RYOT GRL

Chapter 6

I’m woken up by my mum, pulling the covers off me and shaking me awake. “Dodo you have 15 minutes to get to school”. I roll over on my other side. I purposefully didn’t set an alarm last night, just to spite her for making me go. “I can’t be late on my first day. Just call in and tell them I’m sick I’ll go tomorrow”, I wager, and she taps her heels in frustration on the floor. “No because tomorrow you’ll make another excuse”, she snaps, and I groan pushing myself off from the bed. “Fine”. In ten minutes, I’m dressed. She’s lucky I had a shower last night or there would be no way of me getting to those front gates in time. I’ve put on a grey sweater, my black ripped jeans and my black vans. Also tying my hair into a ponytail and applying a generous layer of eyeliner to both my lids. I would have gone full goth, but I didn’t have time. She was pushing me out the door halfway through me applying primer to my lids. “I’ll see you later. Have a good day”, she pronounces, and I begrudgingly start walking. I could not go; stalk around the neighbourhood for a while and then come back but part of me wants to see Castle after what happened yesterday. The thought of seeing him again sends me heart racing; the thought of our kiss still playing in my mind.

I trudge into reception, it’s the same women as before and she eyes me suspiciously. “Are you carrying anything”, her face deadly serious as she narrows her sharp brown eyes at me. “No”, I respond, my tone cold. I can see the way she looks down at my appearance and the constant scowl on my face that she’s doesn’t like me, and I hope she’s aware that the feelings mutual.

“Here’s your timetable. You’re first lesson is in block C”, she huffs, and I scowl harder when I see my first lesson is English. For the next half an hour, I walk around aimlessly trying to find my way around bumping into the occasional misfit who’s skipped class or the occasional couple who’s packing so much PDA I feel like telling them to get a room. I found block C after eventually having to ask a scared freshman where to go, When I did finally enter the class, I was supposed to be in 35 minutes late, no one noticed me standing in the doorway since the class was so rowdy. Half the people are looking at their phones. I hear the words party, then Lillian. I hear Castle and my ears prick up. Something about him having a fight. “Quiet”, the teacher calls and no one pays any attention. “Quiet”, she shouts louder, and the noise stops everyone turns to their seat, to gawk at me.

I glower hard and most eyes drop from my face to my outfit. I want to look intimidating, so no one will bother me. I turn to the teacher, who looks like she’s just come out of an 80’s album. She’s dressed in purple flares, with a green cardigan and a scarf wrapped around her neck. “Hi, I’m Mrs Janie”, she says smiling and I don’t smile back. Instead, I find an available seat in the class and I flop down. Anyone who looks at me, I glare at them and they soon stop gawking. “Ok. Class today we’re going to write an essay about Jane Eyre”, and a rumble of groans break out. Multiple heads hit the tables and I spot several eye rolls. “You should have read it over the summer”, she orders; trying to use her authority but failing miserably. She hands out papers before she stops at me. “Have you ever read Jane Eyre?”, she asks. “No”, I say, and she smiles encouragingly. “We are doing other books, pride and prejudice, the mockingbird or Emma”, she murmurs, and I shake my head. I haven’t heard of any of them.

“I watched the film Emma, it wasn’t really my thing”, I utter, and she frowns.

“Ok, just do the essay on any book you’ve read, or it doesn’t have to be book it could be about a particular event that happened or a place you went to”, she suggests. “Can’t I just not do the essay”, I say my voice flat. “No. You have to do something”. “I don’t want to write an essay”, I demand and push the paper away folding my arms. I hear a few snickers beside me watching our conversation. “Ok, fine”, she goes to her desk picking up a book. “You can start reading pride and prejudice”, she murmurs and leaves me too it. I’m happy to comply, opening it in the middle and look at the scribbles all arranged in straight lines. Because that’s all it is to me, scribbles, a bunch of patterns on a page. I have never read a book in my life. I don’t know how to read I was never taught. We moved around so much that it was impossible for me to learn. I was always going from one place to the other.

