Goldilocks and the British Accent

15 | Red Face Disgrace.

Goldilocks🚺

     My mind was empty as I walked through the crowded hall. I couldn't feel or hear anything, not even the loud chatter around me. My feet moved of their own accord and my eyes darted left and right, in search of the boy who had started all this.

When I found him, he was leaning against a wall and he was already looking at me. My head became a mess of warning signs and alert signals. I was filled with so much anger, I didn't know what to do.

So I slapped him, hard. I slapped him so hard, I was sure his forefathers were going to hear it, rise from their graves and ask him what happened.

"Sophia," Katherine called as she came to restrain me. "Why did you do that?"

She asked more questions. And I answered none. More people gathered around the scene, some to help Theodore, some to stare, some to ask me how it felt touching his British skin. I stood in the centre of them all and stared into space, lost in my thoughts.

I stood there for so long till they all left and till it dawned on me that, due to my impulsiveness and bad reputation, I would never, ever, get to date Shawn Mendes. And although it was a harsh realisation, I came to terms with it.

Now Theodore lies on the floor in front of me after having fallen off the bed, his left hand cupping his cheek. His face looks red and his hair is a disheveled mess. It gives me a little satisfaction though, to know that I did this to him, that I put him in this state. I let out a chuckle.

"Oh, you think this is funny," he says as he blows strands of hair from his face.

An even louder bout of laughter comes from behind me and I turn to see the nurse hunched over, hands clutching her stomach, laughing her glasses off.

"Aren't you supposed to be the nurse?" I ask in confusion. "Shouldn't you be helping him?"

"Dear me, aren't you a student?" She asks, standing up straight. "Shouldn't you be reading some books in the library or doing some homework? But no, you'd rather go to parties and stay up late and do Skittles! You deserve every thing that's happening to you now honey, so learn your lesson quietly and don't ask any more questions."

I nod and conclude in my head that she must have had a troubled childhood and that I shouldn't blame her for having an eternal vendetta against teenagers.

"Look Sophia," Theodore says as he supports himself with the bed. "Thank you for coming here and all but I reject your...apology. If you think saying sorry is going to fix all this, then you're clearly bonkers. You've made everything worse, as usual. This...war is only beginning."

I sigh as I stare at him. At this moment, the only thing more bruised than his face is his ego. He looks like a sulking three-year old, an amazingly gorgeous one, but a three-year old nonetheless. "There's no war Theodore. There's just you trying to ruin my life and there's just me, waiting for karma to catch up to you, which it will. It's only a matter of time."

He pauses for a second before scrunching up his eyebrows. "I'm not trying to ruin your life."

"Oh, forgive me if I don't know what to call it when someone makes life hard for you and tries to sabotage almost everything you do, on purpose."

"I was teaching you a lesson," he huffs. "And you should've listened on the first day when I warned you."

"Because I replied you in philosophy class? That's what this is about?" I ask. "I barely knew you for crying out loud."

"You literally challenged me on your first day. Who does that?"

"You called Descartes an idiot. And it was my first day. You were a rude shít."