The Heartthrob Won't Leave

Chapter One (New Chapters)

Then, there's the moment in every story when the new girl steps through the threshold, and everything slows down, the people turn to stare and the place brightens with the unrevealed possibility of a new mind that accompanies the rest of the story. But, nothing happened for Blake. No one gave her a single side glance, walking silently down the dingy halls. The walls were white, the floors were white, as was the roof, only disrupted by the dark navy blue of the lockers lining each side of the halls. Blake wasn't sure what would have made her more nervous, the eyes of everyone on her at that moment, or the reality that settled in wherein not a single eye fell on her small, mediocre frame. She was already a nobody, where no one would remember her name and not a single one would mourn without her. Her fists tightened so badly, that she could feel the throbbing stabs of her nails nearly breaking the skin of her palms. "Blake!" she looked up suddenly at the sound, spying Mikayla's happy smile, hurrying down the hall towards her. But, as she got closer, seeing Blake's face, her eyes fell. "Blake? Are you ok?" Blake's eyes widened slightly, looking away suddenly.

"Yes, of course, I'm fine" she responded with a voice of reassurance, hoping a small toothless smile would appease her friend to not ask any more questions.

"When did you get here?" Mikayla asked "This place is great! Isn't it?!" Blake watched her happy friend, buzzing with excitement. Mikayla was always an optimist, always looking for the next happy possibility. The last thing that Blake wanted to do was ruin her friends' happy mood with her personal inner blunder.

"It's great, I just got here" she responded, giving a kind smile. "When did you arrive?"

"You know me, Blake, I was here at seven! Too excited to sleep! I found our schedules too!" she held out the piece of paper for Blake to take. Blake held it between her fingers, staring at the black printed ink across the page. "You have first period with me and Stella, history class! So much to learn!" she grabbed onto Blake's shoulder, spinning her around to face the other direction in the hall. "It's room ninety-eight, down that way" she pointed, holding tight onto Blake's shoulder with her hand. Blake gave a small, slightly nervous smile to her friend. "Go and drop off your stuff, I'll meet you when class starts, I have to the office-" her friend looked down at her one hast time "Are you sure you're Ok?" Blake's eyes softened at the concern of her friend. There was so much she wish she could say. Yell, scream, do anything to feel alive. But, the world would never allow such a display against her niche.

"Of course, go ahead" she responded, slipping from her friend's grasp "I'll see you in class" Blake watched her friend walk away, radiating an aura of happiness through the dinge of the other students. Mikayla was truly a ray of sunshine.

"Fuck kid, you going to stand there forever?!" startled by the noise she turned, moving towards the nearest wall, wide eyes at the sight of the small group of boys snickering, walking past her as she held her hand above her racing heart. "Fucking juniors" one of them muttered, his friends letting out their own small responses before they blended into the sea of students scattering the halls. Blake let out a sigh, got back up, and straightened herself. Never show weakness, or they'll shred you to bits.

She moved down the halls, staring at the numbers on the doors as she went along, dodging other people as she walked. It felt as if everyone was going in the opposite direction as her. But, of course, feeling like that was nothing new. When she pushed the classroom door open, a gust of cold air hit her body, making her shiver. She walked between the empty cold desks, staring at the names written on a piece on the corner of each one. Once she found hers, she relaxed slightly, realizing Mikayla's desk was right beside her own to the right and the classroom window to her left, she wouldn't be forced next to a stranger, which she was grateful for. She pulled her bag off her shoulders, placing it on the wood of the desktop.