“If you don’t get up this instant I’m dragging you out of the house in your pyjamas”

My mother’s calm voice lulled me out of my slumber with a distinct sense of déjà vu. Carefully peeling my eyes open, I forced them to adjust to the harsh artificial lighting of my room while wiping the sleep out of my eyes.

Usually, my mother would not have been bothered with my unusual sleeping schedules, because she was always assured that I would be up before the crack of dawn to begin my morning routine. Recent events however, proved to wreak havoc upon my strategically planned bedtime timetable.

Each night before bed, I would count and re-count the number of hours of sleep I would be able to obtain before I had to wake up in the morning, always ensuring to squeeze in at least five hours. Ever since the breakup however, I had been over-sleeping in a sense. My sleeping schedule that was so mechanically planned out had been thrown out of whack and sent spiralling down the drain.

Both my mother and father had taken it upon themselves to pull me out of my slumber for the necessary meals that I barely ate, however yesterday my mother had decided that enough was enough. It was only wishful thinking to assume that she would leave me be and allow me to wallow in self-pity for much longer.

I lethargically sat up and rested against the wooden headboard as my eyes lazily drunk in the appearance of my mom. Her blonde hair was pulled neatly into a ballerina bun, with her glasses tucked securely into her coat pocket. The dark circles that were becoming prominent beneath her eyes were camouflaged under concealer that mimicked her skin tone to a T, successfully adding a youthful glowing mask to the aging skin beneath. Her eyes were clear and focused and she had officially stepped into her professional attire for the gruesome work day ahead.

With one hand cocked on her hip, she studied my features as I had done hers. She carefully scrutinized every last detail of my exhausted state, from my crumpled attire to the raw pinkness of my skin from the previous day’s activities. Her eyes softened slightly, as she dropped her professional persona and engulfed me into a tight embrace.

I melted into the arms of my mother, grateful for her warmth and love. My mind still heavily ridden with drowsiness dulled my senses and nearly caused me to miss my mother’s words of comfort. She mumbled into my hair, and I had to pull away slightly to hear.

“You have thirty minutes to get ready for school darling” she lulled, as if coaxing me to sleep. My mind took a few moments to process her words, which in fact, were not words of comfort.

“What do you mean mom? I’m not going to school” I opposed, hastily scrambling out of her embrace. I pulled the comforters securely around my body as if to protect me from her carefully planned argument.

“This isn’t up for discussion honey. I called the school and informed them that your ‘stomach bug’ had gone and that you’d received clearing from a doctor to return”

“But mom-”

“I said it wasn’t up for discussion Georgia. I’m sorry but I’m not going to lie to the school any longer, plus you’re missing out on school work during the most vital year of your education” she rebutted.

My shoulders sagged in defeat as I knew fully well that I was fighting a losing battle. “I’m not ready” I broke, tears pooling beneath my lids. I closed my eyes and tilted my head towards the ceiling, willing my tears to return to their rightful places.

I was tired of crying, tired of trying not to cry and ironically, tired of sleeping, but still, I tried one last time, “It’s Friday, please, just give me one more day” I begged.

“I’m sorry love. Giving you Friday off would be like granting you three more days of suffocation- because that’s exactly what you’re doing Georgia” she stated defeated, “You’re suffocating”

The anguish in her eyes was unmistakable.

She was hurting, because I was hurting.

“And I can’t let you hurt yourself like this”

“I know mom”

“This is for the best”

“I know mom”

“You have to face your struggles and fears head on if yo-”

“Mom!” I stopped her mid-sentence, “I know” I stated with a watery smile. Mom had the habit of giving out more advice than actually needed. Dad and I assumed that half the time she was actually trying to convince herself, but she had always denied it.

“Get ready. I want to drive you to school” She pulled me into a quick hug and left a fleeting kiss on my forehead, and with that, she made her exit from my room, leaving me to my own thoughts.

Yesterday I had wandered aimlessly around the town, taking guesses as to whether I should take the left or the right street. It turned out that my sense of direction was not as sharp as I had remembered. Thankfully, after a couple minutes of walking around like a confused child with an equally confused dog, I spotted some very familiar land marks that I used to guide my way home.

I never thought that I would have been quite as happy to see a McDonald’s as I had been that day.

Winnie and I had successfully managed to drag ourselves back home, both dehydrated and panting like dogs, where we found my sleek cell phone, plugged in to the wall outlet on the foyer’s antique side table- just where I had left it.

****

Between yesterday’s episode and my impending dilemma at school, my thoughts were occupied during the entirety of the ride. My mother pulled into the visitor’s parking lot at school and I stayed seated for a few moments to collect myself.

“You’re ready for this Georgia” my mother stated, leaving no room for questions.

Her motherly optimism did nothing to settle the nerves that ran rampage through my body; however I took a deep breath and exited the Mercedes.

Hoisting the bag on my shoulder, I listened to the gravel that crunched beneath my feet. I had opted for flats today, my feet still sore from yesterday’s impromptu adventure.

“Okay Georgia. You can do this” I mumbled to myself.

“There’s so much worse than could have happened to you; you could’ve been killed yesterday- yes, think about that”

“Deep breaths- oh god I can’t do this”

To the average bystander, I probably looked like a recently escaped mental patient, but the knots in my stomach tightened with each step that I took.

