You sigh, noticing how your breath is trembling, betraying just how nervous you felt. You could hear them whispering behind you, and your eyes burned – a sure sign that you were about to cry.
“Hey, Racquel,” Jemima’s snide voice whispers, making you turn around. “Did your parents not know how to spell Rachel or something?”
Anger flares within you. It was one thing for them to insult you, but to insult your parents? That was too damn far. You scoff and look them up and down critically. “Regardless of whether they can or can’t spell Rachel, I bet my parents are a damn sight smarter than yours are,”
You regret your words the moment Jemima’s face darkens. “You’re going to pay for that later, bitch,”
Ice floods through your veins. Why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut? You just can’t resist poking at a sleeping bear. You’d almost made it through the whole day without incident.
You keep your head down for the rest of the lesson, gnawing anxiously on your bottom lip. What’s Jemima going to do? You knew full well that the revenge she and her – for want of a better word – minions will extract on you will be brutal, and most of all, humiliating. They’d cut you off from all your friends, and that meant that you had no-one to watch your back, or defend you from the vicious rumours about you that spread through the school like wildfire.
As the end of the lesson draws near, your stomach slowly fills with dread. You have no idea what they’re planning, but from the way Jemima and her friends keep cackling, you’re certain it’s not going to be nice. You glance around the classroom to see if anyone has noticed. From what you can tell, everyone is fine. But then you glance to the one person your eyes had been avoiding. Kellin. Kellin’s head is down and he is getting on with his work – as you should be – but his knuckles are white around his pen and his jaw is clenched. Has he noticed? No, he couldn’t have. He’s far too wrapped up in being the most unattainable guy in school. Whenever you’ve seen him at lunch, or simply around school, he’s always on his phone, fingers flying across the keypad. Probably texting his super-hot-everything-I’m-not-girlfriend, you think bitterly, slumping in your seat and trying to make yourself invisible.
When the bell for the end of the lesson rings, you spring from your seat and practically run from the classroom. Your internal clock starts ticking: you have five minutes to get to your next class, which is one that Jemima and her cronies aren’t in. You hear someone calling your name as you walk as quickly as you can down the corridor, keeping your head down, but you don’t look back and see. That could be all part of their plan.
Someone grabs your wrist and pulls you forwards, tugging you round the corner and opening a door. You barely have time to register that you’ve been pulled into one of the caretaker’s store cupboards. Whoever has pulled you inside presses themselves close to you in order to make the door shut.
“What the hell?” You squeak, struggling against whoever is holding you in the cupboard. “Let me go!”
“Shush!” A musical voice chuckles. “If you’re any noisier, we’ll get caught!”
“Kellin?” Your voice leaves your mouth in an awed whisper. Kellin Quinn was in a cupboard with you?!
You have to stop yourself from giggling when you realise just how little space there is in the cupboard and just how much Kellin is pressed against you.
The bell signalling the start of the next lesson rings through the corridors and eventually everything goes silent.
Something buzzes against the top of your thigh and you jump, hitting your shoulder on a shelf in the process. “Please tell me that’s your phone,” You whisper.
YOU ARE READING
Band One Shots - CLOSED
Fanfiction**OPEN** One shot requests for band members of your choice.
