Press play when you see [***]

Paragraph after paragraph I read aloud. I am stopped when others have questions and Miss. Avon wants to explain or elaborate. Klaer turns around and sneers at me whenever I stumble over a word or mispronounce any terms. I want to glare back at her but then I wouldn't be able to the words, only out of the corner of my eyes, like I see her scowl.

The bell marking the end of the day saves me from reading aloud anymore and I pack away my books as quickly as possible. Clarke picks up my bag for me and just as I go to grab it, Miss. Avon approaches me.

"I hope tomorrow you won't stare at Torelli here for a full ten minutes again.

"Yes miss, I won't miss."

"Wonderful."

Miss. Avon walks (struts) away smiling at Klaer (who grins back), then continues looking superior and almighty back at me. She tends to the kids having to serve out detention. I put my bag on my back and realise Clarke is staring at me, the tips of his ears pink. Red patches spread across my face.

"I'm sorry," I mumble as we walk out together.

"No, I'm sorry she made you read aloud for half an hour," Clarke sighs.

"I should've been paying more attention anyway," I huff.

"Were you really-"

"I'm sorry," I interrupt.

"Why are you apologising?" he asks, frowning.

"I um... whenI'membarrassedIsaysorrybecauseI'mawkwardanddon'tknowwhatosay."

He blinks for a moment before laughing, "I don't want you to be embarrassed around me, Tria."

"Never," I agree.

"I've got to go to Badminton practice, we have a comp coming up soon."

"Good luck then," I wish.

"Thanks," he replies, "I'll be home by about five."

The noise of people filling in the quadrangle made it hard to hear him.

"I'll talk to you then," I promise, looking at the small cut on his chin.

He steps forward to hug me and I wrap my arms around his torso, breathing in the unforced scent. I can't decide what I'm feeling, but it is beautiful. A beautiful feeling I have never felt before and never thought I would, but I want to feel it forever. It makes me feel like I'm soaring across a thousand different continents and never going to stop.

We break apart. The moment's too soon.

"Talk to you later," he whispers, "thank you."

"For what?"

He just grins.

Darrin and Mianna bound up to us with an extra spring in their step as if something has liberated them. Clarke and Darrin walk away to the Badminton courts together near the oval, Clarke looking back at me, grinning happily, confidently... longingly. My face heats up and my palms dampen. The twist in my stomach remains.

"Someone's got themselves a boyfrienddddddd," Mianna sings in my ear.

A smile spreads across my lips and I make a delayed start towards the Train Station.

"The Badminton Captain," she starts, "possibly the smartest guy in our grade and he's..."

"Beautiful," I continue, starring up at the clouds. I kick a rock along the footpath, Clarke Torelli can be seen coming out of the change room in his Badminton uniform with the rest of the team including Darrin, Louis and Theo. I stop and look through the fence at him, the small cut on his chin cannot be seen at this distance (nor was it obvious anyway) so all his perfections radiate off of him, he shines with a brilliant aura.

He sees me looking at him and from the long distance between us, I can see his warm grin. He nudges Darrin and the both grin in our direction. [***]

"Look at Darrin," Mianna sighs, "look at that angular jaw, that silky hair, those amber oh so amber eyes.... And those calves, Petria! He does jogging too, did you know?"

I faintly ignore her as Clarke is gazing at me, holding his Badminton racquet (I didn't even know what it was called). Suddenly his endless brown eyes widen and he points behind me. I narrow my eyes... and turn around... slowly... like in a... horror...movie. The blood in my veins boiled as if the intense incidental music sounds in my ears as if I'm in the battle scene in Narnia.

...Klaer

...is standing behind me, weight shifted to the right, arms crossed and eyes filled with serious anger. She is giving us the dirtiest look she can muster. And for a moment my eyes flicker to her talon-like nails. My cheek suddenly throbs. Mianna grabs my wrist in one strong move, and we attempt to walk away but Klaer's clique surrounds us. Lucia Gale and Tamii Harrington side-eye each other, Alisha Esposito and Mae Simpsons stick close to Klaer.

I look to Mianna desperately to find way to escape this, and her hand is moving widly around her pocket. 

"Is this how you're gonna play it?" Mae sneers, rolling back her shoulders to look as tall as she ever could be.

"What have we done to provoke your actions this fine afternoon?" Mianna asks, calmly, ever so calmly.

"That's not how it works, Mia," Tamii retorts, "Mae was talking to Kafka here."

All beady eyes change their course and land on me. My body temperature skyrockets a few degrees, making me feel faint and in need of an ambulance. I wipe my sticky palms on my skirt, closing my arms briefly.

"There'd be a better outcome if you just left us alone," I reply quietly.

"Sorry to disappoint, but we're not leaving until-"

"I-" I begin.

"We," Mianna interrupts.

"We don't want to talk to you at all!" I blurt.

"Well, we're going to be here a long, long time then," Klaer states, raising her eyebrows.

I try to push through the girls but Alisha pushes me back into the fence, a pole hits my shoulder blade (is it called a patella... or scapula?) and I gasp.

"What did I tell you, girls?" Klaer announces and steps forward, "She's nothing but skin and bone. Skin. And. Bone."

She grabs my wrist and wrenches it up into an awkward position and a small moan escapes my mouth.

"You think hiding behind Clarke and his Badminton Team is going to keep you safe?" she asks softly, so soft only I can hear. So close I can smell her minty, gum chewing breath.

"Leave me alone!" I hiss, "take your posse and LEAVE ME ALONE."

"NO!" Klaer yells, "NO! Not until you tell me this ridiculous plan of yours, Petria! Every single bit of it."

"It's not a plan!" Mianna yells, drawing me back and standing in front of me. Lucia shoves her out of the way, and she stumbles back onto the ground. Mianna glares and tries to get up.

"Little Miss Pretty can stay out of it!" Lucia spits.

"How is that meant to be offensive?" Mianna splutters.

Klaer steps forward again, rolling her eyes. I back into the gate hitting the back of my head on a foundation pole, "What's up with you and Clarke Torelli?"

She runs her finger across the scratch she made on my cheek, my heart beating so incredibly fast, the people on Rottnest Island could hear it. Then she slaps me, hard. I cup my cheek in my hand and stare at her, open-mouthed. Pain throbs through my face, her long, sharp talons had caught on my skin and I could fall the small line of blood trickle down my cheek, slowly, but surely.

"HOW DARE YOU?!" Mianna shrieks, but she's shoved down to the ground by Mae... and she groans... 

...now it's physical bullying.