ISABELLA

CHAPTER ONE - "ASSEMBLY"

OCTOBER 1ST, MONDAY

"WHY WOULD THERE just be a random assembly in the middle of a lesson?" I heard someone question among the loud chatter as I walked down the steps that led to the speech hall, groaning as I realised what was in front of me.

"Well, fuck me," I mumbled under my breath.

Trying not to immediately off myself at the sight of people, I blended and made my way into the giant group of students who were lining up in front of the wooden doors, waiting for the students in front of them to declutter and spread, allowing us space to go into the hall and take our respective seats on the benches.

I yawned, silently regretting staying up until three to binge watch some random show I found on Netflix.

Suddenly, I was shoved backwards, pushing my back flush against someone's chest, and stepping on their foot at the same time.

Fantastic.

I panicked, a million thoughts and apologies running through my head. I looked down at the tiled floor, avoiding the person's gaze at all cost and quietly mumbled a, "Sorry," under my breath, not wanting to draw the attention of the surrounding people.

Five minutes without causing a social-interaction related incident? Not on my watch, apparently.

I shuffled through the crowd in a quick pace, bumping into some people and mumbling multiple apologies without looking at the people's faces, wanting to get as far away from the person I ran into and avoid any other further embarrassment.

After looking through the crowd and making sure that I am as far as humanly possible from the person I bumped into, I took a deep breath and felt my cheeks turning warmer and warmer.

As I slowly melted into a puddle of shame, contemplating my existence, I repeated the scene in my head, playing it over and over again as I fidgeted and fumbled with the sleeves of my sweatshirt nervously, my palms getting sweaty and clammy.

Eyes darting around the entire room, the usual steady beat of my heartbeat sped up and became faster, as loud as drums in my ears, deafening beat after beat ringing and ringing like a never-ending metronome.

Ah, the perks of being a new student with crippling social anxiety.

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, waiting anxiously for the people to move as I chewed on my already short nails.

After a while of people murmuring to each other and others just standing in place, not moving an inch, the students in front of us that were inside the hall found themselves benches to sit on, resulting in the long queue finally moving after what seemed like a billion light years.

I hurried into the hall, finding the least crowded space possible in the back corner and sitting down, putting my school bag onto the seat next to me carelessly by one of the back straps, creating a small and quiet thud against the hard surface.

Looking around me and making sure that nobody was going to sit next to me, a sigh of relief escaped and I let out a breath.

Then, glancing in front of me, I spotted her.

She nodded, tucking a strand of her long, black hair behind her ear as the lights from the ceiling shined onto her skin. Her head was turned to the side to listen to the girl that sat next to her talk, the corners of her pink lips raised up into a smile that was as sweet as honey.

Her brown eyes, as gorgeous as the unending sky, glimmered and danced with joy as her friend, Priyanka, whispered something to her, making her punch her friend's shoulder lightly, barely affecting the other girl, and laugh out loud, her laughter being the only thing I could hear at the moment, ringing through my ears like sweet music.

I vomited a little into my mouth at my own thoughts.

She wasn't with her usual group of friends - Also known as the popular group that comprised of people who were friendly, but somehow incredibly intimidating to even make eye contact with.

Her group was a strange one, really.

Even with my position and reputation as the new girl, I still understood their positions on the top end of the popularity scale.

From the glances of admiration towards the group by different people sitting beside them, to the murmurs between the bathroom stalls, and in semi-empty classrooms within different crowds, they were pretty well known.

The most common names I'd hear from the group was, quite obviously, Nathan Smith.

The school's golden boy. The captain of the baseball team with a heart of gold, a genetically blessed family tree, and apparently enough charisma to win over practically the entire female population in school.

I had also picked up a variety of other names from the murmurings. However, Ro was never quite talked about among them.

She was still one of the group - of course - but her name was never put right alongside the rest of the group. There wasn't a high, golden pedestal for her.

It was odd, but I figured it was just purely because of the fact that I had mostly heard the words from girls, and not every girl in school was hopelessly head over heels for the said girl.

"Good morning, students," The principal started, causing the muttering and chats faded as she started speaking, the hall turning silent and quiet with the only source of sound being her voice. She continued, "I apologise for this sudden assembly, but we have just been informed of a dreadful incident that happened just yesterday."

