Sealed Hearts. ChapterTwo.
As Christine's eyes began to flicker open, she stretched her arms out above her head, letting out a yawn. Her room was illuminated with a bright light, shining down from the lampshade above her bed. With a groan, she threw the covers back, swinging her legs over, placing them on her white plush rug.
Plodding over to the window, she grasped each curtain and threw them open, looking out on the scenery of Greenok. Her eyes glistened as the morning sun shone brightly from the endless sky, the glorious rays reaching down and reflecting through the window, accentuating her natural beauty. Slowly, she ran her long elegant fingers through her blonde locks, watching over the sky as the clouds seemed to float around the sky in to particular pattern, however, still managing to look so beautiful as the formed shapes that had many meanings to different people.
The soft plod of footsteps decending down the staircase could be faintly heard from the kitchen where Christine sat eating her toast. A lovely brown bread, cut off a lovely freshly baked loaf with a lightly flowered crust, coated thick with butter melted all the way through with light pools on top.
"Connor, love? Are you ready?" She said softly, finishing her mouthful. Connor walked in slowly, he looked ill at ease. His shoulders weren't slouched, his eyes were still blood shot and his frame was upright, however, he was in his uniform.
His face was pale. His complection resembled a creamy porcelain dreamn, his lips a winter smile, his eyes hollow, no emotion.
"You ready to go?" She spoke softly, standing up as she walked over to him, reaching a hand out to rest it on his shoulder, which was instantly removed when Connor flinched, jumping back.
"Connor..." Christine gasped, moving back away from him. "I...let's just go..." She spoke, near to speechless, grabbing her bag as she walked to the front door.
-
"Most of you will recognise our new recruit here, though, so of you will not. So, Nikki, would you mind?" Michael smiled, giving her a nod.
"Hi everyone. I'm Nikki Boston, and I'm in charge of the Pupil Refferal Unit." She smiled, taking a strand of her medium lenth dark chocolate hair and tucking it behind her pierced ear.
Tom's lips twitched up into a sweet smile as he watched her, which when she noticed, a crimson blush washed over the area of her cheeks, even more so as he walked closer to her, resting a hand on her shoulder, smiling.
"Welcome back, Boston." He grinned his cheeky grin as he placed a chaste kiss on her cheek, arising an even bigger smile to form on her full plump lips.
-
"Connor, you can't blank me forever!" Imogen shouted from the bottom of the staircase, holding her cotton scarf firmly against her scar. turning slightly, Connor's eyes quickly glanced at her. He found he couldn't look at her for anymore than a few seconds without wanting to drop on his knees and tell her, be punished; even though he knew full well that no matter what punishment he underwent, it would be nowhere near as much as what Imogen had to deal with.
"Connor!" Her strong scottish aceent darted through him once again. He couldn't stop himself turning tound to face her, making sure his eyes were not looking into hers.
"What is it?" She said softly, emotion wrattling in her throat. "Is it me? Is it my scar?" She spoke, her shaking hand still clutching tightly to her linen scarf, her big tearfilled eyes scanning him as he looked down, unable to look at her.
"No." Was all he could manage to scrape together, the task of forming understandable sentences apparently becoming too much, as he caught a glimpse of her scar. The scar that he had caused. He shook his head, his walk transforming into a sprint as he ran out of the school, away from her and in his mind; away from the truth.
Stumbling into her classroom, her arms piled high with folders and books. "Books out, page 35." She spoke softly as she laid her possetions on her desk. Her eyes instinctively glanced towards he draw containing her stress relief method. Vodka. The temptation she had overcome for nearing a month. Her palms began to clam up, her fingers twitching, averting her eyes away from the drawer.
"Harley." Her tone wasn't unfriendly, in fact, it was bordering on the edge of friendly and calm. Proud even, proud that once again she had resisted the temptation of the bottle. But when the temptation catches up with you, you always fall harder.
"Mrs Mulgrew. Just the person I wanted to see." Sian smiled, catching up with Christine in the corridor, who stopped and turned round, smiling. "You okay, Sian?" She asked, shrugging a shoulder to keep her bag stable on it.
"Yeah, its just grades in science. I know a lot has happened but he has gone from being an A star canditade to a D or below in less than a term...I don't really know where to go with this." She explained. "He's a bright boy, which his earlier courseworks and exam results show, but he isn't concentrating. Which, I can sympathise, is understandable."
Christine nodded and smiled. "Thanks, I'll see if I can have a word." She spoke, trying to sound more confidnt than she felt.
As Sians eyes scanned their surroundings, her eyes widened, stopping on the front desk. She didn't understand, it was as if her brain short-circuited and needed to be rebooted. Why was he here?
"Who is it?" Christine whispered, eyeing the man at the entrance desk as Sians mouth opened and closed, failing to formulate words. He was there. It had been so long.
"That's my ex husband..." She whispered, walking over to him, her heart beating rapidly under her skin.
"Jez?" She spoke, shyly, to the man at the desk, his smile firmly placed on his face.
-
Tapping his pen on his desk, the sound of plastic and metal colliding, resounded throughout the room as Michael attempted to evaluate the schools progress on paper. The little attention he had accumulated soon had vanished as he heard his phone beep from his top drawer.
Unknown number.
'You haven't got rid of me. I'm still here. And you will see who, soon enough.'
Michaels face dropped,his blood running heated through his vains, a mixture of anxiety and worry, joining with fear. Who?