Falling for Ocean Blue [BxB] ✔️

Chapter Thirteen

I wake up in a cold sweat, an uncomfortable tightness in my pants. I shoot up from my bed, my head rushing. I suddenly feel nauseous. I run into the bathroom and throw the toilet seat open, throwing up the hot contents of my stomach into the pristine bowl. I groan. Last night is a reel of bad images.

I slap both hands on my face, desperately trying to regain consciousness. Getting up from the cold floor, I brush my teeth at the sink. It's unsettling to watch myself in the mirror. The hollow boy standing in front of me looks like a yellowed photograph, a memory. It's in this moment do I really hate Max Grier.

I relive every scene in excruciating detail. The dark lust in Fray's eyes. I wash my face with cool water, rubbing the tiredness from the dark rings around my eyes. My curly hair is matted and splayed, my skin ashen. I slip out of the clothes from last night and put on a clean pair of black jeans. In the closet hangs a grey hoodie with the school's emblem and the number 12 sewn into both sides.

'Everyone knows who number 12 is.'

I tear the fabric from the hanger and stuff it, unceremoniously, into my backpack. I stretch a red sweater over my head and head out of my messy room, resolving to clean it once I got home. I need to be in school before first period to be fitted for a uniform. I pace down the steps, eager to avoid my siblings so early in the morning. The house is slow before the dawn. The magnificent staircase gleams under the overhead lights, each marble step glows in an orange haze. All the doors are shut closed, oak wood sealed with metal wires. It was a security measure for privacy amongst strangers. We entertained a lot of guests; mainly reporters, family friends, politicians. Sometimes Yvette and her team would occupy a bedroom if the roads were blocked. I move swiftly out of the silent house and walk down the pebble path. My bike is still at school, so I brave the buses for the first time since we moved here.

I wait anxiously at the stop, sitting on the rusted seat and hoping for the sun to shy behind some dark clouds. When the bus dawdles close, I pay the fee and reach the back. I sit close to the window and shut my eyes against the glare.

I leave the bus after it reaches my stop, the doors creaking open. I get to school around 7AM, waltzing through the large entrance into the empty building. My fitting takes only thirty minutes, a meekly tailor in his small office in the furthest building. He smiles and asks for an autograph before sending me on my way. The uniform is an ugly colour up close.

I head passed the blue corridors, the glass windows of the science labs spilling light into the hallways. The furthest door on the first floor is one that is painted in a floral lilac, making it stand out from the rest of the sterile rooms. Through the small window, I see rows upon rows of books, stacked to the ceiling. I enter the room slowly and head for a small nook in the darkest corner. I have homework to complete before first period. I'm still not used to the workload. I was definitely behind in most of my classes, I didn't need for this to be graded to know my homework was beyond subpar. I plug in my earphones, press play and suddenly Nocturne in B minor sweetens the silence. I sigh contently, already lost in the music.

I don't notice when two people slip into the library, with their heads down and eyes skirting around the room. My heart strums to the piece. I don't bother looking up when someone slides into the chair next to mine. My pencil never halts as it digs into my notebook. My music distorts as they take an earpiece, cool air surrounds my right ear. I internalise my seething anger before forcing my eyes up. She just smiles mischievously.

"God, this is boring." Her assessment is unfair. I pause the music.

"About the party..."

I freeze.

"I'll eat lunch with you, Grace." I say. I'm surprised by how easily I made that promise. Grace looks relieved by it, though, and that's enough for me to relax. The girl wears her uniform well, the blouse is tight around her body. Her skirt is cut extremely short in true Grace fashion.

"You look good in your uniform,"

I thank her politely, communicating my disdain for this conversation. I want to keep solving the math equations, my brain burning on fumes as the pages go on. Grace leans in, the scent of her perfume making me sigh happily. Cedarwood. She smiles into the book, but I know she noticed my change in expression.

"This is pretty easy. I skipped a grade and I'm in advanced, I could help." There's sincerity in her words. Grace takes out her own hard cover book, she places it between us. We study together, huddled close to the book. Her explanations on Newton's third law is intricate and for a while, I understand it as she patiently writes out her own scenarios and guides me through them.

The bell rings abruptly and we walk together to first period.

"We can sit in the back with Pete and Minho." She tells me. Not that it matters, her hand is steering me to the back of the classroom. I see Aubrey in the corner of my eye, scowling angrily. Sitting at the farthest table, nearest to the windows, is the scowling redhead. He sits with his legs on the table, his hair messily falling into his eyes.

"Pete, move your ass over!"

Peter gives her a blank look, his eyes falling onto me. His guarded expression fails for a fleeting moment before his legs move under the desk. Grace sits next to him and motions me to follow her. Grace speaks now, rushed and with no structure. She's brash and brutish, that's why I watch every movement she makes, every twitch in her face, the way she talks in inclinations. Slowly, my mouth betrays me. Peter catches my smile, his brows furrowing slightly.

"Minho, you're going to the soccer game?" Grace asks.

I follow her attention to a small boy sitting closest to the window. He rips his eyes off the scenery outside and answers quickly. Grace rolls her eyes.

"Minho is terribly shy," She says then quickly adds, "You two have a lot in common."

I give her a curious look. Grace rolls her eyes again, "I tried calling you at the party, but you completely blanked me and left."

I don't think she sounds sad, but I apologise anyway.

"Did something happen?"

"Your brother and his gang of idiots turned the place upside down looking for you." Peter grumbles.

"I know." It's true. Soren slammed by door at midnight, lecturing me about responsibility being a basic decorum. I received thirty calls from Austin and angry texts from Steven. Wolfe had even left a voicemail, but I was too scared to listen to it.

"Don't worry. I told them you left- "

"Twenty minutes into them destroying Luke's living room."

Grace rolls her eyes again, nudging Peter with an elbow, but there's a sly grin on her face. Peter and Grace bicker incessantly, Minho's attention flitters between the window and his hands. The entire class is loud with chatter, social rings ripple all around us. People gather with their likes, talking with no direction, eyes glimmering with laughter and a sense of sameness. Some of those rings speak in hushed tones, gossiping in low voices to no real avail. Everyone hears them. I hear my name occasionally, but that's to be expected. They settle down at the sight of Dr Gardiner, who strides in just before the late bell. He smiles kindly at his class and begins. The whiteboard lights up and we are subject to his hour-long lecture on the trigonometric functions.

*