Chapter Two.

I weave my way past the crowds, keeping my eyes trained on the floor. I've practically memorised the route to my locker without having to lift my head up once to check my surroundings. Skills, right?

As quick as a flash, a pair of bright trainers come into view and I stop abruptly to avoid crashing into them.

"Ew, why are you walking like that?" A high pitch voice fills the air causing me to freeze. I glance up nervously and meet eyes with someone I never thought I'd cross paths with. My eyes widen and I begin to stutter incoherent words, already backing away.

No way is this happening to me.

I refuse to believe it.

Its no other than Beatrice Walden.

Beatrice Walden doesn't know the meaning of the word unpopular. Ever since I've known her, she's always been surrounded by her so called friends. She's the mean girl, alpha female, class A bitch of Heywood High. She's also one of the highest members of the Popular's. The social group who walk the corridors thinking they own the entire school. The people who laugh, sneer and joke about their less popular peers.

She reaches up with her hands, running a perfectly manicured nail through her dark locks. Her hair is always curled to perfection, makeup immaculately done alongside it. When she isn't snarling or teasing people, some would dare say Beatrice Walden is pretty.

Her glossy lips curl up as she notices me and she lets out a heavy sigh, almost as if I'm the biggest inconvenience in the world to her right now.

"Can't you watch where you're going? It's not hard, look up!" She says firmly, humour lining her voice. She glares at me from head to toe and I feel myself disappear inside myself. I shrink back against the wall, too stunned to speak. It feels like my tongue is being held hostage, refusing to let me apologise or respond to her.

"Hello? I'm talking to you. What are you. . . mute?" Beatrice mocks me, standing with one knee bent as she glares at me to respond. The girls standing on either side of her narrow their eyes at me, sick smirks on their faces. I can feel the tight hold on my lungs as I struggle to keep myself composed. My palms begin to sweat and I can feel my legs trembling under my weight.

"Does she speak English? Hellooo."

A hand is waved in front of my face and all three of them burst into laughter. It fills the air and bounces off the walls in the corridor and I flinch, my throat tightening until it becomes difficult to breathe. I quickly dodge to the side and force my legs to scurry down the corridor, my head hung low. My cheeks burn with heat and embarrassment and I want the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

Calm down Bella. It's over now.

The bell rings loudly signalling the start of the school day and I watch as the corridors slowly began to empty, crowds of students disappearing. I reach my locker and rest my back on it, closing my eyes to take a second to breathe.

In, out, breathe. In, out, breathe.

Isn't it weird how something as normal as breathing can suddenly become such a difficult task to do?

The thought of being unable to breathe, your throat tightening further and further until it feels like you're gasping for an ounce of oxygen scares the living crap out of me.

These are the times I wish I had someone who's always there for me. To help me when I need it and to have my back against people like Beatrice Walden. Growing up I wished for a twin sibling to keep me company. The thought of having someone to lean on, talk to, laugh and bond with has my eyes glazing over in fresh tears. Whenever Dad or Jedd question my lack of friends I wave it off and act like it doesn't phase me. The harsh reality of the situation is that I'm so lonely.

I don't know how to overcome that.

*****

"Class, please leave your homework on the desk before you leave, thank you." The teacher instructs before turning back to her laptop. Everyone stands from their seats, the chatter in the room rising quickly. English is finally over and I have sports to get through before the school day comes to an end.

Sports is my least favourite subject.

I for one, have the sport skills of a snail.

I'm uninterested in sports, I'm awkward and I flinch every time a ball heads my way. The majority of my lessons are spent aimlessly day dreaming at the end of the football pitch. Staring up into the sky and seeing what shapes I can make out of the clouds is literally one of my favourite things to do. I love how as each minute passes, the clouds would slowly change shape becoming something totally different.

Sometimes I wish I could do the same. . . change myself in a matter of minutes to suddenly become a popular social girl surrounded with the best of friends.

Maybe fall in love with somebody?

I'm slightly embarrassed to admit that I, Bella Winters, have never had a boyfriend in all of my seventeen years of living. Unless the boy who lived next door to me when I was five counted. He'd held my hand for almost 1.5 seconds before he realised the dating life just wasn't for him.

I sigh quietly, noticing the classroom is empty before I grab my backpack and head for the door.

"Miss Winters?" The teacher stops me and I turn to face her, slightly shocked that she knows my name without having to check her register.

"Yes?" I reply quietly, keeping my eyes glued to the floor. "Your homework please."

I nod my head and silently take my homework out of my bag before placing it on her desk.

I completed it the same day it was handed out.

*****

"Girls, guess what? Ethan asked me out last night! Can you believe it?"

"No way!"

"Oh my gosh, finally!"

"Ethan grew some balls. It's about god damn time."

I clutch my gym bag to my chest, weaving my way through the crowd in the girls changing room. Half of the girls are undressed, parading around in their underwear without a care in the world. The conversation in the locker rooms always gives me a headache if I listen too long which isn't a surprise considering all the girls ever talk about is boys.

The latest discussion is Ethan and Melissa.

Ethan has been crushing on Melissa, the girls captain of the football team for months before he'd finally asked her out. Apparently their first date is going to be at Melissa's pool party she's hosting on the weekend.

That doesn't sound like much of a date to me . . .

I'm a hopeless romantic who spends endless hours watching stereotypical love movies on Netflix. Every single time a couple split, I blubber like a baby even though I predict it happening from the start. My ice cream or popcorn bowl always ended up mingling with my tears. . . Gross.

