GOLDEN (harry styles)

oh, chérie

(12/09/2017)

15 minutes ago...

I fiddle with the pencil in my hands, watching as I make it do small flips and turns under the table. The lead is on it's last string of life. The years of extensive sharpening and many harsh falls onto concrete have made it weak and ready to die. Even the rubber has fallen out, and the once yellow wood has been slowly shredded away.

I'm in physics class. I'm not completely sure why i decided to study this, because to be honest, I could not be more bored right now. I feel like my brain cells are trying so hard to absorb the knowledge I'm blocking out that they're dying at the same time. It makes me want to grab the side of my head and shake out the useless information.

"Miss Oliver!"

I snap my head up. My professor is glaring at me through furrowed brows and narrowed eyes. I gulp when she points angrily at the whiteboard. It's filled with meticulous diagrams that I, funnily enough, don't understand.

"Yes Miss?" I wince.

"What are you doing?"

"Me?"

"No, Nixie, what is Matthew doing? God's sake, what are you doing?" She yells.

A few chuckles and surprised giggles erupt from behind me, but they go silent very quickly when Ms Wills sends the perpetrators a harsh glare. I shuffle in my seat uncomfortably. I don't have to touch my cheeks to know how red they are.

I can feel the burning embarrassment emotionally already, I don't need to feel it physically as well. It's bruising.

"Well? I don't have all day to waste on your useless nonsense." She snaps.

"Sorry, Miss, I don't know." I say quietly, and look at my hands.

My anxiety is already starting to eat me from the inside out, and my fear of being the centre of attention is not doing well. I feel a collection of fine tears brimming at the line of my eyes. Crap. I blink them back quickly, not wanting to show anyone I'm upset.

"Maybe if you listened instead of daydreaming, you would know. Get out." Ms Wills points to the door. I blink in confusion.

"Pardon?"

"Out! Now!" She shouts.

I pick up my things, not looking twice when I hear a clutter of pencils falling to the floor. My eyes tighten shut, and I keep on walking, trying desperately to block out the judgemental looks I know people are giving me.

I burst out into the fresh, spring air, immediately feeling the breeze hit my flushed cheeks. I love Sydney at this time of year. The trees are all in bloom, the colourful flowers shooting out of every branch. All the wildlife gathers in the park, creating a show of different sounds for everyone who passes by.

My facade breaks the moment I sit down under the oak tree. My chest starts heaving with sobs, and it's in times like this that I wish I brought my inhaler with me. Each cry is racked by a painful cough that shakes my body, and sends a shudder down my back. I frown as I realise that I'm going to have to go to reception and ask for an inhaler.

Just peachy. Wonderful. Incredible.

I think of any word I can to try and turn around how amazingly shit my day has been.

Maybe I can speak a better day into existence whilst doing so.

I wipe the tears from my cheeks, my cold hands burning against the warmth, and pick my miserable self off the ground. I brush off an ant that has decided to cling to my trousers, and begin walking slowly to the office.