plain jane x art boy
❝stay with me?❞
❝well, in here-❞ he pointed to my chest.
❝don't scare me like that!❞ i giggled, pushing his hand away playfully.
he laughed too, but it was nervous and uneasy laughter.
what is he hiding?
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<<I seem to have loved you in NUMBERLESS forms, NUMBERLESS times, in life after life, in AGE after AGE forever.>>
RULE THE WORLD - TAKE THAT (2010)
EVERY DAY OF my life was seemingly the same. I wonder what one might expect from a plain-Jane. It was just the way I lived, and for some reason, I absolutely loved it.
Don't get me wrong- I wasn't this plain. But after some years of therapy, due to my mother's mysterious death slash disappearance, it helped me discover my aesthetic and I resorted to it. Its and organized and healthy lifestyle, only with a few tweaks of bullying.
It wasn't their faults I wasn't skinny enough, dumb enough, poor enough or anything they looked for in someone to bully. They had nothing to bully me for unless it were something to do with themselves.
A common example would be the consistent use of:
"Hey, ironing board!" When I was one of the most 'gifted' in our set, according to the perverted boys in my class.
or
"Hey needle brain!" When I always took the first position. To me, being called a nerd would be a lot better.
But unfortunately, diverse schools in England never seemed civilized.
St. Andrews sat on single land, based in Shropshire. It was a rural place- I truly enjoyed its silence- compared to my birth place in Mihonoeski.
Though only worn on reasonable occasions, our uniform consisted of a black, long-sleeved shirt pressed to perfection, a wine coloured tie and a flannel, pleated skirt to top it all off. Because of its strict rules at times, thigh-high socks had to be worn too, either black or white. Black shoes only.
Personally, with my uniform only, I chose Doc Martens. But only on those days where we didn't, I'd wear something plain and simple- kudos to my lifestyle.
Today, now that I just calculated, would be different. Usually, I wouldn't enjoy something disturbing my routine, but this 'disturbance' intrigued me.
On a normal day, the coffee shop I was currently seated in for breakfast (ever so early this morning) was always empty by this time. However, there seemed to be an intruder. A weird intruder, at that.
Though I couldn't see his face, I could see the clothes he was wearing. For him not to be wearing out uniform, that meant he'd been attending the school for a while. That was strange- I doubt anyone had seen him before. Else, the bullies would be all over him.
He had put on a plain, black t-shirt over a long sleeved, white and black, stripy top. He was obviously some goth or something. He was in all black, actually, with ripped skinny jeans and chunky lace up boots.
His pale skin made him look like a corpse, but his hair made some sort of contrast to it. He had a mixture of wine and chestnut coloured hair, about shoulder length, as I managed to notice how he placed it into a neck bun.
All of a sudden, as if he noticed something was off, he got up and started packing his things. I decided, something I'd never done in my life, to follow him. Nothing seemed more interesting to me at this specific moment in time.
As he tucked in his chair rapidly, he glanced up at me for a second, and what I saw nearly ripped my heart apart.
He was East Asian, with dark, green eyes and thick black eyebrows. His jaw, unlike others that I have seen from his supposed side of Asia, was very sharp. However, he had a nice, rounded and plumped chin. A snake tattoo coiled itself around his upper neck. He paused for a bit, his Adam's apple bobbing about in his throat. Then, before anyone could say a thing, he turned and left, taking his bag and sketch pad with him.
I closed my laptop, packed it away neatly and cleaned my area. Unfortunately, I had been born with a mild case of OCD's, forcing me into doing things I sometimes wished I didn't have to do.
I rushed outside, and spotted him making a turn into an alley way. I was just about to follow, when I bumped into something. And that something had a very distinct smell. Cheap perfume and chewing gum.
"Where are you off to?" Jenny snarled. She was only one of the girls who bullied me, and the first.
She was the typical girl of our age, unnaturally skinny, long, blonde hair she obviously bleached and big, blue eyes.
Then there was Kara, a very beautiful woman of colour. She used to be my best friend, at some point, but was, I guess, whitewashed. Till this day, I didn't understand why she'd pick on her own kind, but I guess bad company corrupts good manners.
Lastly, there was Junebug. Junebug was the shortest, quite plump too, with rounded hips and shoulders. She usually had her hair shaven, and dyed some crazy colour. Almost every day.
They were all wearing mini mini skirts, and had their make-up caked the same way. Except for Junebug, of course, who had more black on her face than ever.
She reached over and took out my laptop, crouching on the pavement to open it.
"Let's see if she's got anything juicy here-" Jenny began to search my laptop, possibly knowing the password because of Kara, as I dusted myself off, saying absolutely nothing.
"Maybe she's got a little something from her Mum, if she's still alive that is!" She laughed hysterically, the others joining in.
That was a line she shouldn't have crossed. Especially as an ex-best friend.
Without warning, I slapped her across the face, everything quieting down abruptly.
I picked up my stuff, snatching my laptop from the cheap hands of Jennifer Carkley and ran for my life. I made many twists and turns before using a short cut to get to the cream coloured gates of my secondary school.
I rushed into my class, just in time, before the teacher stepped in. I was about to curse myself for loosing track of Goth Boy, when, from the corner of my eye, a figure with red hair entered the class.
"Clarkson, you are late."
"Sorry," He replied, his deep voice shaking the classroom. He sat right in front of me. "Won't happen again."
