Sharp footsteps echoes in the silent underground station. The dark, grey walls shield the cold from entering the haven for all the citizens who dare to leave the safety of their homes into the loud and heavy blizzard at their doorsteps. But school is important. Learning is a bubble you can insert yourself in at anytime, blocking out the horrors of reality. And that is why a teenager is taking the subway in the middle of a snow storm.
It doesn't matter to the girl's step-parents if she gets stuck, or sick. Never has, never will. Years of ignorance and torture has taught her to be strong. Constrict her emotions; keep it inside. Isabella had always tried to ease them out of her, and for some time, this depressed and studious girl was happy. Then, the incident. Nightmares constricted her thinking, her grades slipped from A+ to A-, she felt lost, and guilty. So she changed, yet again. Emotions were lassoed back in, the poker face was perfected. She was a mess again, for the first time in years. She left her prestigious private school and entered a public one, creating a steady reputation as the smart yet cold genius, murderous with her glare, Bianca. She belligerently hid her previous school from her timeline, dropping false trails for those too curious for their own good. Bianca was alone again.
She had been called pretty, then ugly. Smart, then dumb. Had potential, useless. Cool, nerd. This then that. That then this. Who was she to trust? The only candidate was gone. The silent admirers at school, or the harshly critical ones at home? Hormone affected teenagers, or adults and step-siblings who didn't give a second glance? Judging or ignoring? She needed her work, she needed excessive homework, to convince her into a false sense of security. The repetition. Same alarm ring, same breakfast, same walk, same lull of the subway, same bell ringing, same load of work, same end of school, same drama, same shrieks and tears from the girls, same grunts and roars from the boys, same subway, walk, dinner. Nobody payed attention. Bianca cared more than she cared to admit, deep down. And it drove her crazy.
She sits down, her dark eyes scanning the compartments for any familiar faces. When she find none, she slumps in relief, her black hair toppling on to her face. Her earbuds are softly playing out Mozart, almost lulling her into a light slumber. It is on the train where she feels the most relaxed. Underneath the earth, all her problems above her. She knows she shouldn't enjoy the safety of the underground, especially after what happened, but Bianca can't help it. It's the only connection with her birth parents that she has, no matter how much she used to hate them. When the vehicle stops at her station, she immediately straightens, slips on a poker face, and strides into the open air, half an hour early. She can see no one but the school-loving nerds crowding the courtyard, the jocks and cheerleaders all delighted at a chance to skip school. Expected. Some especially glum students are moping around, probably living in the area, and have strict and academically powered parents. Closing her eyes, Bianca walks forward 3 steps, and gets bumped into. Eyes flying open, she glares at the clumsy one in front of her, clearly expecting for the victim to wither, but instead finds a cheery, blonde girl, with blue eyes, grinning up.
"Sorry!" she bubbles.
"Move."
"Sure thing! Oh, and here." she twitters, handing her the fallen book. Bianca grudgingly thanks her, and walk off. She ponders over the unexpected attitude. Why didn't she wither into nothingness at the glare? How could someone be so clumsy?
Bianca hears snorts of laughter from far off, and she sees the blonde laughing at something, and occasionally glancing in her direction. Anger flares in understanding; dares would be the end of her. She glares at the large group, and this time they all look away, and abruptly stop laughing. Smirking in satisfaction, the dark haired girl walks into school, ignoring some, glaring at the rest. Her locker is plain, clean, and organized. She grabs her books and heads off to her first class; Geography. She doesn't see someone gaping at her out of the Principle's office.
"Alright class, today you're going to get back your quizzes that you took yesterday." the teacher calls out, obviously not caring that half of the class was on their phones.
A+. The teacher beams at me, his mustache bobbling. He hands it out to everyone else, and I can see kids groaning at their results, complaining about it to their friends. Something stirs inside my stomach, but I didn't know what it was. It swirled in negative emotions, ones that I was familiar with such as anger, but others that were somewhat new.
I looked at all the kids sitting next to their friends, gossiping away, and realized nobody was sitting near me Normally I would be pleased about this, but today was different. I felt, saddened almost… but not exactly. This scared me; I was independent and powerful, not the social.
