Watched Over

Chapter 8: Daunting Lessons

An alerting sound fills my ears and I struggle to pick myself up from my bed to stop it. I moan, irritated at the thought of physically getting up. Mum confirmed my enrolment at Maple leaf high school last night. I wish my unrealistic dream would come true, which consists of staying at home all day, stuffing my face with Ben and Jerry's ice cream and watching Netflix.

Maple leaf high school is only two minutes away from my place, which is extremely convenient.

I eventually build up the strength to force myself out of bed. I rub my dainty blue eyes, in an attempt to clear them up from their blurry state and I stretch my arms out, yawning loudly. After my prolonged shower, I blow dry my hair carefully, trying to make it presentable. I throw on a plain black T-shirt, my khaki romper jacket and my tight dark denim jeans. I apply some makeup to my drained appearance and twirl in front of the mirror, adjusting my sunglasses. Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I rush outside, not bothered to rummage frantically through the kitchen pantries.

As I walk along the path way, I see many cars accelerate in the direction of my new school. Butterflies begin to develop in my tummy, as I contemplate on whether to attend school or not. The car park holds an abundance of unappealing motorcycles, stained bikes and valuable cars with numerous amounts of students leaning against them. I gaze at there enthusiastic banter, trying to comprehend there vocal exchange by eavesdropping. As I stride pass them my eyes are fixated towards the solid concrete surface and I hear whispers arriving from their direction.

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Approaching my new typical locker, I shove my books in. As I slam the delicate door, a body knocks it's way through my vision, Caleb leans against the locker next to mine, crossing his arms over his broad chest. His exotic eyes catch mine and he smirks at my radiant blushing cheeks. I thought it wasn't that noticeable.

Now I know this fatal moment will be all he thinks about, all day, everyday. "I insist on escorting you to your first period," he says, grabbing my hand. I try to pull away, but his grip is to tight. I glimpse through the hallways full of other teenagers, mentally picturing them judge and gossip about us.

"Caleb, people are going to see us," I glare at him, attempting to pull my hand away from his grasp once again.

"I don't mind," he glances at me, cheekily grinning. Of course he doesn't mind!

"Caleb," I start sternly, "This isn't appropriate, remember were just friends." I hint to him, raising my eyebrows, waiting for him to let go of my now sweaty hand. The fact that my hand is sweaty makes me even more embarrassed and uncomfortable about this situation.

"I realise 'Were just friends'," he responds, impersonating me, but his hand doesn't move one bit. It's like his hand has latched onto mine due to the super glue across my palm and he refuses to attempt to tear them apart, afraid of hurting either one of us.

"Ughh," I moan, rolling my eyes as the corner of his mouth twitches up. I cannot fathom how amused he is by my tenseness, this isn't a joke and I highly doubt he realises that.

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"Were here, that's enough embarrassment for one day," I say, catching him off guard, while snatching my hand from his.

"your welcome," he says, bitterly.

"You better run off now, I don't want you getting in to trouble for being late buddy," I nudge him in the shoulder, as I giggle and roll my eyes. He swiftly smiles, turning and walking towards the door directly next to us. What the hell is he doing? Why did he just walk into my classroom?