Pan and Wendy. They went on the greatest adventure only to return back and end up strangers once more." He looks at me with a gleam in his eye. "What?"
"Nothing." He smiles still staring at me. I frown a little, looking away self-consciously. "Guess you just forgot about Tinker Bell."
***
The bus ride was quiet and awkward, to say the least. No one spoke! It was mainly just Tyler humming tunes to unknown songs, while I stared at the passing houses counting mailboxes.
The house was quiet when I got home. Dad must be still at work. I drop my bag at the front door, removing my shoes. I jump at the sound of my phone, slipping the cool metal from my back pocket I check the caller ID before answering, "Hi, Daddio. Yes, I'm home safe before you overreact."
"Good, now before you overreact, I'm going to put this in the no negotiation pile. I booked you in for a therapist." My mouth drops open.
"A therapist? Dad, I do not need a therapist!"
"Nyla, you went through a hugely traumatic experience, Ny to put it lightly- you need help." I frown. I am fine!
"Fine! I'll go." I exclaim, hanging up. "But I need a ride..." My eyes drift to the window showing the house across the road. Deon's car was parked in the driveway, and I suddenly realised that I was home alone. I hurriedly chucked my shoes back on and rushed across the road.
The white Victorian style door was almost the same as ours I noticed as I knocked on the wood. The door opened almost instantly. Deon's face appearing at the front. "Hi..."
"Hey, Nyla. Anything wrong?" He asks, smiling. I shake my head, no.
"No, I'm fine, but," His eyes connected with mine and I was sure that his eyes were lighter before. I shook it off, can't have been. "I need a lift to the therapist; can you give me a ride?"
"Sure, just let me grab my keys." He smiles, shutting the door returning quickly after. We jump into his Ford Mustang Ute and he starts us off down the road. "Address?"
"Um, let me just ask my Dad..." I trail off, already getting my phone out. He replies instantly, I recite the address to Deon and he nods wistfully. I smile. "You have a nice car."
"Yeah, thanks. Guess my Dad has nice taste." We laugh. He turns the radio up, the music of some new pop song filling the car. It didn't take long to reach the place, Deon pulled over and rested an arm on the left side of his chair.
"Thanks for the lift!" I yell over my shoulder, hopping down from the tall car.
"No problem, Beautiful." He replies, driving off. I smile. Walking towards my destination. Not processing what he said until I stood inside. Beautiful. I shook, a shiver running down my spine.
***
"Nyla Yessler get down here now!" My Dad shouts from the bottom of the stairs. I groan.
"Coming!" I slide from my bed and quickly place my hair in a ponytail. Rushing downstairs. "Yeah?"
"Nyla. School just started and you aren't even out of bed. Go get ready and be downstairs in ten."
"Twenty...?"
"...Fine Nyla, twenty minutes. Go!" He shouts, anger boiling inside of him. "I'll drop you there on my way to work."
I begrudgingly made my way back up the stairs. I tiredly get ready and wander back to the front door, waiting for my Dad. He comes around the corner in his suit, grabbing his keys off the hook and I follow him outside to the car.
I notice Deon sitting outside his house, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. I quickly bound over. "Thanks for the lift yesterday."
"Lift? I've been sick. I didn't give you a lift."
"Deon, don't be stupid. I came over and knocked on your door, asked for a lift and you dropped me off." He stands, concern laced through his features.
"Nyla, I didn't give you a lift." He says, seriousness evident in his voice.
"You, you didn't say 'No problem, Beautiful'?" Deon's eyes go wide and my hands start to shake. Deon's hands shoot out to grab me as I collapse to the ground. My Dads shrieking ringing in my ears. He was there, he was right there! He could have touched me. The tears stream done my face, running down my neck in an uncomfortable way. My Dad's hand strokes my forehead, moving my hair out of my face. I scream, "He could have touched me!"
***
Author's Note:
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