Sweet Stuff

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"OLIVIA SWEET," I breathe, glancing around me as I try to catch my breath. The woman before me lifts her watery blue eyes up with boredom as she looks over her half moon spectacles that seemed to be attached to a beaded necklace.

“Mr Robinson’s class, room 212.”

She holds out a sheet of paper which I take hastily, cursing the fact I was late on my first day. Despite panicking about being late, I noticed the hallway was still pretty crowded with students. I frown as I glance at the doors which sit either side of me, and see that most of the numbers are scratched off.

“Helpful,” I mutter, anxiety growing in my chest. As if my parents moving house in my final year wasn’t bad enough, I couldn’t even find my way to class. I heard someone jogging up beside me, and I tried to move in time, failing massively.

“Fucking hell, watch where you are going,” someone grunts, glaring at me as I leaned down to pick up my sheet of paper with my room details on. I look back up to defend myself, when I see the back of his head as he continues to run down the hallway.

“Welcome to the school, Olivia. My name is dickhead, pleased to meet you,” I mutter, when I hear someone chuckle beside me. I turn to see a pretty girl glancing down the hallway after said Dickhead, before looking back at me with interest.

“Sorry about that. Josh is clearly late for something, otherwise I’m sure he would have given you a nicer welcome. I’m Poppy.”

She grins at me warmly as I hold my paper up meekly.


I smiled with relief, pleased someone in the school seemed to be pleasant. “I’m late already,” I admitted, as she peered at my sheet, grinning widely.

“You’re in my tutor! Mr Robinson is so relaxed, don’t stress about being late. Anyway, you’re not late, it's barely nine.”

I follow her down the hallway, noticing how most people are staring at me with interest. A tall, skinny boy walks up to Poppy, his eyes on me as she makes the briefest of introductions.

“This is Olivia, Olivia, this is Deacon.”

“Alright?” he yawned, before grinning at me. “You’re new. Cool.”

Poppy and I exchanged a look, before walking on.

“Deacon is harmless. He is the guy most people go to if they want something, if you know what I mean,” Poppy wiggled her eyebrows as she pushed open a heavy door, revealing a fairly empty classroom. “Sit with me,” she tapped the desk beside hers as she pulled out her phone, before offering it to me. I glance down to see a blank space for me to input my name, as a variety of accounts hover around the search button. Instagram, I thought.

“Oh, I don’t have any social media accounts,” I sighed, handing her back the phone as she gaped at me. I was used to this reaction, but I simply sat back in my chair, glancing around the room with interest.

“Shit, you got like, strict parents?”

“Um, I just don’t like social media. It’s invasive,” I say, hoping she doesn’t pry. Students start to pile in, and I feel my nerves rising as Poppy talks excitedly to a variety of people, leaving me sitting on my own like a loser. Eventually the teacher walked in, and Poppy slid back into her chair as she grins at me. I guess as far as schools go, it wasn’t much different to my old one. It didn’t have my old friends, but then again, I could walk down the hallway without being asked questions constantly that I couldn't answer.

“We have a new student with us-”

My cheeks burned at the teacher's words, when the door opened, revealing the most handsome guy I’d ever seen. His blue eyes scanned the room briefly, before he held up a hand, mumbling an apology to the teacher as he moved towards the back of the class quietly. I didn’t dare turn my head round to look at him, but I could almost feel the magnetic pull drawing me to him.

“That’s Nix. Swoon, am I right?” Poppy whispered, winking at me as I turned to find those startling blue eyes staring at me. I whipped my head around, my cheeks burning at the fact I’d been caught checking him out. What sort of name was Nix?

Great start, Olivia.

“Her name is Olivia, and she has moved from London. So, welcome to the Midlands, Olivia. If you need anything, just ask.”

I nod, wishing the ground would just open and swallow me up. The teacher continued to talk, thankfully no longer about me. I was grateful he didn’t do any of those ridiculous ice breakers, getting me to explain who I was, what my favourite colour was and all that crap. I find myself daydreaming, still tired from not being able to sleep much after spending most of the night tossing and turning, worried about my first day here. Mr Robinson drops my timetable onto my desk, which Poppy wastes no time checking out.

“Shit, we only have one lesson together today, but if you want I’ll meet you for lunch? I’ll come to your class, it’s closer to the canteen anyway.”

I nod gratefully, examining my timetable as the bell goes. Room 210 must be nearby, I realised. English literature- my favourite. I take my time getting my stuff, waving goodbye to Poppy as she leaves, chattering excitedly with a group of girls that she had met up with outside the class. I suddenly feel self conscious in my paint splattered jeans and shirt compared to their figure hugging outfits, their make up expertly applied. But we were in school, right? Regardless, I vowed to make a bit more of an effort tomorrow.

“Hey, new girl. What’s your insta?”

I cringed inwardly as I turned to see one of the girls with Poppy looking at me expectedly.

“I don’t have it,” I shrug, realising this was going to be the theme of my day. These people were social vultures. I was pleased they wouldn’t be able to know anything about me that I didn’t want them to know, as I walked past them with an apologetic smile.

“She doesn’t have insta?” I heard her gasp as Poppy sighs.

“So? I think it's different.”

“It’s weird. She is clearly hiding something.”

I can’t help but sigh as I made my way to my next class, pushing open the door to see it almost full, a shock compared to the previous class. Clearly this one was more popular. I find a seat, dragging out my notepad and pen as I write the date down, underlining it as I wait for the teacher to turn up. I begin to doodle with boredom, shading in the petals on the flower I’d drawn. I begin adding leaves and foliage, lost within my own world when I become aware of someone sitting beside me, sighing heavily.

“Nix, you coming on Saturday?” someone asks, and I froze, realising that the person sat beside me was the blue eyed creature from my tutor room.

He doesn’t answer, and I steal a glance at him to see him shrug dismissively. His skin was flawless, his full lips slightly parted. I couldn’t see his eyes as his curls had fallen in his face, but suddenly he lifted his head to stare at me head on. His eyes aren't just blue. They are electric blue, like they are lit up from within, framed by thick, dark lashes. I almost snapped my neck twisting away quickly, knowing that he was bound to say something. That was the second time he had caught me gazing at him, when I was simply intrigued.

That was all.

What surprised me the most though, was that he didn't say a word.

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