Self-Defined

Chapter Two

After searching for my first class for 10 minutes, I decided to give up and sit in the hallways. It was in C block, but the whole school is joined up by endless hallways and so many doors. I was so bored, I contemplated on whether or not to actually do something productive. I decided against it and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter from my pocket. I lit it up, smoking it as I sat there in silence. I pulled out my iPhone 5 from my pocket and opened up Tumblr. It was my other escape. My blog was as depressing as a girl on her period, but my followers didn't mind. I have over 5000 of them, all as depressed as me.I reblogged a few depressing quotes from movies and jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder. 

"You shouldn't be smoking in the hallways," I looked up to see the same boy I had bumped into earlier. "If the teachers catch you, you'll probably get suspended." He looked like he had a story as well, but I bet he was just another one of those guys. "You're Carissa, right?" I nodded my head. He sat down next to me, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket. "Everyone's talking about you. Do you have a lighter?" He asked, placing the smoke between his surprisingly straight, white teeth. I handed him my yellow lighter and turned away as he lit it up. He placed the lighter on the floor and took a big puff of the toxic smoke. "Do you talk or what?" He asked me, looking at my shirt. When I didn't reply, he just said, "Sleeping with Sirens are pretty cool, but you should listen to Iron Maiden or Led Zeppelin." He stood up, taking off his leather jackets to reveal a Led Zeppelin tour shirt. 

"I do," I said, picking at the seam of my jeans, awkwardness rushing over me. Who was this guy and why the hell is he talking to me?

"Woah, you talk?" He questioned me, noticing how nervous I was. I chuckled and stood up. My pjone fell out of my pocket and the boy picked it up before I could. Just to my luck, it was still unlocked. I saw him typing something in and handing my phone back to me, locked. I sighed and walked over to the nearest trashcan, throwing my smoke in, making sure to put it out first. He followed me but didn't even bother to check that the cigarette was out. "What class are you supposed to be in now?" He asked me, looking me up and down. I nervously shifted, not wanting him to look at me.

"Maths A with Mr Foldman," I told him, crossing my legs so he would get the memo and stop looking at me. He erupted in a field of laughter, clutching his chest like he was going to explode. "What's so funny?" I asked, almost immediately feeling self-conscious.

"It's Feldmen, not Foldman." He released his chest and wiped away non-existent tears.  "And I have that too. We should go because I can't afford another after school detention." He slowly moved down the long hallway, gesturing for me to follow him. And I did. 

We finally arrived at the class that I had been searching for for ages. It just-so-happens that I had 'accidentaly' walked past it about a dozen times. Woops, my bad. He knocked on the door, "Just agree to everything I say, okay?" I nodded. Suddenly, the door flew open and there was a grey-haired man standing there, not looking impressed. 

"Ah, if it isn't Luke Hemmings an- oh, who's this?" He asked, pointing his long, bony finger at me. I just stood there in silence not knowing what to say.

"Carissa, she's new. And I was just helping her find her way here. She was kind of lost." He apologised to the old man, cursing under his breath as he walked away. I stood at the front not knowing what to do until I saw Luke gesture me over to him. Luke Hemmings. Luke, Luke, Luke Hemmings. His name was nice. Simple, but nice. I liked it. I walked over to him, head down as I passed the other students, making myself as little as possible. I sat in the very back row with Luke and pulled out a book from my bag. I hadn't even realised I had been in the middle of completing a song that I wrote until I heard Luke's from next to me. "What is that?" He asked me, pointing at the lyrics I had scribbled down. I quickly closed my book and shoved it in my bag, not wanting him to see the things that I write.

"Mind your own business," I whispered, packing up my things as it was almost the end of the lesson. I heard little to none of that class. The same for all of my other ones. I just kept feeling eyes stabbing into my back, knowing that people were judging me, no matter where I went. When the bell finally rang for lunch, I packed up my things and ran for the girls bathrooms, not wanting to even come across anyone.

Boy, was I wrong.