My idea of a first date would be something intimate yet simple. A chance for both of you to get to know each other without the presence of several others.

Somewhere quiet and romantic?

A restaurant maybe.

But then there's always the worry of eating like a starved pig in front of your crush.

I finally reach the toilet cubicles and enter the free one, locking the door behind me. This is where I change every lesson. It's small, cramped and smelly but it's out of sight and I'd choose that any day over everyone seeing my SpongeBob SquarePants underwear. I'm ashamed to admit I also have the matching bra on.

I quickly change into my gym clothes, a bright red shirt with the words HEYWOOD HIGH printed on the back in block white letters. I opted for the size that was two sizes bigger as showing what little shape I have to my body doesn't appeal to me.

Underneath I'm wearing red and white stripe shorts completed with white socks and my trusty old converse. The entire school basically looks like the human version of Where's Waldo in our gym clothes.

"Girls, line up please!" Mrs Hollins yells loudly, attempting to grab the attention of the class. Everyone lazily walks over to her, continuing with their conversations. Mrs Hollins let out an annoyed breath, rolling her eyes. I watch as she raises the whistle to her lips before blowing into it. The shrill of the whistle catches me by surprise and I wince, covering my ears with my hands.

"Girls, I want you in line now!" Mrs Hollins screams, stomping her foot down onto the grass in a childish manner. She craved the students attention and respect by acting laid back however times like this proved she's the complete opposite.

Eventually a line is formed and I join the end of it, keeping my distance from the two girls giggling on the end. Mrs Hollins eyes drift up and down each student before they land on me.

"You!" She points at me, causing my heart rate to speed up. I hold my hand up half heartedly, looking incredibly awkward. She gives me a slight frown before continuing —

"Go get the class footballs, hurry up."

She throws the gym keys at me and they land in a heap on the floor in front of my feet. I simply look down at them and stare.

"You were supposed to catch them," Mrs Hollins sighs, shaking her head. I bite my cheek hard, bending down to retrieve the keys.

"Didn't you know? She's mute," Beatrice's voice fills the silence and several people burst out laughing. My cheeks burn with embarrassment and I resist making eye contact. I clutch the keys tightly, feeling the cold metal dig inside my palm before turning and heading for the equipment room where the footballs are stored.

"Quieten down class!"

My footsteps speed up and I close my eyes, breathing in slowly and breathing out. Finally I reach the equipment room and try the first key inside the lock, no luck. There's around ten different keys and I glance down at them before sighing heavily. It takes me a while to find the right one but when I do, I smile and pull back the door before stepping inside. The room is dark with no light beside from the natural sun peeking through the slither in the door. It doesn't do much to help me see.

"Shoot," I mutter holding out my hands in front of me to stop myself falling. I can barely make out any shapes in here so what hope do I have in finding the footballs?

"Would you like some help?"

A voice startles me from behind and I miss my footing as I stand on something hard which causes me to lurch forward. I yell out as I connect with the floor, landing painfully on my side. I wince and feel around, grabbing a metal pole from underneath me that's poking into my back. Pain flares up my body and I clench my jaw, the frustration beginning to increase.

"Stupid idiot of a teacher!" I curse Mrs Hollins, blinking back the tears in my eyes from the sudden pain.

"Are you okay?" A deep voice cuts in and I immediately freeze realising that I'm not alone.

"Hello?"

The voice calls out again. I can vaguely make out his outline, tall with broad shoulders.

"Hello," I let out a small squeak, my voice timid. I hear him walk towards me, the shadow of his outstretched hand inches away from my face. I stare at it, feeling a blush creep up my neck and cheek.

"Take my hand, I don't bite."

I nod in the dark before realising he probably can't see me nod. Urgh Bella Winters, you idiot. My small hand reaches out uneasily until it meets with his and I feel his fingers close around mine tightly, pulling me up using gentle force. I wince, groaning a little from the pain flaring up my side.

"Are you hurt?" He asks me, his voice low yet raspy. He sounds like he's just woken from a nap and every time he speaks, my nerves increase.

"Y-yes, I mean no I didn't, it doesn't matter." I whisper, my voice shaking. I haven't spoken this many words all day and it feels weird. I notice how he hasn't let go of my hand even though I'm firmly steady on my feet. My palms began to grow clammy so I quickly pry it away from his grip before he can notice.

"You don't sound so sure but okay."

"Thank you," I say quietly, not daring to look up at his face even though I probably couldn't make it out in the dark anyway.

"No problem. Try leaving the door open a little to let the light shine in." Mystery Boy chuckles quietly, his laughter causing goosebumps to skim down my arms.

"That p-probably would have been easier." I respond, laughing along nervously.

"I'm guessing you're from Mrs Hollins class?" He asks me, handing over the dreaded bag of footballs. I take them from him, clutching them against my chest.

"Yes I am, thank you."

A moment of silence passes between us before he clears his throat. I can vaguely make out his shadow moving further away from me and towards the door.

"See you around, Clumsy."

His words hold a smile behind them which causes the corners of my lips to tug upwards. I briefly catch a glimpse of the back of him as the door opens.

Dark hair and broad shoulders.

Once I'm alone, I breathe out deeply, my nerves settling back down to the surface. A simple interaction causes me to sweat with nerves and worry. As I leave the equipment room, I search the area to find out the identity of Mystery Boy but it's too late . . . he's already gone.