The Devil In Disguise

CHAPTER 5: The Branded Bad Boy

I breathed in and out again.

It was the first day of school. Mum had taken me to the hair salon last week and got me a sunset ombré — the top of my hair was plum, graduating to purple, to pink, to a rusty orange. It sounds weird, but it looked amazing. Especially with my toffee brown skin. It was so bright and obvious that it wasn't obvious; if he found me, he'd look for someone disguised. Not someone who stood out like a bright flower in a sea of marsh.

In my opinion, it was the stupidest of stupid ideas; but I had no choice. The authorities on my case didn't really object, they just told me to disguise myself as someone else, and Mum had insisted until I got a migraine. Don't get me wrong, I loved it; but I wasn't sure I would love it as much when he found me because of it.

Other than that, I couldn't do much. I put on a bit of concealer under my eyes to cover up my sleep-deprivation and some mascara. Then, after observing myself in the mirror, I sighed.

Look at me, I thought. I had to be taken out of school because of him; now I'm back, I had to be more careful than ever. No social media, no videos or pictures of me online. Nothing.

Look at me. With my bright hair and my contact lenses and my makeup, my navy skirt rolled short, looking like a pretty girl with a normal life. When in reality...

I snapped out of thought. Just don't think about it all, I thought. You'll miss the bus.

Without another thought, I skipped downstairs, swung open the door and walked into the open air.

***

I ignored the strange looks. After all, I knew I'd get quite a lot; my hair was pretty eye-catching. I took a deep breath and walked with my head up high, swallowing the anxiety of all these new people around me. Just keep a low profile, I thought. Make friends, but not too many — or too few, which would be more like what would happen.

I asked the receptionists where my form room was. It was like a common room with a class of about twenty to thirty; but I didn't have lessons with them, unless they took the same subjects as me for our GCSEs.

I sauntered up with confidence. Confidence was key to everything. I didn't have much, but I could pretend, right? I would try, at least.

Breathe in, breathe out.

I pushed open the door to the room with a calm, controlled look on my face. I needed to own this. Please, let this go right, I thought.

At first, no one noticed me. I took that moment to gather my surroundings.

In the corner, there was a group of about six boys, surrounding one particular Greek God. Though he was beautiful, I hid a glare of disgust; he must be the Branded Bad Boy of the year. I was willing to bet that most — if not all — girls were drooling over him, and I made a mental note not to be one of them. I, out of all people, knew how looks could deceive.

On the table next to them were a group of four beautiful, loud, confident girls. They were in on the conversation with the boys and all of them were conversing and laughing like they owned the world; I felt a jolt of jealousy. Why can't I have their life? I thought fleetingly — but I brushed it away like a mere speck of dust. It didn't matter now. I couldn't change it, so I'd get over it.

The rest of the class was spread around the classroom, in their own little groups and tables; but it was evident that they were part of the Popular Group TM (as most schools had) as they kept glancing enviously at the group in the corner, some making funny comments in hopes that one of the Populars would laugh and they would be accepted into a whole new world of fun and parties and friends...