Chapter 10- Daisy
It's been exactly two weeks and three days since I found that text on Harry's phone. I've hated him ever since and I always will do, no matter what he'll try to do to fix it all up. He probably wont even try to, it's already been over a fortnight since I started actually hating him- a fortnight of no sign of him or one of his apologies.
University has been so stressful recently. I thought all my end of term exams had finished for the Winter but one of my singing teachers said he wanted my class to re-do them for some reason. It's like an extra exam, it's not on the school's curriculum, it's more like a challenge for extra credit.
The "task" of the exam is to find a celebrity that would want to sing with one of us. The higher the profile of the celebrity, the more marks you shall get. I've tried and tried so many numbers in The Yellow Pages handbook, that I found under an old table, but I haven't found anything or anyone.
Before you think it, like everyone else, no I will not fall back on Harry Styles. He's out of my fucking life for good.
I tried Gabrielle Aplin's management, I've tried Ed Sheeran, I've tried Ellie Goulding, I've tried Katie Sky, I've tried Cheryl Cole, I've even tried The Killers. Some of them replied with a simple but effective "no" but most of them haven't even gotten back to me yet.
What scares me is that half of my class have already found their celebrity singing match and all of those who have, are now practising their performances. The exam is three weeks away and I really need to find someone in time otherwise I'll end up with no marks and I'll fail the exam. This task exam is really not fair on us.
Alice has even apparently booked Emeli Sande for her exam.That's so not fair, her Dad is in the Big Top 40 Chart industry. Oh, fuck Alice.
Urgh, anyway. It's Wednesday- my worst day at uni. I had the most terrible morning ever this morning, I woke up after having another bad dream, at around 3am and then after that I spilt boiling hot coffee over a new outfit. That outfit was expensive as well.
Wednesday has always been my worst day at university, I never know why exactly, it just is. I always seem to end up being clumsy or to say something really rude at someone I love. It's like bad luck, even though I'm completely non superstitious. I don't believe in that crap.
"Good morning, Good morning class. Please take a seat on the floor." Mr. Cromwell said as me and my singing class came in to our 9:00 am course.
We all put our coats and bags by the large area of the light room and then continued in front of the piano. We always sit down in front of Mr.Cromwell, most of us cross-legged, like school children.
"So as you all know your new exam is coming up in under a month now. Has anyone found their celebrities, yet?"
My head turned round to the whole class with their heads nodding, and hands high up above their eyes. My throat churning a gulp as I felt stressed out even more about this situation. I found it impossible to find a celebrity that's free. This is fucking ridiculous.
"Johnathon, who's your celebrity?" Sir asked the rather cute boy, who I'm good friends with, sitting at the back of the other people.
"Jake Bugg." He said, as my eyes grew wider than an elephant's width.
"No way!" I shouted.
"It's true, my Uncle's good mates with him." He said, grinning at me.
"You didn't say anything. John, you know how much of a fan I am!" I drew out, my eyes still bulged with fury.
"Okay, okay. I know most of you are going to be fans of others' celebrities but please can we not act like that." Mr.Cromwell consoled, his eyes firmly locked with mine. "Daisy, who's your celebrity?"
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