CHAPTER 05: be safe. i'm here
vote and comment
I never thought that after what happened on Saturday, I wouldn't want to be in school, but here I was absolutely dreading to even walk inside.
I only have to endure this for a few hours and then I can sit on the field and just not think about anything. Releasing a shaky breath, I headed inside and straight to my locker to get my books out for class.
The halls were bustling, which only made me feel worst about coming in, but I've never skipped a day off school because of my parents. I've been feeling nauseous all day, but I'd really just prefer to be here rather than endure being at home.
How the hell am I going to cope today?
"Brielle?" I turned immediately, catching Jaxon off guard as I closed my locker quickly. His brows furrowed at my demeanour, "you okay? You look a bit pale."
I simply nodded, giving him a small smile before walking off in the opposite direction. My friends were in different classes so there wasn't any way for me to talk to them as of now, though I was grateful I had art today. It helped me relax for an hour or more and was actually quite therapeutic; the school counsellor mentioned it was helpful that I was an art student.
We were planning out our final projects in which we picked out a theme a few days prior. I began on my sketches, a surprisingly peaceful silence drifting through the room. Normally, the place descended into chaos, but that was when we were all actively completing the final piece.
I managed to sketch out a few ideas that I liked, placing them to one side as I worked through a variety of materials that I could use. Noting down the ones I wanted to try, I heard the bell for the end of the lesson. With a sigh, I packed my stuff away in my folder and headed out to my locker.
You'd think with halls the size of a stadium that it wouldn't be so busy all the time, but alas, it was rush hour and making it to my locker seemed like a miracle.
Of course, Owen's group made their way through with ease. People practically moved out of the way out of fear for their lives. When I looked over, he had that same grumpy look on his face that always has. It was like he was allergic to smiling, I thought, noticing the way he leaned back against the lockers on the other side of the hall.
His eyes drifted over everyone around him until they settled on me, causing me to turn back to face my locker. Great, just great. He probably thinks I'm a weirdo now. That's all I needed today.
I still had chemistry with him today as well. Last lesson. Oh, of course, give me something to look forward to.
Today, I skipped lunch, letting my friends know that I felt overwhelmed in there; the cafeteria was daunting sometimes, especially when I felt like I wasn't strong enough to hold everything in. The pressure of my parents was on my shoulders and I couldn't tell anyone—not when it was my shit and not their's.
However, I did do my sketches on the bleachers, finishing some final touches on the last draft of my plan for the first project. I wanted to do something that represented how I felt even when I didn't know what feeling I experienced sometimes.
Sometimes it seemed so easy to pretend it wasn't there like a dark cloud could be looming over my head yet I'd still be capable to put on a smile, but today, it felt particularly difficult.
![The Girl He Never Noticed [NOT EDITED] by Aishah_MB](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/59593119-80-k802148.jpg)
Maybe it was the remainder of my hopes of getting my dad back that made it so easy for me, but now I knew he wasn't going to try so I'd stopped trying as well.
I had managed to feel at peace with the world even just for two minutes until the bell rang for our last lesson of the day. Talking to Owen in chemistry really just depended on his mood: if he was happy, he would never shut up, but when he was miserable, he'd refuse to even acknowledge anyones existence and snapped back at the teacher any chance he got.
He was scarily unhinged that it concerned me.
Nevertheless, he barely spoke to me in today's lesson, though I did probably look like I didn't want anyone to talk to me. I kept my head down and did my work and when I wasn't writing, I was just staring straight ahead and waited. Considering I sped through everything, I'm surprised the lesson dragged on forever.
But nothing could prepare me for leaving that room after the final bell went. I'd walked out, heading to my locker as Owen joined his brother and a friend, who waited for him after class.
Yeah, it seems fine now, doesn't it?
"Brielle," I heard someone call, an all too familiar voice at that. See, I thought I'd get out of class scathe free, but it seems the world continuously shits on any happy moment I have. I couldn't put it off now so I turned around to see Owen heading in my direction. He stopped just short of a feet away from me and I was partly worried he'd say something to rule me up—get a reaction out of me because he loved to do that. Even when we were kids, he always pissed me off so it was strangely comforting to know he hadn't changed that much. "what's up with you today?"
"Nothing," I muttered, averting my gaze away from his and to the now apparently appealing lockers across the hall to me.
But of course, to Owen Bowers, he notices everything and my response just wasn't good enough to him, "bullshit."
"Owen, can you please not? Today's been rough," I quietly spoke, turning my back to him. His sudden grip on my wrist pulled me back to face him and I knew from that cocky smirk on his face that I wouldn't be able to resist against him.
"Oh, but we're already at the end of the day and you haven't made a single remark. You're losing your streak.What's wrong? Aren't you excited to be here?" he was joking, but it didn't make it sting any less. I couldn't blame him, though; he doesn't know anything about my life so I could only ask him to stop.
Just for today.
"Please." it was more of a whisper, but I think the fact I begged made it loud and clear enough to him from the way his expression changed completely. Owen looked around before pulling me round a corner and against the wall.
His brows furrowed at my expression as he glanced down the length of my face. It was probably so obvious my cheeks were flushed and fresh tears had caused my eyes to develop a slight sheen to them, "hey, what's wrong with you?"
I went to say something, struggling to get my words out. He noticed me only shake my head, watching as a tear trailed down my cheek and with a grumbling sigh, he pulled me into his chest, "what's wrong? Why are you crying—who made you cry, Brielle?"
It was quite funny how concerned he became; even as kids, he vowed he'd beat up anyone who upset me. However, when he actually stuck to his word and he'd get called to the principal's office, I expected myself to be called as well.
