Style - Taylor Swift
20 - Angry Hannah
Word count: 2016
"Dream as if you'll live forever, live as if you'll die today."
- James Dean
***
Callum avoided me all day. Whenever I passed him in the hallway, he would turn around and walk the opposite direction. At lunch, he was a no-show. Apparently, he had homework to complete. But I know he didn't.
By the end of the day, I was pissed. Pissed at myself and at Callum.
Throughout the day, the press had been trying to find a way into the school. It turns out Casey had hired some extra guards to stop them.
Social media is blowing up as well. The amount of questions on there about whether I'm dating Jason or not is insane. I haven't even touched my phone since yesterday in fear of the number of messages I have. Fans somehow manage to get my number and like to either ask me on a date or ask me a question. I normally receive around two hundred on a normal day. At one point, Lulu had to hire someone to personally delete all of them because there was too many.
"Hey, Hannah," I call out to her as we leave our history classroom. Hannah turns on her heels, directing her attention to me. "Do you think you could come round mine? I have something important to discuss with you."
Hannah gives me a questioning look at my seriousness but nods her head nonetheless. Inhaling, I give her a small smile and start walking again with her.
The feeling of eyes on me overwashes me again. All day fellow pupils have been staring with eager and curious eyes, gossiping with their friends. Alan has had to stick with me the whole day because I've had so many people come up to me and ask me if I'm dating Jason. I literally want to rip my hair out at the question, that is repeated every minute by someone else. Every single person that utters those words on their lips makes me want to go up to them and yell.
"Whitney! Whitney!" A man's voice yells desperately from behind me. I take a glance over my shoulder to see some sleazy reporter barging his way through the hallway. "Is it tru-"
Before the middle-aged man who like every other reporter, gives me nightmares, can finish his sentence, Alan is up in front of him with an enraged expression.
"Leave." Alan orders, simply yet so effectively. The reporter gulps, trying to hide his nervousness by glaring at Alan. Alan sighs in irritation and repeats the question, in a deeper voice. "I said leave."
The reporter nods his head furiously and spins on his heel, stumbling his way through the crowd.
We start walking again, this time I dart my eyes around the halls to make sure no other reporter managed to sneak his or her way into the school. I understand that they are trying to do their jobs but when they are on your case all of the time, it's really hard for someone like me to justify their actions.
Most celebrities despise the press.
"You okay kiddo?" Alan asks me, concerned. It's the first words he has uttered to me since yesterdays incident. I mask my shock by giving him a grateful smile and turn to look back at the path in front of me.
When we make it out of the door, I'm swarmed with press shouting questions and snapping pictures furiously. The feeling of overwhelming overcomes me and I have to take deep breaths to calm myself down. Alan along with some other guards push their way through, ignoring their cries.
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