Falling for Ocean Blue [BxB] ✔️

Chapter Five

9 o'clock.

The doors are already open as I walk inside. The large hallways are varnished and cream white, rows of lockers on either side painted a pale blue. I keep onwards, already knowing the way to the principal's office.

The principal of Woodstone high is a young hopeful. The radical free spirit that tries desperately to relate to his students. He's not quite as elitist as his school, spending funds for scholarship programmes as well as the lavish lacrosse fields. I turn right at what I assume to be the science faculty, the smell of ammonia permeating the fabric in the carpet. The labs are large rooms with rows and rows of teenagers dressed in white coats and goggles. A long window lets peering eyes spill into the corridors.

I wince when a hushed whisper rises. Students collect around the windows, they inspect my form, eyes eating up every inch of the new stranger. Suddenly, the sound of clinking bites at my attention so that I'm staring at lenses glaring behind the window. They shout over each other. They marvel at the sight of me, like a crowd to a circus.

Behind a glass cube at the end of the main corridor is a large desk where a small woman sits, one leg over the other. She looks up over her thick frames when I walk in, my back opening the glass door so that my eyes never strayed from the hall behind me. She smiles politely.

"Hello, dear. Do you have an appointment?"

I nod slowly, "Maxence Grier-Gellar."

The woman brightens, "Yes, you're the new student."

I nod again.

The woman goes back to typing on her computer, pushing her frame further up her nose. She motions for me to take a seat. I choose the furthest from the window, shadowed under a canopy of succulents.

A deep green fish tank sits atop a poorly constructed cabinet. The murky waters do little to reflect the fluorescent lights overhead. Blue leather seats are arranged around the glass walls, a low coffee table with pamphlets in the middle of the room. I take a seat nearest the door, my legs sprawled out as my back rigidly lays back. I reach into the pocket of my bag and take out my wire-rimmed glasses. Once I slip them onto my nose, the room sharpens, and I can finally observe my surroundings. I pull on my earphones, so they slide out of my pocket, and put one in my ear. I click the play button.

Four seasons come on.

The receptionist glances up from her papers, a glint of knowing in her eyes as she pretends to be busy.

I listen to my music intently, the rush of soothing piano cooling the heat in my face.

Behind the oval desk, there are three doors with gold plates screwed into the centre. Two vice Principals border Mr Greene office, the words 'Head Principal' shines brightly on the oak wood. I get comfortable as the minutes tick by, leaning back against the cool glass. The entire room is cast in a cloud's shade. I close my eyes. The sound of the music is all I see, the notes rehearsed in my mind. My mind is at ease. The sinking feeling in my stomach fades.

I don't even notice when the glass door is shoved open. Only the sudden breeze breaks my concentration and I forcibly open my eyes. The shade is long gone. Instead, replaced by a shadow of a figure looming in front of me.

The scent of leather and salt invade my senses before my eyes can focus. I have to crane my neck to drink in the sight of the tall stranger. A familiar pair of ocean-blue eyes thunder fiercely making his features look sharp. His hair looks almost blonde under the bright sun and cascading in tousled waves. Under the strong sun, light freckles dust the skin on the bridge of his tan nose.

He gives me a dismissive glance, a passing thought as he saunters to the middle of the room.

"In trouble again, Mr Anderson?" The heavy woman yawns.