When I was younger it was easier for me to explain that I couldn’t read like the other kids or write sentences. The excuse I would use it I wasn’t taught that at my old school. But as I got older, I had to hide it. What 17-year-old doesn’t know how to read or write when they have the resources to?

I sit flickering through the pages until the bell rings. And when it does, I bolt out the door, leaving the book on the table. I hear her calling me to come back but I walk faster. My next class is in A block, so I’m left fruitlessly trying to find my way around again when I hear shouting and a wailing.

I follow the direction of the crying outside an empty classroom. to see 3 figures, I recognise one of whom I recognise as Castle standing over a boy. He looks like he’s a freshman, and he’s terrified. Tears are running down is eyes. I see how a crowd has formed around them. No one helping the boy, all with their phones out, taking photos and snickering to each other. And right at the head of it is Lillian, standing with her other cronies I saw yesterday. Castle punches him in the stomach and he cries out in pain. Having seen enough, I push my way through the crowd. “3 against 1 that’s hardly fair”, I retort harshly, standing like a protective barrier in front of the boy with my arms crossed, right in front of Castle. His eyes pass a wave of recognition and he smirks. “Dodo. Nice to see you again”, and I scowl in return.

“Why don’t you leave him alone?”, I order and crouch down, pulling the boy to his feet. “Stay out of it”, the other boy Hames has got his arm on my shoulder, and I shrug him off. “Wow, you really are so cool. Beating up this poor innocent boy with everyone watching you”, I hiss, and Castle clenches his jaw. “You don’t know what you’re talking about”, he spits, and I raise my eyebrows. “Oh, I think I do”. “Move out of the way”, he commands, his voice low and threatening. And I’m sure it’s worked every time. But not on me. “And if I don’t. Are you going to make me?”, I’m not afraid of him. He may be bigger and taller than me and with one punch he could knock me to the floor, but I’ve never been one to cower in the corner.

“You should watch yourself”, he sneers and looks to his other friends, who both look at him with the same hard expression before they walk off. Lillian glares at me before running off in pursuit of the other boys, her two groupies at her side. The crowd slowly disperses, and I turn my attention to the boy. He’s slightly smaller than me with no meat on him, ginger curls and an abundance of freckles on his cheeks. “Thank you”, he murmurs, his voice still trembling. “It’s what anyone else would have done if they had any brain cells”, I smile, and he returns it. Then I walk off, because if I stay any longer, he might think I’m like his guard dog. Ready to protect him at every hurdle and I’ve never been one to roll with a sidekick. I skip my next lesson and mooch around at break. Next period is art, so I don’t skip, I walk into the art room late and see already sitting down is the people I desperately didn’t want to be in here. I spot the two boys that were with Castle earlier who I’m guessing are Hames and Jordan. At the side is Lillian and another blonde girl glowering at me, their eyes narrowed into slits. And right in the middle is castle Maddox glaring at me. His eyes piercing straight into mine. I mirror his expression and take an available seat at the front, just as the teacher swans in. She’s looks young but is dressed like she’s raided her grandmothers’ closet, with a long skirt to her ankles, a cream blouse and an oversized mustard yellow cardigan. Her caramel streaked hair is pushed back into a tight bun with red glasses displayed on the bridge of her nose. “Today we’re doing self-portraits. Go find your easels”.

Everyone seems to know what they're doing so I sit there, pretending not to be bothered. I’m getting glares at every side of the room and I keep my eyes on the floor, unwilling to participate. “You can come work with us”, I look up and see the girls who gave me the tour of the school. Smiling eagerly at me. I shrug my shoulders since the teacher seems to be more interested in painting to really care what I do there’s no need for me to act up and refuse to do the work. Especially since art is my favourite subject. It’s the only class I’ve never been kicked out in.

