Blinded by Perfection

20- A String of Bad Luck

Chapter 20 | A String of Bad Luck

♡○♡○♡○♡○♡○♡

"Get away from her you jerk!" Yells a high toned angry falsetto of a voice.

Noah and the unidentified person both are then sent sprawling into the lockers as the person tackles. My vision flickers black and blue as I recieve deja vu from last night, but I quickly shake it off.

The lockers made a huge banging noise as the person uses the upper hand of surprise against Noah and pushes his face into them. I cringe, not because of this but because they're being really loud. They're going to get us caught and thrown into detention.

The person jabs sharp punches to the center of Noah's exposed back, but not for long. Noah recovers as quickly as his disoriented body can, stopping the harsh blows by turning and countering with a punch to the person's face.

The guy staggers back, clutching his nose. The closer he gets, the more I can make make out his features. He has a head of brown hair, a tall figure, and as he turns to face me, a pair of bright amber eyes.

Chance.

After a few broken seconds of just staring in shock, I gather what's left of myself together and limp over to the chaotic two.

"Stop!" I command, bravely putting myself in between the duo as Noah advances. They both probably could just tap me and I would fall over from mentak snd physical exhaustion, but I might as well try to end the nonsense. I know I'm mad at Noah, but that doesn't mean I enjoy watching him get hurt.

Turns out, neither of them go to against my orders. Noah stops in his tracks and they both resort to staring at each other angrily, chests heaving from exertion. In my opinion, they resemble lions who fought for their rightful spot in the pride.

I pivot on my converse towards Chance, scuffing the floor with dark black smudges in the process. "Don't even bother fighting with him anymore. He's not worth your or my time."

I don't give Noah's presence a second glance, directing my anger towards him to the floor as I began to limp towards first hour. I'm already about fifteen minutes late, but better late then never I guess.

"Kirst-" Chance calls after me, reaching a hand over to stop me with a touch to my shoulder. I recoil so much that I stumble, but he still completes his intended purpose to get my attention. I'm forced to meet my annoyed eyes with his. My once angry expression turns guilty as I gaze into his hurt amber eyes due to the way I reacted to his simple and intendedly caring touch.

"Sorry Chance, just, not right now," I apologize, waving him off before quickly before starting to limp away.

Thankfully, this time I'm not stopped. I feel bad for doing that to Chance when he did nothing wrong, but I just want to be alone for now.  I'm still heated from the unfortunate events that just took place.

That and I didn't have time to have breakfast. I'm someone who is naturally crabby when I don't get food.

I arrive at my locker, putting in the three set of numbers until it pops open. I grab the stuff I need for my class and throw the hoodie I've been carrying inside. It will be too soon if I see that thing in the next couple of hours.

My hair is probably a mess from what it's been through in the past half hour, so I spend a bit combing through it with my fingers. I need to look as tidy as possible, because no doubt as soon as I walk into that classroom as late as I am, everyone is going to be looking at me.

I then head to class, which isn't that far from where my locker is. I reach it in a minute or so.

Gathering my courage, I open the door and step in. Just like I had expected, class seems to stop, for everyone's attention snaps towards me.

The way drama spreads through this school it's most likely everyone has heard about Victoria and I's fight. Based on the surprised reactions scattered throughout the class, they also probably thought I ran away like a coward due to my absence; that is until now. Ha, like that would really happen. Give me some credit here.

Victoria seems the least surprised out of the bunch. She gives me a disinterested look, pausing to flip her her jet black hair sassily over her shoulder before turning to boredly inspect her new acrylic nails.

During this time, my teacher decides to point out the obvious, turning away from the board with a hand on her hip."Kirsten, you're twenty minutes late."

I bite back down a sarcastic comment. "Sorry, it won't happen again," I assure her.

I then make my way over to my seat in the front of the class, converse making loud noises on the floor. It is almost like a replay of my first day of school here. Something happened that caused an uproar about me, and now the class is all up in my case again.

The teacher walks to her desk as I sit in my seat, probably to mark me tardy. In this little break, everyone puts down their work and begins to chatter about me. I'm not making this up, I'm hearing my name pop into conversation every couple seconds.

"These people need a life," I mutter bitterly, slumping the tiniest bit in my seat. I can't help but glance behind me, catching a glimpse of Victoria's wide, white-teethed smirk from a few rows down. I refrain from rolling my eyes. Sometimes, being the bigger person can be tedious.

"Hey Kirsten, how did it feel getting beaten up by Victoria?" Pipes up an unfamiliar voice from behind me. I slowly turn, giving whoever it is the courtousy of a short, tart laugh.

Turns out, it's a boy. He wears big square glasses and an oversized checkered shirt that hangs off his thin bones. He almost looks like Steve Urkel from the best show on earth, Full House.

But then again Steve had way better manners.

"Excuse me?" I respond, cocking my head while keeping a tight smile intact.

He rolls his eyes underneath his bulky glasses. "Noah was right. You really are deaf."

I decide to ignore his comment for his safety.  If I don't I'll become the new Kung Fu Panda.

"Oh totally. She beat me up so bad that I'm in the hospital right now with the whole shabang, IV in my arm and bandaged from my broken bones," I seethe. My fingers toy with the sleeve of my shirt, releasing my anger towards the innocent fabric.

By now our private conversation is the center of everyone attention, but it has zero effect on me by this point. That's the problem when you have a nonexistent filter on your mouth.

"Yeah you did," he sneers. "You were on the ground writhing like a pathetic worm in seven seconds flat. It was kind of comical."

My smile is completely gone now, teeth now clenched in outrage. If you put a piece of something in between then right now, I'd probably snap it like a twig. That's how hard I'm gritting to maintain composire.

"Sarcasm isn't just the only free service I offer," I respond cooly. "You can have this."

I reach over and grab an empty water bottle from the floor, handing it to him. He looks at me like I'm mental, but he takes it with a moment of hesitation.

"Can you please explain why you gave me trash from on the ground? Are you related?"

"It's a bottle filled with shut the heck up, and I think you really need some right about now."

The boys face contorts into an interesting shade of coral, whether it's from anger or embarrassment of getting told off by a girl, I'm not sure. Probably a combination of both.

By now, the whole classroom is utterly silent. You could hear a piece of paper float to the ground if you were here. The only person to break the silence is Victoria, who let out a loud strangled giggle.

"Kirsten, I think you need to leave the class for a bit," scolds the teacher, who expresses her negative feelings towards ny comment by giving me a strong disapproving look.

I shrug my shoulders, shaking my head in a disbelieving laugh. My day has already been unbelievably horrible, and it's only first hour. Could it get any worse?

If I leave, I'll leave with dignity. I don't respond, keeping my chin up as I curtly stand up. With my folders already clutched in my hands, knuckles turning white from the intensity I grip them with, I fast walk out the door.