My morning begins like every other morning: swiftly, with routine taking over completely. I don't know why I love routines, but they give me a sense of comfort... a sense of normalcy. I guess I just need that in my life.
Other than my morning routine, my days are very different. My school has a different schedule of classes each day (don't ask me how it works; I barely skid along there anyway), and every week, we get a new teacher for our subjects. It's not like the teachers all suck or anything, though; they literally just give us new teachers just to mess with our heads.
And, besides all that, I have a crush... and my crush is dating someone already. I know, I know, that sounds so stereotypical, but it's true.
It's not like I'd ever have a chance with Nick anyway. He's super tall (towering at just around six foot one inch - a lot more than my meager five foot two inches), has fluffy almost-ginger hair (mine is frizzy and brown and goes down to my hips), wears sunglasses and is able to look cool, not douche-y (I end up looking like a glorified female pedophile), and above all of that, has the silkiest, deepest, kindest voice (mine is just rough and scratchy)...
...I know. I'll shut up.
On the ride to school, I sit up against the side of my bus - number 12 - and close my eyes, listening to the rain pound against the window. Rain comforts me, too (you could say this is my perfect morning: rain and a routine to follow), but I can only stand it for so long. This might sound crazy, but after a while, it sounds like the rain is screaming at me, telling me to stop - doing what, I don't know, but I do hear voices when it rains. Don't judge me, please.
Sometimes the voices are happy - but more often times, they're angry, almost seething with rage. I can even hear the anger in their breathing.
I remember once, a voice said, Go die! Right in my ear. It was the scariest thing I've ever heard, and it made my entire body shake for a whole five minutes afterwards. Now, though, if a voice said that to me, I wouldn't even flinch; it's so common at this point. It's not like I pay much attention to them anyway.
The bus pulls to a stop - I lift my head to look out of the window. Are we there already? I must've fallen asleep listening to the rain...
I guess I did fall asleep, because my bus is parked in front of my school. I look at the driver, and our eyes meet in his rear-view mirror. He's waiting for me to leave.
Carefully, I gather my things, swinging my backpack up onto my shoulder expertly. "Thanks," I mutter to the driver as I step off of the bus.
I jog to the school doors, since I don't like getting wet, and I stop to hold the door for someone behind me.
"Thank you," she says, waiting to hold the door for someone else.
I smile. "No problem," I tell her. I love holding doors for people.
As I'm walking to my locker, I get a lot of stares. I look down at myself; what's wrong with me? Do I have a stain on my shirt or my pants? Is something ripped?
Soon, the stares turn to laughs. I feel my face turn red, and I duck into the lady's room to escape the humiliation. The worst part is I don't even know what...
...oh.
I catch sight of myself in the mirror, and I instantly know what's wrong. My makeup is running down my face, probably from the rain. But I was only in the rain for a few seconds...! Besides, this is the new makeup I bought just so I could look nice for Nick... Mom wouldn't let me bring it to school...
Will I have to go a day without makeup?
I sigh, because I know I'll have to, however scary it seems. Maybe they won't laugh at me.
Frowning, I pull a paper towel from its holder and wet it. I wipe the makeup mostly away, glad that it comes off so easily. Some of it stays around my eyes, but at least that means I'm not completely without the stuff.
Satisfied enough, I hang my head and leave the restroom. The laughs break out as soon as I'm out in the open again, but I do my best to ignore them and just keep walking.
It fails very, very quickly. It's not five seconds before I blindly ram into another student.
"Sorry," I whisper, trying to step around them. However, they move in front of me again, and I hit them twice. "S-Sorry..."
By the third time, I can be absolutely sure my face is beet-red. I scramble to run from the student, to dash back into the bathroom and just hide there, but I'm stopped by hands on my shoulders.
Forcefully, the student pushes my head back so I'm looking at them. I swallow back the bile that threatens to creep up my throat when I see who it is: it's Arthur, one of the meanest bullies in the sophomore class.
"Hello, fresh-meat," he growls, smiling one of the sickest grins I've ever seen.
YOU ARE READING
Broken
Romance"You don't want me," I say, backing up until my whole body is pressed up against the wall. "I'm broken. My heart is in a thousand pieces, and you'd have to tape them all back together." He smiles at me, making my legs go weak. "Yes I do. And even if...