She cleared her throat loudly, the students beneath her began to talk again, only quieter and in softer, more curious tones.

"Lucas Middleton, a heavily valued student who has contributed massively to the community of Westfield High," The principal stopped in her tracks and took a deep breath, the sound echoing through the hall.

Lucas Middleton.

That name rang through my ears as a sense of familiarity overcame me. I had never met him, but his name gave me a sudden sense of unfamiliar nostalgia.

Then, I realised that the name was the same name that was uttered from her lips every single day, at least twice every half an hour.

This particular name belonged to the best friend of the boy she was crazy over.

Nathan.

Even though I've only talked to Lucas a mere total of two times and occasional greetings in Maths club, and have never even met Nathan in person, their names were so familiar to me - I could spell them backwards.

Times and times, I would hear her rant about how gorgeous the boy looked, and how his best friend was always by his side, and how she wished she would have a friend like him by her side one day, not acknowledging me, who was by her side, listening to her rants.

Lovely.

"Lucas Middleton, a heavily valued student who has contributed massively to the community of Westfield High-" She repeated her words, saying the phrase again as the familiarity overcame me again. "-Passed away yesterday."

The crowd turned silent.

I chewed on my bottom lip, unknowing of how to react to the piece of newfound information that had been presented to me.

From the two exchanges of words and the minimal memories that I had of the boy, I had determined that Lucas was the shy, smart and kind boy who preferred to stay at the back of the classroom.

He stopped attending school a few months ago, and with the new intake of words from the principal, it caused me to shuffle anxiously in my seat.

I stayed silent, waiting quietly for the assembly to be over as she continued to speak from her script.

She read a bit more of the script out, but I just looked down at the floor and let the words wash over me.

"-That will be all," The principal said, finishing the assembly. "You are all dismissed."

The loud chatter erupted from the crowd as various students stood up and left the hall, the hall doors being swung open again and again, sometimes hitting the walls and emitting loud thuds as the wooden doors slammed against the brick walls.

I grabbed my bag beside me and swung it over my shoulder, walking towards the door to leave the hall, heading towards the bathroom.

But as I stepped out of the hall, I was rapidly pushed past and my shoulder crashed against something, or someone, else.

I silently wished death upon myself as I glanced up at the person who had smacked into me, wondering why God hates me so much.

"Sorry," The deep voice had murmured.

He was dressed in a black jacket, with cold, sharp blue eyes and hair that was just as dark as the material of his jacket. Next to him, in his arms, was a figure in a bright red hoodie, the hood tugged over their head.

"Uh, yeah, sorry." I swallowed, catching a quick glimpse of the brown curls that had peeked out from underneath the hood before the two shuffled past.

My eyes lingered at the back of the tall boy dressed in black, his fingers wrapped firmly around the shivering figure's shoulder as the two silhouettes got smaller and smaller.

I shook my head, shaking the thoughts out of my head.

I walked away from the crowd and in front of the female bathroom door. I grasped the metallic doorknob with my hand and twisted it, pulling open the door and walking in, letting the door close behind me.

I walked towards the sink and pulled up my already cuffed sleeves further. I made my hands into a bowl, collecting some cold water that was running from the tap and leaning down slightly to bring my face to my hands, splashing my face with the icy liquid.

"BANG!"

Fucking hell-

I swear, can't a girl just wash her face and have an existential crisis in a school bathroom by herself in peace?

My eyes snapped open in surprise, causing me to dry my face with a piece of tissue quickly before turning around to try and spot the source of the sound. "Hello?"

Sobs and sniffles came from the stalls, resulting in me turning towards the direction of the stalls and putting my bag on a wooden changing bench nearby before heading towards the stalls, putting my hand against each stall door until I found the source of the crying and sniffling.

I stood before the last stall, debating in my head either to actually comfort the person or to just leave while I still could to avoid any awkward impressions and words that the unwanted conversation might cause me to give.

But as I heard the heart-wrecking sobs come from inside the stall, I decided on the former.

"Are you all right in there?" I asked, knocking on the stall door with my knuckles, only to have no response from the person inside. Hoping to give the person some kind of comfort, I continued, "You can talk to me, I mean, only if you want to, of course."

The crying and sniffling stopped for a moment as only silence could be heard in the bathroom. However, the brief silence was interrupted quickly by the sound of metal scraping against metal, like the sound of a lock turning.