“It’s Georgina and Sarah right”, I muse “Stella”, she cuts across quickly, her cheeks blushing red. “Stella, right”. I smirk. “We’re doing a topic on flowers”, she explains whilst I zone out. “Here. You can draw what you want, miss Briggs really doesn’t mind what you do as long as you draw something”. She slides a piece of paper across to me. Drawing helps me to drone out all the background noise, it’s how I deal with only having my mum and dog to talk to. I’m halfway through my portrait when I feel my skin standing up on end and I look to see my eyes locked with Castle Maddox. I turn away, hating the way my heart instantly beats faster. He doesn’t say anything, so I look up and frown. “Can I help you?”.

“Thanks for helping me out with the security guard the other day”. The mention of our kiss makes my skin blush red and if it weren’t for the foundation, I placed on this morning he would be able to tell how flustered I am about our kiss. I frown, as if I don’t know what he’s talking about. “In the clothes shop”, he mutters, noticing my confused expression. I tilt my head looking at him intently, which causes him to furrow his brows. “No. I think I would have remembered if I saw you”, I exclaim. “So, it’s like that. Is it?”, he thunders. His dark eyes flashing to mine, and I can’t hide away from them. There’s a burning anger in them as he stares me down and something else his eyes swimming with an emotion that’s so intense, I must force myself to look away. I clear my throat, straightening myself in the chair so we’re eye level. “Like what?”, I retort back and for a moment he says nothing; searching my face intently. “You shouldn’t have got in my way today. No one asked you to play the hero”, he fumes, and I bat my eyes innocently in response. “Well, someone had to do something. There were 3 of you beating up a helpless freshman who’s half the size of you”, I snap and his hands clench at his sides. “If you knew what he had done. You wouldn’t be thinking he’s so helpless”, he seethes, and I cross my arms over my chest. “Why? What did he do? Dare to look at you the wrong way”, I spit, and he recoils. “I’m just giving you a warning princess. Stay out of my way”.

“Don’t call me princess. And stay out of mine”. We glare at each other for a few more seconds before he stalks off back to his friends, whose eyes have been boring holes into me since I walked in. “I didn’t know you knew Castle”, Georgina inquires, and I swivel my eyes back to hers. “I helped a boy he was beating up. He didn’t take it very well”, I say, and her eyes widen. “You shouldn’t mess with Castle Maddox. He’s bad news”, Stella pipes. “That’s what he wants you to think. That he’s cruel and a bad boy so people will think he’s cool. There’s nothing scary about him”. I glance over to his table to see he’s staring at me, and the heat rises in my body. I hold his gaze for no longer than I need to and go back to my work. I finish shading my picture of a sunflower and can’t help but feel proud once it’s finished. I know I’m not the best artist but there’s a way I see things that I feel nobody else does. It’s why I can draw something without having to see it, I can just imagine it in my mind. “Oh wow, Dodo you’re really talented”, Stella gushes and I lean back in my chair, still scowling. I don’t take compliments very well, especially not about my art. I don’t need any reassurance from anyone to say it’s good. if someone told me my work was rubbish then I wouldn’t know what to do, since art is the only thing, I’ve ever been good at. “Omg it’s amazing”, Georgina praises and no sooner has the words passed Georgina's lips, a pot of green paint is poured all over my work making me stand up in a fury of anger. I look to the source to see Lillian with the cup in her hand watching as the paint pours all over the table. Her other cronies, Hope and Melissa are by her side, with the same smug smile etched on their faces. Truthfully if it weren’t for Lillian having brown hair as opposed to the rest of them having blonde, I wouldn’t be able to tell any of them apart. “Oops”, she hisses dropping the cup so it’s splatter on my top. All I do is grin at her and her failed attempt to intimidate me. “You can keep it”, I beam with a sarcastic undertone to my voice. I don’t wait for whatever bitchy reply she’s going to conjure up, instead striding out of the room, my head held high and proud, because there’s nothing any of them can say to hurt me.