Rouge At Dawn

Chapter Eight

Another (short) filler chapter, so don't have high expectations for this one. Sorry, everyone, but I promise Chapter Nine will be a LOT better. Next chapter is where the story properly begins and the plot builds up. Honestly.

It'll get much more interesting as the story progresses, so please bear with me and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Also, I was wondering if anyone would be willing to make a banner for this story? I'd love it if people could so I could post it on the side of chapters :) I'd also dedicate a chapter to you.

Please leave any comments/votes and I'll be really greateful! Enjoy!

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Chapter Eight

"Better start our daily morning jogs again, at the rate you’re going, Layla," I joked, giving her a playful shove as we made our way off the campus field. She simply stuck her tongue out at me, pressing her hands over her stitch at her side.

“We’re-” huff “so-” huff “LATE!” Layla screeched as we raced down the empty halls, skidding on the shiny white floors.

“Maybe next time you should-” huff “skip the makeup!”

Layla groaned in defeat, pushing herself faster as I dragged her from ahead. Mental note to self: persuade Layla to wake up a good half hour earlier to go for morning jogs.

We gradually slowed down until we reached...the door.

But it wasn’t just any door. It was ‘the’ door.

Layla gulped loudly, and her eyes darted frantically behind her, as if searching for an escape from Mr Gateway’s wrath. Mr Gateway was the renowned, most horrifying, intolerant and rudest English teacher on campus. I really couldn’t stand the man.

Layla was truly terrified of that man. If you could even call him a man. More like a monster of some sort. Layla wasn’t the only one scared of Mr Gateway though – almost every student at Heathrow High was terrified of being listed in the black book of that teacher.

I, however, was past giving a care in the world. So long as my grades were good, I did whatever I wanted when it came to prissy teachers who needed a piece of my mind.

I sighed, shaking my head at her. “Come on,” I urged her behind me.

She looked at me with a ‘don’t-you-dare-do-what-I-think-you’re-about-to-do’ look, to which I gave her a devious smirk, as well as a wink, before turning the handle and opening the dark wooden door.

Time for the master to do her work.

In front of me stood a tall, portly man, with beady, hawk-like muddy green and brown eyes, dressed in an antique grey suit, with immaculate, shiny black shoes, stood in front of a sea of my classmates. As if having anticipated my arrival, the entire class turned in my direction, smiling and chuckling knowingly. Mr Gateway stopped mid-sentence, before turning in my direction, sending me an accusing glare.

“How nice of you to finally join us,” he called out in his scratchy voice. Urgh, this man irritated me so, so much.

“Hmm?” I turned around, as if to appear unsure to whom he was talking to, whereas, in actual fact, I was looking to make sure Layla had followed me in. As usual, I was right. She must’ve decided to take hideout just around the corner. “Oh don’t be such a pussy, Mel!” I called out in her direction, loud enough for the whole class to hear.

The silence of the classroom had now faded, as various friends I hadn’t seen since last semester chortled quietly behind their books.

Layla walked in, rolling her eyes at me, before returning back to chewing her bottom lip nervously as she watched Mr Gateway.