The Friendzone Project

07 | No More Running

Paige

KILE'S HAND WAS wrapped around my small wrist. We were both walking briskly, our steps pattering in the pavement. Each step we take was excruciatingly painful for my ears.

Am I doing the right thing? Gosh, I shouldn't have skipped classes! What if a teacher finds out then reports to the principal that I have gone skipping classes. The possibilities!

"Stop overthinking things," Kile rolled his eyes. "I have things under control. You can relax now."

Under control? What the hell does that mean? "Under control, my ass." I muttered lowly, enough for me to hear.

Kile grunted, "I heard that."

I coughed awkwardly. Who knew Kile had super hearing powers. How the hell did he heard that?!

My free hand unconsciously fiddled the hem of my uniform. Wait. We're skipping classes with our uniform on. Oh my God.

This is why I hate private schools. Bennett Private makes us wear silly school uniforms as a sign that we belong to a brand.

Students from Bennett Private has to wear a long-sleeved white polo, worn under by a maroon colored school sweater vest—with the school's emblem stitched on the left side, just right on top where our heart rests. Girls, of course, have to wear a midnight black, plaided skirt that stops around the knee. Boys, on the other hand, wear black slacks that is neither too loose nor too skinny. Just right.

I scoff at the thought of our uniforms. No wonder there are students who alter just a bit of their uniform. Some girls prefer to wear the skirt a bit shorter. I, on the other hand, prefer to fold the sleeves of my polo, it's quite annoying especially when you get to eat.

Not that the administration can do anything, they're dealing with the daughters and sons of big-time people. Probably why they don't mind us doing it as long as we wear their brand.

Transferee students are lucky. They get one week of freedom getting to wear whatever they want in school. They're given a week to prepare the uniform, and for me, that's enough time.

My mind wanders to Kirsta Williams. Lucky girl but with no sense of fashion. I wonder what kind of family corporation do they have. Getting in to Bennett Private is no joke, everything practically screams expensive.

I shook my head. Why am I thinking of her at a time like this?

I take in the surroundings as Kile and I are walking. We shouldn't be too far from school yet. I recognize this street, we're going towards downtown.

"Uh, shouldn't we take off our school vest or something? People might know which school we came from and they might report us for violating the rules and—" I was cut off by Kile, who was laughing.