♛

I can't do it.

Call me a coward but I couldn't physically move any of my limbs, it was as if they have a mind of their own.

For fifteen long minutes, I had been sitting on a toilet bowl with the lid down inside this cramped cubicle to the point where I was starting to feel a little claustrophobic.

To think I'd have gotten used to it all by now after having changed schools multiple times a year.

Yet, the overwhelming feeling of fear and loneliness from being in a foreign environment never failed to knock me off my axises.

Life was really unfair, god it was so so unfair.

This was all too much for a seventeen year old teenager, especially one who had no friends, who had an image to uphold, whose parents were always busy and-

As abruptly as these thoughts came flooding in, it suddenly stopped. I was being ridiculous and immature.

Get a grip on yourself Lia.

I shut my eyes and for a moment, I found peace. I saw my parents kissing me goodnight on the forehead after every single day of hard work, how they always made sure we had breakfast together every morning since it was the only meal we shared as a family.

Thinking about those times made me feel loved and not entirely alone. It also made me realised how selfish I was, this was not me. I was not born to be a quitter, I was raised better than that.

After much reassurance, I felt ready to head back outside when two girls entered the bathroom.

Guess I'll have to wait for a while then.

I sat back down and tucked my feet up such that they were not visible from underneath the stall door.

"Did you see how Jordan Chandler broke Sophia Mckenzie's poor little heart just now and threw the shattered pieces around like confetti?" A high pitched voice squeaked.

"Wouldn't have missed it, the girl's a crying mess." Another voice piped, followed by the sound of tap water gushing out.

"He's such a heartbreaker." The first girl said with an exasperated sigh.

"It comes with being hot as the cheese pizza that came right out of the oven."

"It isn't even lunch yet."

"I know, but a girl needs to eat. Gosh, I bet Jordan Chandler would make one hell of a smothering hot cheese pizza. I could already feel the burn as the melted-"

The door slammed shut with a resonating bang, effectively cutting short the weird and unforgettable bathroom conversation I had just heard.

♕

"It's nice of you to finally join us 27 minutes into my class, Miss Harrington." My literature teacher sneered whilst tapping against the antique watch strapped around his wrist.

"I am so sorry sir, I was lost and-"

"No excuses young lady! I will not tolerate any tardiness in my class do you understand?" The fifty year old huffed in a grumpy tone, staring me down.

I held on tightly to the hem of my skirt as students snickered, lowering my head I tried my best to sound apologetic. "Yes sir, this will not happen again."

He gave an annoyed grunt before waving me off, relieved to be away from the predatory stares of my classmates, I hurried down the aisle in search of seats.

Luck seemed to not be on my side as the only available seats were a few empty ones in the middle of the classroom. Ignoring the unrelenting eyes, I sat down on a random chair and forced myself to focus on the lesson.

Time eventually flew by and before I knew it, lunch period came. Not wanting to attract any unnecessary attention to myself, I opted out of going to the cafeteria and headed for a bench by the football field.

The afternoon sunlight was shielded partially by the big oak tree my table was under, providing me with a shaded place to enjoy my meal.

I took out my lunch box from my bag and deeply inhaled the aroma of my mum's specialty pesto pasta.

The scent of freshly grinded basil and various herbs made my stomach churn with hunger, picking up a metal fork, I twirled the thick strands of pasta before bringing it to my mouth.

I slowly chewed my food, trying to savour the salty taste of the sauce and noodles when something hit the back of my head.

The impact of the hit caused me to spit out some of the pasta as I began to cough violently. Pressing my palms against my chest, I tried to suppress the increasingly aggressive sounds whizzing out of my mouth.

"Shit, are you alright?"

The only responses I could offer were more coughs in addition to a few tears that have leaked out from the corners of my eyes.

"Dude I think you killed her." Another voiced said.

"Fuck she's crying, Jordan! You just made another girl cry!" Someone else hollered.

Even in the midst of my rapid coughing and with tears blurring my vision, I vaguely recalled the familiar name.

"She looks fine to me." A deeper voice sounded.

I was surprised at this person's supposed definition of 'fine', seeing as how a blind man could even tell I was far from it. A snarky remark at the tip of my tongue however, was soon pushed down by a choke and another round of violent coughs.

"Uh dude, that looks far from fine to me man."

A few others hummed in agreement, I could feel a number of people surrounding my table as someone squatted down beside me.

Putting a hesitant hand on my shoulder, the person asked in a concerned manner. "Hey are you okay?"

I nodded my head weakly and reached for my water bottle, gulping down the water like a thirsty caveman. The cool liquid soothed my hoarsed throat, making me feel slightly better than a few moments ago.

When I was sure I would not be attacked by another round of coughing fits, I turned to my side to find a set of greenish blue eyes staring back at me.

"I am okay now." I attempted a feeble smile at the guy.

The stranger had midnight black hair and was in athletic attire, a quick glance around me confirmed that these guys must have been in the middle of some sport game.

The guys were all tall with well defined muscles and were panting heavily.

"Told you guys she was fine." A bored voice said.

Whipping my head to the direction where the uncaring sentence came from, my eyes locked gazes with a pair of chocolate brown orbs.

This guy towered over the others with a much leaner built and had a similar hair colour matching his eyes. Despite the looks of worry etched onto most of the guys' faces including black haired stranger who was still kneeling down next to me, this guy had a nonchalant look that suggested I was being over dramatic.

"Excuse me but are you the one who hit me?" I questioned, my voice sounding strained.

His bored expression remain unwavered, "That's me."

"And who do you think you are? Hitting innocent girls who are trying to enjoy their lunch in peace with your nonexistent football skills?" I retorted, anger beginning to simmer at the pit of my stomach at the thought of how rude this guy actually was.

A chorus of 'oohs' followed by obnoxious laughter came from the other guys as they glanced from me to the rude stranger.

Black haired guy looked like he wanted to say something before Mister Rude beat him to it.

"Jordan Chandler at your service, Miss Harrington."