"The saddest thing about betrayal is that it never comes from enemies, it comes from those you trust the most."
XXXTENTACION.
Gasps and sniggers occur, every pair of eyes glued to me as I slowly saunter down the corridor. Parting the crowd, I take a deep breath as some frown, shaking their heads at me in mock disappointment. Others smirk, failing to contain their amusement and content. They observe the plus size girl, hiding behind her raven-black hair, withholding the tears threatening to spill.
"Oh come on, Val!" My inner voice exclaims, "it's the Headmistress' office, not a death sentence!"
"I know," I think, "but every one's reaction is making me feel uncomfortable. I hate it," I whine.
"Hey, do you see that?" One girl says, nudging her friend, "Little Miss Fatty's getting sent to Miss Havisham's office!"
All erupt into a fit of laughter, howling in delight as my face reddens in embarrassment, my lip quivering and hands shaking at the public humiliation. On top of that, I almost trip over my own feet, causing more laughter to break out and more shame to wash over me.
I haven't heard that title in so long, so to hear it now makes me want to cry.
"Suck it up," my inner voice demands. "You are NOT a damsel in distress! You are your own person! Your own inspiration! Your strength comes from you! So keep walking, head up high and ignore everything's that's being said!"
Agreeing with the reasonable part of my mind, I oblige, holding my head up high and masking up some kind of unrealistic confidence. Gathering up my courage, I exhale and look straight ahead, blinking back the tears and swallowing the bile rising in my throat.
"Well would you look at that!" One guy cackles, "Little Miss Fatty's acting all brave now!"
"That's enough!" Red barks. "Get to class!"
Whilst others scatter away, some remain, still wanting to enjoy the show. Inevitably, Wyatt sees this as his chance to step in.
"You heard the man!" Wyatt shouts, vein on the side of his neck bulging, brows furrowed. "Get. To. Class!"
This time, everyone darts away, fear in the eyes of all as they rapidly dash to registration.
"And you," Wyatt says, pointing to the girl who made the first cruel remark, "if you have nothing good worth contributing, then you have nothing to say! So shut the f*ck up!"
Petrified, the girl rushes out of the commotion, bursting in tears as she goes. Wyatt rolls his eyes and Red pats him on the back, uttering his appreciation.
I have to admit.
They're pretty attractive when they're together.
Putting his hand on my shoulder, Red suggests that I hurry along to Miss Havisham's.
"I'll try and find you later, okay?"
"But..." I begin, trailing off.
"Val, go! We've got this," Wyatt nods reassuringly.
Sighing, I shake my head and comply, not wanting to anger the Headmistress anymore.
...
The room is bleak, the cushions, chairs and curtains, all a soft, dove-grey. Desk neatly organised, stacks of paper left aside, along with thick files of data. Pencils are placed into a black pot, sharpened until the tip gleams in the light and pens are hidden away into the dark-brown drawer, the loud band startling me as it closes.
At the back of the room, are certificates of her greatest achievements, the Headmistress' diploma, and even pictures of her with the school's founders. Back then, at least she bothered to smile, her eyes conveying a beautiful happiness which is scarcely seen now. Her posture is the only thing that remained the same, the exact elegance and grace in which she carries herself evident to even the most oblivious observers.
Havisham sat in front of me. She herself was a pale women, wrinkled hands clasped in front of her, perfectly arched eyebrows raised in a questionable manner and her flint-grey hair, tied into a tight bun. Her glasses are being cleaned as she stares at me with a stoic expression, an occasionally hum here and there but no words exchanged. Her cheek bones are raised high and her lips, the only splash of colour.
"I'd like to invite you to sit down, Miss Blue-Rose," she says, gesturing to the seat opposite her.
Holding my breath, I sit, making eye contact with her before looking away in hopes that it wasn't an audacious move.
However, she fails to pick up on it because she goes straight to the point.
"I know it was you who pulled the fire alarm."
Staring at her in complete shock, I proceed to stutter and stammer, attempting to explain the predicament I was in on that particular day. Yet, Miss Havisham's does something unexpected.
She laughs.
She laugh wholeheartedly, even having to wipe the tears from her eyes with a handkerchief.
"W-what are you laughing at?" I ask, perplexed.
Regaining her composure, the Headmistress releases her last giggles before justify her... moment of inconvenience.
"I'm just surprised, that's all," she giggles. "I know what you were trying to do. We have enough camera footage to put two and two together."
Leaning in, she then whispers:
"You triggered the fire alarm to help Reddman, didn't you?"
I nod, taken aback.
"You triggered the fire alarm to stop Kevin beating him and since you couldn't confront him, I'm guessing you saw that as your only alternative," she concludes.
Again, I confirm her assumption.
Biting my lip, I await for the loud shout, which indicates that I'm in trouble.
Instead, I get the following:
"Valentina, I see the way people treat you," the Headmistress states. "I see the way you do absolutely nothing to defend yourself, so may I ask, why did you do it? Help Reddman, I mean."
Gulping, I reply with:
"Because not helping him went against everything I stand for. Because not helping him meant I was equal to everyone else and I knew that I wasn't equal to them."
"Who's them? Kevin and his minions- I mean friends?"
I shake my head.
"The people who bully me," I retort.
There was a long pause before Miss offered me a glass of water and I accepted. She called in her secretary and soon, we were both drinking the coolest glass of water I've ever had.
"Well you understand that I cannot condemn this, right?" Havisham asks when serving me for the second time.
"I understand," I say after thanking her for the refill.
"And you understand that my silence has a price, right?"
This is when I freeze.
"What? You're not going to punish me?"
"No," she answers. "Miss Blue-Rose, I can tell you are a good student who wants nothing more than to succeed. Therefore, I will not report this to administration, or to your parents."
"Thank you! I-"
"Unfortunately," Miss interrupts, "you will have to do me a little favour."
"Favour?"
"Yes," she says with a smile. "You will have to give a tour to our newest student."
"Well that's alright," I think. "I can handle that."
She then turns to the door.
"You may come in now."
And as soon as I see the new student, my heart sinks.
Standing in the doorway of the office, is Heather Marie.
Wyatt's ex-girlfriend.