AN Hey guys! Its hunter becky here. I just found waterloo road on youtube and i am looooving it! so addicted atm. anyway this story is defiantely alot darker than anything ive done so far.

I wanted to pretend I was another normal girl.

Just another 16 year old walking thrugh the gates into Waterloo Road School.

But that...was a lie.

I'd been hiding all the pain inside for such a long time, it almost felt like it'd faded away into a smaller pain than the once overwhelming, all-consuming, heart-wrenching ache it had started as. Maybe I'd become as bad as Aiden? I didn't want to know.

I couldn't be like him!

He was horrible! The worst persun I'd ever known. I could lie to my friends but not myself. But did that mean he deserved…

No.

I couldn't think about it. Not until that day...when the past caught up with me.

"Hey Lorelei," said a voice.

I looked up, taking a deep breath. It was my best friend, Chantelle.

"Hi Chantelle. Sorry I was just….. Thinking."
"What about?"
"Oh. Just like exams and stuff."

"Oh but Lorelei, you don't need to worry about exams! You always get great grades. You're so clever, unlike most of the other girls here."

I smiled a little. Chantelle was right, I was definitely more interested in books and learning than make up and sex like the other girls in Year 12. Still, I wasn't sure that made me clever… i had low self-esteem. You could thank Aiden for that.

"Aw well thanks Chant."

Chantelle had been my best friend in forever.

She had bright blonde hair - the same vibrant colour of lemons and lemonade - with the warmest grey eyes I'd ever seen. She was one of the most stylish girls in our whole year group; with her slender figure and fishnet tights and heeled shoes and bright red lipstick. She almost always weared her hair up in a loose bun, exposing her signature triangle golden earrings. Her bright pink jacket had a floofy hood, and the wisps of hair escaping from her bun brushed against the lighter fur edge.

"Someone's started a campain to dig up the vegetable patch!" i told her. Of course, Chant didn't know the truth. But no-one could. They'd all hate me, and it'd be too much to bear.

"Why?"

"They wanna put some stupid bench there. To celebrate how old the school is." I told her, eyes of emerald mist staring off into the hopeless distance.

"What. A. Joke." was all Chantelle could say to me.

It wasn't fair to be mad though. She didn't know the truth.

"Who started the campagn?" Chantelle asked.

"It was Amy Porter." I said, growling under my breath.
"That slapper!" Chantelle said angrily.

I nodded in agreement.

"We need to try and stop it!" I told Chantelle desperately. The bell had rang and I had French first period while she was stuck in Maths; but I knew we'd manage to find each other at brake, along with the others. "Meet me in the quad at break with Shiloh and Kaitlyn!"

"See you then!" she nodded in agreement as we both parted ways.

I couldn't help but feel so very lonely as I made my way to French. I stood out in the hallways, but it was something I'd grown used to.

My hair fell down my back in a shimmering waterfall of leaping flames, as burning as the rays emitted by the sun. I wore it lose often, but I often braided it or wore clips in it. Today I had on a headband. It was white and stood out fiercly in the blinding ruby shades of my hair. My bright emerald eyes - flecked with spots of gold and silver - nervously traced the corridor as I glanced at several other students. Could they see the fear on my face?

Like Chantelle, I made sure my earrings weren't the usual hoops of the other girls. Mine were large pink love hearts, swinging from the quickness of my steps. I also always wore my signature white long socks, with little pink bows at the top; peaking out my flat plimsole shoes. I pulled my fluffy jacket a little closer as I saw the kew outside the classroom door approaching.

It was okay. I could do this.

"Settle down please!" Said Miss Haydock.

"Miss, did you hear about the bench?" Said Michaela White.

For a second Miss Haydock looked like she wanted to move onto telling us about verbs, but she caved pretty quickly. The bench had become the hottest school gossip somehow. I didn't get it. People hadn't got this mad since Mr Shamrock - the ex-geography teacher - had gotten Melissa Blentworth pregnant...with triplets!

"I'll have less chat about that bench, please. Unless it's in French, ha ha ha!" Laughed Miss Haydock.

"That slapper Amy Porter is the one behind it." Said Danielle.
"Yeah, what a munter!" Said Aleshia.

"Oi," said Haydock.

Just then there was a knock at the door. "Could I borrow Lorelei Greenberry for a moment?" Said a deep, comforting voice.

"Of course…. Mr Mead." Siad the French teacher. "Off you go."

I took a deep breath. OK…. Did this mean that Mr Mead knew? Was I in trouble?

You can do this, Lorelei, I told myself. Don't give anything away.

"Hi, Lolerei." Said Mr Mead once the door was shut.

Mr Mead was the nicest, kindest best looking teacher at waterloo road - not that that mattered now.

"Hello, Sir." I said, looking down.
"I ust need to talk to you."

OH NO. "w-what about?"

"Well I know you're at that hostel… i just wanted to make sure that you're alright and you don't need to go back to your foster home."

Relief flooded through me like a wave of water. "Oh.. I'm fine Sir."
Mr Mead looked at me. "Are you sure?"

I looked into his aquamarine eyes. If only… if only I could tell him the truth…. If only he'd understand….

No way. Aiden had always said Mr Mead didn't understand anything, and he wouldn't listen to me at all.

"I'm sure."