Why Can't It Be Me?

Chapter 4: Oh Pity Me Pretty

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"Bella Stone, please report to the principal's office. I repeat, Bella Stone, please report to the principal's office."

I had finally made it to school and was on my way to English class when the announcement echoed loud throughout the halls. My heart fluttered in my chest. Why would they be calling me of all people down to see the principal? I had never been called to the office before, I kept to myself. Everyone always called me a "goodie-two-shoes", the exact opposite of Damon. I didn't mind that though, I liked to stay out of trouble.

Unless it was for him.

"You may be wondering why you're here, Ms. Stone," my principal's voice cut through the silence of his office as I sat down gingerly in one of the black, worn out chairs in front of his desk.

Mr. Chandler's office was quite big. He had a large square window on the wall behind his desk that over looked the whole of the football field outside and flooded the room with the yellow glow of the sun. The rest of the walls were a deep olive green, and on them hung many pictures of successful graduates framed in shiny gold.

He had a rectangular, light wooden desk and on it was lots of paperwork and a picture of a petite blonde woman who I would assume was his wife. Settled at the front of his desk was a platinum name tag, engraved with his name.

"I'm a little concerned, to be quite frank with you." My eyes shot up from his desk and I stared at Mr. Chandler, more confused than ever.

The man's suit clung tightly against his body, his thicker build stood tall as I looked up from my chair to where he stood. He wasn't an ugly man, in fact maybe he would've been rather charming if it weren't for the years of stressful work that added to his slightly aging features.

"Oh?" My voice was quieter than I expected it to be and I cleared my throat.

"About what, sorry?"

Mr. Chandler half-smiled at me. His chair screeched against the over-polished floor as he pulled it out and sat down behind his desk; unfastening a single button on his blazer as he did. His hands were now perched on top of the pale oak, intertwined with a silver pen settled in between them.

"Well, Bella, your first period teacher informed me that you didn't show up to class this morning?"

My right leg bounced subconsciously now and I could feel the anxiety tighten in my throat as I clenched my jaw. Is he serious? It was the first time I had ever missed a class in the last two years, and I'm called to the principal's office?

"Mhm.. And?" The words are out of my mouth before I could stop them and my cheeks start to burn. Balling my hands into fists on my lap, I could feel my heart racing, pumping faster as this sudden burst of anger coursed through me. I was so tired.

I was tired of always being sad. I was tired of crying, of feeling empty inside. I was tired of pretending to be okay, faking each smile for everyone else's sake. I was tired of being in love with someone I knew I could never have. I was tired of missing my parents. I was tired of remembering and wishing that I could just start all over. I was so tired, but most of all, I was angry.

Mr. Chandler's eyebrows raised slightly, taken a back by my bitter tone.

"Young lady, I don't appreciate that attitude," His voice was stern now and he sighed. "Listen, I know that it has been a hard year for you and I've sympathized, really I have, however, this behaviour will not be tolerated."