❝In which a celebrity dials a random number in hope of finding one last thing to make him smile before he commits suicide at the end of the month.❞
"I'm going to commit suicide in one months time."
"I think you have the wrong number."
"It can't be t...
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Mia Osler had never before encountered Jason Walker, despite residing in the same year group for the past six years. Regardless of the seemingly minimal connection between the two, the pair somehow found themselves standing side by side outside of the janitor's closet.
Both, of course, sat comfortably on their, very separate, rungs of the social ladder. There was Jason, a moderately well-known basketball player who would much prefer to have his hands on a pen than a ball. Mia, on the other hand, had spent far too much of her school life being average. Average height. Average face. Average figure. Average grades. Average amount of bullying from people like the former Cleo Quinn.
So, there we have it.
A sports star and an average girl with far more forgiveness than a heart should be capable of holding.
They were both there to witness the resurrection of the great Egyptian Pharaoh, watching in curiosity and slight concern as she emerged from the janitor's closet. Perhaps the small brunette's confidence would have intimidated them if it had not been for the phone conversation that they had just overheard.
After seeing the rusty side of her crown, both Mia and Jason had a new sense of respect for Cleo. As she walked past them, both students nodded at her with small smiles as a form of their newly polished regard for the girl who was a little more broken than they had originally anticipated.
Cleo smiled back at them, winking once as she strode into the corridor.
Jason watched the Queen enter the battlefield with a twinkle in his eye, lips tugging up once more as he glanced down at the girl standing beside him. "I don't know about you but I have a feeling that those twats are about to get a taste of what it's like to be messed with."
Mia laughed, taking his hand and dragging him into the corridor where Cleo was already smirking at a large herd of cake-faces. "Let's get front row seats. I have a feeling this is going to be the highlight of my year."
