Dark Secrets

Rejected

After science the day passed in a blur of pages of homework, glances of Cynthia and jokes with Tristan. At recess I spotted Cynthia under the oak tree again, still writing in that navy blue book. I was so intrigued by the contents of the strange book with its yellowed pages and ratty edges that I narrowly missed being hit in the face by the rough ball as me, Tristan, Angus and the other guys on the team played a round of football. "Dude" puffed Tristan as he sprinted up to me, his face red "You really like Cynthia don't you?". Tristan had spent period 2 in math with Cynthia and he agreed with me that she was cool, just hidden by her camouflage of dark attire.

"No I don't!" I resist, "she's just... Intriguing". Tristan rolls his eyes and chuckles "you're only kidding yourself bro". I frown as I roll the hard ball between my palms, it's rough surface fitting perfectly into my hands from years I practise. "I invited her to sit with us at lunch, by the way" I say as I hand him the ball. "Well" he muses "the guys are gonna be really pissed, Cynthia Rose is as foreign as anyone can get in the desolate town of Overland". I punch him playfully in the arm before Angus yells "you guys done your little bromance session? Pass the ball!"

At the end of 4th period, English, I shove my English book and pencil case into my bag hastily, sling it over my shoulder and walk jauntily over to Cynthia who sits at the front of the class, still hurriedly taking notes. "God I'm glad that's over" I grin as I tap her on the shoulder, causing her to look up from scrawling on her note pad, "Mrs Hibbs is such a bore".

"On the contrary" she says as se carefully puts all of her notes into a blue plastic folder and places it into her overflowing messenger bag. "I like english". I raise my eyebrows warily and she laughs. Her laugh sounds like the tinkling of bells, sweet and loud. "It must be hard for a jock like you to realise that English can actually be enjoyable for some people" her emerald eyes twinkle as they squint in laughter. "Not true!" I reply as I elbow her in the ribs playfully "I actually really like math". She looks at me, her face once again the questioning expression that it wore throughout English as Mrs Hibbs droned on about some long dead writer. "You, math?" She queries, her eyebrow raised. "Yes I am actually very good at math" I taunt. "What a coincidence," she says as she gets up from her chair and swings her messenger bag over her pale shoulder "Math is the only subject I truly despise"

I let out a snort and she laughed at he strangeness of the sound. "Come on" I say, beginning to walk out of the empty classroom and into the crowded hallway "Lets go to lunch, I'm starved!"

As me, tristan and Cynthia step into the crowded lunch room people turn to stare. The vultures stay in the nest but snarl at us from afar. The pyrites are grinning at us demonically as if we are one massive joke. Cynthia's knuckles turn even whiter than usual as she clutched the red plastic lunch tray. As we walk slowly towards our lunch table Her military boots echo throughout the silence, cutting through it like knife through soft butter. The sound seems to wake most of the student front their hypnotisation and the usual clamour and chatter of the lunch room begins to rise again.

We reach the table and are about to sit down when I catch Angus's eye. They are narrowed, and he gives the smallest shake of his head, as if to say 'You sit here with her, and you're out'. I blink, taken back by his abruptness. I though we were friends but clearly our friendship doesn't matter as much as his social status. He wouldn't want to be caught with the "Vampire Girl" even if his best friends thought that she was a nice person, underneath the mysterious and dark glamour.

Tristan seemed to see what was going on as well and his body tensed, toned muscles visible from years of football practise. Cynthia stands unknowing behind me, waiting for our lead to sit down. Tristan and I exchange a quick glance, and we agree silently. We turn on our heels and walk off, Cynthia trailing behind us, her beautiful face twisted in concern and confusion.

"Why aren't we sitting down?" She queries as I scan the lunch room for a place to sit. "Because we aren't wanted" I mutter. Cynthia stares at her shoes and kicks a stray piece of meatloaf on the ground. "You mean I'm not wanted" she murmurs as she stomps on the piece of meatloaf, squashing into a slimy mess. "It's not that" I say turning to her and trying to come up with a valid excuse "it's...". At that very moment I noticed Sylvie Harris stand up and gesture for us to go sit with her at the Fangirl Table. A grin as wide as the Cheshire Cat stretched onto tristan's tanned face as his warm brown eyes spotted his crush, who was wearing an arctic monkeys t-shirt, white washed jean shorts and rusty coloured, once red, vans, her hair piled in a messy bun at the top of her head. "Come on" gestured Tristan as began to jog. towards Sylvie. I looked at Cynthia, shrugged my shoulders and followed.

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Hi guys I normally hate when people do this at the end of chapters but I just wanted to ask for some feedback on my story. Do you like it? Is there something I can improve? Also please vote :) thanks it really helps :P

Evelyn xx