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Chapter 6- Gimme a Cheer

Monday. Monday mornings. The most hated time of week. Just the the pure feeling of being blinded by sunlight seeping through my feathered blinds and the heaviness of my eyelids makes me want to curl up into a ball and live forever in my own cocoon of soft bedsheets and pillows. Fortunately, I get to skip cheer practice thanks to a very gracious wound currently healing on my leg, and my mother calling up my school beforehand to get me out of going. Not that I hate it, but being captain means I have to deal with bitchy cheerleaders kissing my ass 24/7 in the hopes of getting better routines.

Sleepily, I work up the effort to yank my heavy pink duvet from my tired body and rise myself like a zombie out of my grave. I pause for a moment, pondering the idea of grabbing the nail scissors from next to my bed and shoving them into my throat, to escape the hellhole that people have named "school". But alas, I decide to suffer through another day of torture and slip myself out of my bed. My bare feet tapping the cold hard wooden floor of my bedroom  and over to the En suite bathroom on the other side of the large room.

After I spent an hour getting ready, my makeup and black/gold cheer outfit on-yes I'm one of Those people, I decided to leave my house before I'm late for school and stuck in detention with mrs downe. I grab my key-ring-clad keys and shuffle tiredly to my silver Range Rover, the car I got for my birthday last year after my mother finally got a raise in her salary. The drive to my school was short and boring, it was practically a straight line from my house to the parking lot, it usually took me 5 minuites, 10 if I walked. I slip into my usual parking spot, a small, secluded section of the lot, at the back corner where nobody else parks.

My first class was maths. Ew. The only thing I hate more then loud eaters and spiders are quadratic equations, especially taught by 70 year old women who inherit the remarkable resemblance of a wet otter. The hallway outside the classroom was scattered with posters and pictures of competitions with other schools and winners of god-knows-what with their trophies. The hall was filled with red and white lockers, each one personalised by their owners. My locker was on the far end of the hall, it was covered in pictures of me and my friends, my favourite being a picture of me and julija eating hot dogs at a Knicks game. We made Vince take the photo of us and I've never heard anyone complain more. It's not our fault we had to take at least 50 photos to get the right one!

I got to class just in time and slipped into an empty seat next to a short girl with a pink bow pinned in her ginger, straight hair. To the other side of me, I recognise the quiet new boy from my English class. The boy that sits there looking at me until he gets caught. He was sitting in his chair, hunched over his school desk as usual, his dark hoodie pulled up over his head and his books untouched inside his open backpack. His worn, black bag was sitting slouched, balancing on the leg of his table like  he'd forgotten about it.

Class rolled by quickly, the blessed sound of the school bell ringing, dismissing the class. People were shoving and pushing to get out the door, excited to be free from algebra. With all the excitement, I managed to get tangled between people and slip, spinning around on the spot.

A quick burst of pain struck up and down my leg, causing it to throb and forcing me to grab onto anything I could to stabilise myself with. Unfortunately, the only thing easily accessible to me in that moment of panic was the jumper-clad arm of a teenage boy. I felt the soft cotton pull with my weight and stretch off the boy's arm. The arm Beneath barely flinching. Stiff. I looked up to be met with a sea of colours, eyes like a deer in headlights. In that moment I was paralysed, unable to move my gaze from the face of this boy. His face was perfectly symetrical, his eyes round and empty, like he'd been brainwashed and had forgotten all emotion. His lips were thin, yet pink and parted. The tall boy looked away in that split second, pushing his jumper back down and adjusting himself. He took one last glance down towards my leg, like he knew what was wrong, before turning and leaving the now empty classroom.