It wasn’t like Jackie was trying to get on Oliver’s nerves, but he was so stubborn and nasty that she couldn’t handle it. He gave no hint as to what she was doing or had done wrong for him to be such an ass. As soon as they had parted ways to go to class, he had refused to help her to her English classroom.

She had almost waltzed into two wrong classrooms before she spotted the room number hung on the door. Tucking her timetable away, she swaggered through the door. Every eye was on her, she was nearly taken aback. The teacher, a man in his early thirties, wore a hideous sweater, tousled light brown hair and spectacles. He looked like he barely slept at all, the smell of straight coffee radiated from him. Instantly, his attention was drawn to her. “You must be Jackie Sullivan, I’m Mr Keith, take a seat wherever,” he arched his arm towards the students who had started taking seats in the class.

Jackie’s light brown eyes glazed over the people sitting around, she took in the students. Three faces stood out. She recognised the three girls from the clothing store, where she had first met Nia. They sat in a V-formation. The girl who sat at the rear left grabbed Jackie’s attention first because of the unnecessary amount of green she wore. The next girl, at the head of the formation, wore a white blouse matched with a red and gold plaid skirt – a matching thick headband complimenting the look. The last one that Jackie recognised had dyed blonde hair, and a lot of baby pinks and purples. Her gaze flicked back to the plaid skirt girl, her smile sickly sweet and her head tilted. The girl’s honey eyes sparkled, complimenting her straightened, natural, blonde hair.

“Hi, I’m Danielle,” she greeted, motioning for Jackie to take the vacant seat beside her. Doing so, Jackie propped herself in the low seat. “I love your clothes – your sense is so amazing,” she gushed, her voice was smooth and feminine, Jackie could listen to it for hours. Her nails were manicured, and her hands looked so soft. This girl moisturised.

“You love my clothes?” she scoffed, sitting forward in her chair. “Girl, I’m living for your aesthetic,” she pointed at the iced coffee sitting on her desk. “I feel like you’re going to walk out of here with everyone’s A’s,” Danielle laughed, and so did her friends.

“Word on the street is, you used to live in the City,” Danielle leaned towards her desk, her friends listening in, too. Danielle’s eyes were sparkling, each glistening pool of blue. Flecks of sky blue and ocean blue twirled in her gorgeous irises. Jackie’s face warmed slightly. Shifting forward, she gave Danielle a warm grin.

“I did,” Jackie said. She could feel everyone’s stares, the room almost going silent to listen to her. “Actually, the train stops in my old area,” tucking her chair further under the table, she propped herself onto the desk before continuing, “The shops there were pretty lit.”

“That sounds… lit,” the girl dressed in all green giggled. She had beautifully brown skin, she clearly looked after it. Twined in her hair were green extensions, twirled around thick braids. “My name is Sally, but friends call my Sal,” she smiled sweetly, lips glossed to perfection. “What is trending – clothes wise?”

“We read a lot of magazines, like a lot, we’re subscribed to so many,” the third girl, with the dyed blonde hair, chipped in. “I’m Sofia,” she bit her lip, painted red, hand extended for Jackie to shake. Jackie took her hand in hers, giving her a strong shake.

“Jackie,” she said. “I got magazines too.”

“The city must be… amazing,” Danielle gushed, bringing the attention back on to her. Sally and Sofia nodded excitedly from beside her.

“I mean yeah, course it is,” she chuckled, her head spinning as she took in a deep breath, her chest feeling tight. Focusing on her breathing, she took a moment to collect herself before continuing. “The clothes there were all new and you could do whatever and there was always something to do,” she shrugged, thinking back to how life was like back there. Her whole life. “Tallwood isn’t that bad, small town is such an aesthetic.”

Danielle rolled her eyes and made a gagging noise, “That’s because you didn’t grow up here.” Everyone nodded in agreement.

Mr Keith called for attention, his gangly fingers scratching at his full head of hair. He already had chalk to a board before Jackie had gotten her book out. She wondered if this was Nia’s step-father that she had spoken so highly of. He did have a Mother hen vibe, a nurturing soft soul. As he proceeded to get into the topic that was going to be taught this year, Jackie zoned out, her pen gliding across the paper but nothing sinking into her mind. Her fingers clenched around the pen, itching to move, to dance across keys and play a song. But she refused. It wouldn’t sound the same. Her passion was gone – had been for almost a year now. Her passion for piano died in that car crash, along with her Father.