Falling For The Fallen

Chapter 1 - Meeting

This story is inspired by the Hush, Hush series by Becca Fitzpatrick, which I absolutely love! There are a few similarities but the storyline is completely different. If you enjoy reading this I can guarantee these books are for you. I love the relationships between characters and love triangles and the fantasy element. I found Hush, Hush fascinating and I could not put the books down all throughout the series. Please go check them out!

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I rolled into school in my silver Nissan Micra. My used-to-be pride and joy that’s silver doors were nearly white with the scratches that hadn’t always been my fault. Some drivers don’t see much, do they? I climbed out of the car and slammed the door, locking it after. Walking through the front doors, I passed the office with my head low and turned slightly to the right, away from the secretary, Mrs Priply, who always wanted to see how I was coping. My father went missing when I was 13. I’m still not over the shock, but I wish that everyone stopped acting like he was dead. He wasn’t forced to leave home by someone or got lost or went off the rails. It was something that drove him out. He has his reasons and there must have been a good reason for this. He loved my mum and me more than anything else in the world. He wouldn’t just leave us. There was a good reason; maybe it was for our own good or for something that would somehow benefit us. He is not dead and I can’t tell anyone that he isn’t because they take pity on me and think I just can’t cope. So they agree with me as though I’ll crack if I hear he’s dead.

I hear Mrs Priply’s faint “oh” and then walk faster toward the corridor only 3 feet left, she scurries across the main office and I reach and push the doors open. The pitter-patter of her shoes turn into tiny squeaks as they go from pattering on carpet to epoxy flooring.

“Miss Raymond! Miss Ray...” She trailed off, when I power-walked down the school corridor and the door shut. She tapped on the full window in the door with her sharp nails and her voice was muffled through the glass as she called out. Hoping it seemed as though I hadn’t heard her attempts to catch me rather than plain rudeness, I carried on towards class. Feeling her eyes on my back, I tried to stroll away naturally with a happy smile on my face. Drama is hell on earth and I was sure I looked like an idiot with an unnatural beaming face so I stopped trying immediately.

When I appeared in the doorway of my Physics classroom, I frowned. Everyone was in different seats. I glanced at my best friend, Gi Collyweather, who gave me an apologetic look.

“Miss Raymond, please be seated. I have arranged a seating plan for the start of this New Year. I have changed my mind about your choosing. I read an article about the difference teachers can make to students learning when they are forced to socialise with others they wouldn’t have chosen when presented with a choice.” Mr Sharp continued to talk about the article in his physics-teacher drone. I was looking for the only two spots left, One next to Henry Sky, a snotty-nosed kid who was a wiz in science, maths and history. That was not going to be fun at all. If I didn’t fail physics because I had a smarty next to me to make me look stupid, then I was definitely never going to live it up that I chose to sit with him given a choice. Maybe even both, either way neither was an enjoyable thought.

I found the last seat at the front row, next to the transfer student. He was new this year and nobody knew him at all. Maybe, I can be the first to get his story. It took me a moment to realise, as I glanced from the seat to his face,  he was staring right at me. A sideways smile crept up his face when my eyes widened at him. How long had he been staring for? Why was he so unnerving? Whatever it was, I wanted it to stop. I guess that seat was mine now. When I strode up to the seat next to him, I dropped my bag on the floor and sat down on the science stool. His eyes followed my movements and I looked away to stare at a poster some kid had made about forces. Then I traced the dotted pattern on the white surfaces with my finger. I could see his eyes were still trained on me. My face, my hair, my clothes. This didn’t make me giggle or laugh like some girls did when they got this kind of attention. I still blushed, but it was embarrassing how he just stared like he wasn’t actually seeing anything yet seeing all about me at the same time. It felt like he had just opened a private draw with everything there is to know about me inside and I couldn’t stop him from finding out more than I was even close to comfortable with. He just kept rummaging further and further.