I stood there, stunned.

Uh.

Okay, so this was unexpected.

I mentally slapped myself across the face for not considering the fact that they would actually open the door at my attempt at being nice before continuing down the rabbit hole that I dragged myself into.

I dragged the stall door, not knowing who to expect behind the door.

It was her.

"Ro?" I questioned in confusion, blinking and rubbing my eyes multiple times to confirm that the girl was indeed in front of me, sitting on the toilet with the lid down, tears trailing down her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around her backpack on her lap.

Her folded, black-rimmed, circular glasses were held in one of her hands as she wiped her eyes with the other.

Ro sniffled again before giving me a weak smile.

"Hi."

I walked into the stall and in front of her, trying to suppress the feeling of butterflies in my stomach as my heartbeat sped up, making my hands clammy and sweaty once more as I tried to wipe my hands on my sweatshirt without her noticing.

"Do you need tissues?" I asked, looking at the empty brown cardboard toilet roll on the holder and pointing towards it. "It looks like you're kind of empty."

She laughed slightly, her eyes still brimming with tears, but an almost smile clinging on her lips. She said, "Yeah, you'd think if I was to find a bathroom stall to cry in, I would've at least chosen one actually with tissues."

Her eyes were slightly reddened from tears, but they were still as gorgeous as ever. They were dark, but in a heartwarming, homely way.

Ah.

Fucking feelings.

I chuckled slightly before digging through the pocket of my black ripped jeans and handed her a pack of tissue, to which she took gratefully, took a piece of tissue out of and wiped her eyes before blowing her nose with. She mumbled, "Sorry."

I watched as her calloused fingers from years of violin lessons wrapped around the piece of tissue paper, remembering about how much she had complained about them being way too short to reach the correct notes, or her nails growing way too fast and needed her to trim them every other week.

I pinched myself on my thigh, the much-needed pain bringing me back to the real world.

"It's all right." I smiled softly, or as kindly as I could manage, putting my hands in my pockets. I fumbled with my feet, shifting my weight from side to side as awkwardness came between us.

"Are you all okay?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Nope," Ro answered. She fidgeted with the piece of tissue that was in her hands, wrinkling and crinkling the corners and unravelling them again. "I'm trying my hardest to process the information that's going through my brain, and at the moment, it is not working."

She took another piece of tissue out from the plastic packet and wiping her eyes with it, dampening the soft paper with her tears.

She apologized, "Sorry for forcing you to, you know, sit in a bathroom stall with me while I cry my eyes out."

"Don't worry, I like helping people," I blatantly lied, smiling to not let her sense anything all the while trying to not let my crippling social anxiety get to me as I diverted the subject.

I glanced around the stall nervously, resisting the urge to chew on my nails as I asked, "Uh, didn't you have anyone else to be with you, like, during the assembly?"

"I kind of just- ran out the moment the assembly ended and sprinted into the nearest bathroom." Ro sighed, shaking her head softly. "So it was just me, Ro Zhang, crying, all by myself, in the bathroom."

I looked at her delicate features, my heartbeat going through the roof.

I then cursed my heart for being an insensitive asshole, as it really wasn't the time to explode from how pretty she looked right after one of her friends had just passed away.

"I mean, now you have me, Isabella Del Vecchio, to cry with, together, in the bathroom." I tried comforting her, copying her pause between phrases.

She smiled again before wiping her nose with the white piece of tissue, unfolding the black-rimmed glasses that she held in her hand and put them on. Then, she stood up from the toilet, putting the straps of her bag over her shoulders.

I walked out of the stall and grabbed my bag from the changing bench, not bothered to have it on properly, I just held one strap with my hand.

Trying to not pass out and collapse from the sheer amount of anxiety was already hard enough. Give me a break.

We walked out of the bathroom as I finally was bothered enough to wear my backpack properly. I took a large inhale, slightly amazed at the fact that I had achieved a successful session of social interaction with not just any other person, but her.

"So, talk to you later?" She asked, smiling at me as her chocolate brown eyes, which were rimmed with a shade of pink, looked into mine, sparkling.

I smiled back at her, the corners of my lips raised.

"Yeah, talk to you later."

I cursed my heart again.

Lovely.

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