Falling Like The Stars || UNDER HEAVY EDITION ||

Four

The clatter of sniveling crammed the lavatory, as I locked myself into a cabin to howl my rant out. First day of hell.

I snuggled my face between my hugging knees. What in the world had I had done so awful that I had to be punished this severely?

I just wished for one good era in my life, and this was the consequence. I sat there in silence, reviewing the occasion over and over in my head. It was his entire blunder and I was the one who had to suffer. I recapped the words his friend uttered to him.

"Jake, get away. She's infected."

The guise on his face—that false pretend of compassion captioned his struggle to get way. If he thought I was so foolish that I'd deem on his understanding and flop to consider that he tried to run away too, then he was guaranteed to be wrong.

If this was how school was going to be, then you can bet I had already surrendered. But where I'd go if not here? Mum didn't want me at home either, did she now?

I was just hustling over that contemplation when a rough knock banged on the door. "Hey, get out of here; I need to clean this place."

I brusquely smeared away my tears and leaned against the door for some bare instants. And at that split second, I desired for the greatest sin of all:

"I wish that he would suffer so much until he feels the worth of pain he endured me."

And to date, I regret those words.

***

"Come in," a mild voice stated and I disengaged the door with the bold "Principal David McKenzie" engraved on it.

This journey to the principal's office was rather strange, I'd say. There were five elevators, one case of stairs and three halls, excluding the lengthy corridors with cleaners staring at me, to ultimate here. I should be grateful to the mute sweeper who mustered up to help me reach here.

Nevertheless, he too walked inches away from me.

As I stepped inside the air conditioned room with my eyes lowered on the floor, I was amused to acknowledge that the principal was consulting someone at the moment. And my eyes fled onwards him.

"See, Jake, you need to-"

Jake.

The man with the cylindrical spectacles twirled his direction of sight towards me. "Yes?"

But I wasn't even deliberating on his words. My foremost attention was beheld by the person he was conversing with. The hazel-eyed guy—Jake.

There he was again. I don't know if it was a coincidence or some past kismet, but it surely seemed annoying. I don't really judge people, but this was apparent. He met my eyes in the car, which I understood. However let me remind you that it was him who was also responsible for my whining on the first day of High School. And there he was again.

There was no precise illustration on his face, but his eyes clearly swindled with my essence once more. But this time, I noticed an arch of a suppressed smile on his lips. His vision was fixed on mine.

"Excuse me? Who are you?" The principal pulled my conscience.

"Oh right..." I stammered, trying to avert my gaze from his. I needed to focus on this, not him. "I'm Blake, um, the newcomer?"

So surprising that the principal had not a single clue of who I was when the entire school recognized me from the previous accident.

"Very well. You're the one whose mother called me, am I correct?" The man with the specs edged closer and shook hands with mine. I analyzed that he quickly broke the shake and wiped his hands on his coat.

"You've cystic fibrosis, if I'm not wrong?"

I stuttered and glanced at the guy in the corner, curiosity bursting in his eyes. He crossed his arms, as if waiting for my reply.

"Y-yeah, somewhat like that," I reluctantly uttered.

"Is that why you're wearing the mask? Do you have your immunization record?"

I fairly avoided the first enquiry.

"Not really. I thought my mother already faxed you that."

"Right right," the principal sank back in his seat. "Just a placid question. This disease-cystic fibrosis-it's not curable, is it?"

I'll be surprised at how inappropriate query this was. My glare shoved me with the inquisitive boy at the other end of the room. His eyebrows are raised, lingering for my response. Weird.

"I hope not," I smiled with a dim character on my face. What kind of interview was this? Yet the reply wasn't a lie. I actually hoped this wasn't curable. I didn't want to live as someone with ugly pasts-instead I'd have preferred never having it.

"Oh okay. Here-" The man handed me a paper, "sign your name there. You're in. Section B."

I sneered politely, scribbling my name on it. Blake Williams.

As I offered the sheet back to the principal, I couldn't help but remark the beam on the hazel-eyed guy, who applauded with his palms unnoticed from the Head Teacher, indicating a warm...

"Welcome to Perk High School." The principal peered, showing me the way to my classroom.

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