It Hurts | ✓

Chapter 5

The next schoolday was boring. Riley was with me again, at least, but it was a crap day. That was, until fourth period, when, again, I was late to my lesson (I had absentmindedly walked with Riley to her classroom and it wasn't until I reached the door that I remembered it wasn't my class).

I was walking through a much less crowded hallway, with only a few stragglers left, still on their way to class. I was walking down a completely empty corridor when three people turned the corner and walked in the other direction, towards me.

It was George, and his idiot gang of friends; Callum, Tom, Jacob, Imogen and Mirella. George was talking rapidly to the group.

Imogen glanced at me, and realising it was me, made a face. It went from disgust, to shock. Then she spoke, much louder than she probably initially intended, "Ssh, George, it's her!"

Smooth, Imogen.

I glared daggers at her.
"'Scuse me?"

"I wasn't speaking to you," she sneered.

"No, but you were clearly speaking about me. Yes, I am walking. Why does that mean you need to stop your conversation suddenly, acting all suspicious?" I tried not to laugh.

George and Tom seemed the only ones out of the group to catch on to my purposeful stupidity, and seemed to find it funny, too.

Did I mention Tom could be decent sometimes? He sat on my table in geography.

"Uh, we weren't," interjected Mirella. These two were so thick it was comical.

Both George and I seemed to be cracking up while they fried a few brain cells, trying to use them.

Wow, Amber, you gotta be less sarcastic. Even your thoughts are insults.

"What were you talking about then, anyway?"

George stopped laughing.

"None of your business," he sneered.

"You sure? Because I seem to think it's my business," I retorted.

"Someone's got a high sense of their own importance," Callum sneered at me.

"Wow, take you the whole week to get that one?" I replied immediately. I was grateful for my fast sarcasm and insults, even if they weren't the best.

Callum opened his mouth to retort something idiotic probably, but I interjected, "Whatever, I'm already late," and started to stride off.

I heard the group begin to depart for class, and I felt a few taps on my shoulder. Colour jerking in and out of view told me it was George.

As the colour bloomed before my eyes, and I couldn't help but smile. I think he realised I was seeing it, and instead of taking his hand away, he kept it on my shoulder. My sake? Who knew. But I appreciated the gesture. The colour was magnificent.

"I need to speak to you," he muttered. "After school, door outside next to the gym." Then he turned and walked away, like nothing had happened. I stood stunned for a moment, and the colour faded back to black and white again.