"So kids, listen up! If you got a F to a D, you will get abou-"
"CAN MS. BIANCA PLEASE COME TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE. I REPEAT, CAN MS. BIANCA PLEASE COME TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE."
"HAHA! Is Wittle Miss Pewfect in twuble?" trills a girl, laughing venomously. I glare. She shuts up.
"Is there a reason for this?" I ask the teacher, standing up.
"I think it's to show a new student around. Nick or something, I forget the name." the teacher replies, frowning.
I nod in understanding, and stride to the office. I see a mop of black hair in the seat, looking somewhat familiar. The pale skin as well... The principal, Ms. Martel, brightens at my face, and looks back at the boy.
"Bianca!" the boy jolts straight, "This is Nico di Angelo."
Oh gods.
He whips his head around, and I have all the confirmation I need. I slump, and I feel bile slowly travelling up my throat. I gasp for air, and mutter something like, 'sick gotta go', and run out of that wretched room.
How did they find me? Were they looking? Wasn't my cover enough? Surely I was acting fine. Do they even have confirmation that I am the Bianca they're looking for, not some other random one?
I slump over the sink in the bathroom and vomit, the sick taste lingering in my mouth. I look at myself in the mirror. My face is shiny, and even more pale then my resting face. My hair is sticking to my face, making me look like I came out of a freakishly cold shower. I run out of the bathroom and into the locker rooms, and wash my face and hair with a wet towel. I slump down, hyperventilating. I grab a tissue and a pen from my bag and write down all the things wrong right now.
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has supposedly found me.
I am friendless.
THEY are about to obliterate my cover.
I'm so dead.
I arrange my hair properly, formulating a plan. Act ignorant. Feign. Plastering the I-Am-Better-Than-You face back on, I rush to the nurse's office, and get some water and medicine. I take a deep breath and walk back into the office. Nico turns around again, his eyes tearing up slightly, but still narrowed.
Great. I can still read his emotions.
"Sorry Ms. Martel. I had to walk through the snow, and I must have fallen sick. I feel better now." I say curtly. Said person looks at me curiously and nods.
"Could you still take Mr. di Angelo around? I understand if you can't, of course." she suggests timidly.
"Oh, it's no problem." I say, nodding. I then turn to Nico.
"Bianca Ikin." I put out my hand. He takes it tenderly; unsurely.
"Nico di Angelo." in a deep voice, slightly croaky.
"Do you two know each other?" Ms. Martel asks.
"No!" both of us nearly shout.
She looks at us knowingly, and I inwardly gag. Does she really think that I like him? I smile at the oblivious principal and say,
"I have a boyfriend, Ms. Martel."
That is a complete lie. I do not.
Nico gapes at me. Oh yeah, he totally knows who I am. Cue the stomach ache.
We exit the room.
"So, Nico, when did you get… here?" I ask.
"Um, a week ago." he seems uptight.
"I don't normally talk to people, so enjoy it while you can." I add shooting a glare at his way. He shoots one back.
"Taught you well didn't I." I mutter quietly.
He glances at me.
"Well di Angelo, you have to go that way, into that door. I'll meet you outside." I say briskly, and rush to my own classroom.
"I had a sister named Bianca! She died a few years ago." he blurts, scanning my face for any sign of recognition. I try to hide it.
"Oh. Sorry, I didn't know anyone who shared my name." I say, and rush into the classroom, with a rushed good bye.
"Ah, Bianca. You finally decided to join us." a voice drawls. I check the class number. Definitely Geo, why is Mr. Esme here?
"I was showing a new kid to his class." I reply, glaring at the murderous teacher I had grown to hate.
"Ah, Mr. di Angelo, is it?" the dark haired man smirks.
"Yes."
"Well surely, you know how to sit. Or are you going to blame that on the idiotic mustache man?"
The class snickers at the description of their geography teacher. Class, needless to say, was terrible.
"Class dissmissed. Ah, Ms. Ikin, mind talking to me now? Rest of you get your lazy arses OUT!" the teacher yells.
I pack up and timidly walk up to the teacher.
"Hello, dear sister. Mind explaining to me why you have caused you beloved brother so much pain?"
I narrow my eyes.
"Oh yes, Ms. di Angelo, I indeed know who you are."