 The polished doors to Radford Preparatory seemed to loom overhead, daunting me. I briefly wondered how I had managed to seemingly levitate towards them, despite my obvious failed attempts of lagging.

With a half-hearted push I entered the building.

I half expected the crowd of bustling students that littered the main hallway to halt their activities and clear a path. They mindless chatter that echoed throughout the hall never ceased, and continued in my presence.

No heads turned towards me. It was as if my presence had not affected them whatsoever.

Because it didn’t, you idiot.

I scoffed at my misjudgement and made my way towards my locker, silently grateful for the continuation of my classmates’ conversations. When I spun the combination to my locker, it opened with a soft click and only then did I notice a few curious glances being cast my way.

Brushing that aside, I quickly scanned the hall for signs of my friends. My eyes danced over several other friends, but they were targeting either Breanna or Lauren, or hopefully both. It seemed like forever ago that we had all three been together, when in reality it was only last week Friday.

I was carefully scanning the meticulously organized contents of my locker when a girl with fiery red hair came to a stop beside me. I had never seen her before, so I assumed that she was in a lower grade than I was. Throwing her a fleeting glance I continued assembling the necessary materials for my morning classes.

My concentration was broken when the unnamed girl began repeatedly smacking the gum in her mouth. With each obnoxiously loud chew, I felt my annoyance to her presence escalate as she continued to lean against the locker beside mine.

When I had finished assembling my materials, I slammed my locker shut. The sound resonated throughout the cluttered hall leaving a significant halt in previous conversations.

I was thoroughly aware of the attention I had placed upon myself, but I brushed aside the prickling of my skin from there curious stares.

“What is it that you want?” I questioned, annoyed and completely uninterested in holding a conversation.

“How does it feel?” she cryptically asked, successfully increasing my annoyance towards her.

“How does what feel?” I questioned, irritated. My patience with this girl was wearing thin, and the first bell was due to be rung any time now.

“To be publicly humiliated”

“Are you even kidding me right now?” I questioned, beyond aggravated. Being forced to return to school had already dampened my mood, and I was well aware that I had a lot of work to catch up on.

She perched a messily painted hand on her hip and continued smacking her chewing gum, impatiently awaiting an answer to her question.

“Listen, standing around talking to a prepubescent teen is not on my priority list. Go find something better to do with your time, will ya” I flashed her a falsely sweet smile and walked in the direction of my first class, completely giving up on the search for my friends.

****

The first three periods dragged on as my homework load rapidly increased. I had never realized the amount of work that was covered within the span of three days, and was certain that my weekend would be filled to the brim with my missed notes and assignments.

I glanced at the picture of my schedule on my phone, and grimaced for the tenth time for the day.

Periods Four and Five: Literature – Mr Lachey, Room 64

Flashbacks of my last Literature class bombarded me, effectively making the grimace a permanent fixture upon my face. I was on unchartered territory with Mr Lachey, and considering my recent absence, I was also completely unaware of the day’s events.

Despite my listless efforts, I arrived at my designated classroom. Thoughts of skipping briefly flashed through my mind, but I was already on thin ice as it was, and I did not want to give The Headmaster any further reason to alert my parents.

With a defeated sigh, I pushed the uniformed oak door into the classroom and was relieved to see that Mr Lachey was not yet in the classroom. I made my way to my designated seat, and dropped my materials onto my desk. After I had been properly situated into my seat, I noticed a few heads turning my way, including the annoying girl from the hallway, who was sat between Regan and Nicole Collins. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion as I noticed that my favourite pair of twins had abandoned me.

Huh, I thought, turns out she was not a prepubescent teen after all.

I returned her stare in an almost challenging way, and watched as she scowled and resumed her conversation with Regan, much to my pleasure. Considering that I had completely isolated myself from all of my friends during my absence, I was hardly surprised that the twins had found a replacement seat mate.

Smirking to myself, I pulled out my copy of our current reading assignment, and began where we had left off in the last Literature class before our little dispute.

Not long later, Mr Lachey entered, successfully halting all previous conversations. His eyes zeroed in on the book that was carefully held between my hands and a look of satisfaction crossed his face. He gave me a brief nod of acknowledgement before addressing the class, and I took that as a waving white flag.

Literature class was surprisingly gliding by without interruptions, and I was slowly but surely regaining my confidence. With my nose buried into the class’ current novel of prose fiction, I delved into the world of Jane Austen, completely hidden from the scrutinizing whispers of my fellow classmates.

The door to the classroom opened with a bang as the heavy oak carelessly collided with the harsh concrete walls. The sound ricocheted throughout the classroom, effectively breaking my concentration and gaining the attention of everyone in the room.

A plethora of hushed whispers erupted throughout the classroom, threatening to consume me. And in that moment, I wish it had.

I watched with my eyes widened in disbelief, as the intruder sheepishly rubbed his neck and entered the classroom. My heart hammered against my chest, with each violent pump threatening to burst free of its restraints. I sat frozen in my seat as my classmates utilized the distraction to openly chat with their friends.

Maybe it was the sleek and obviously expensive Armani suit that was perfectly tailored to compliment his body, or maybe it was the way his brown almost black hair was neatly polished into a small quiff, but when he confidently sauntered towards Mr Lachey, I nearly fainted.

Not from desire, oh no.

I nearly fainted from the amount of trepidation that was streaming through my veins.

My eyes followed the unnamed stranger’s movements and watched as he ducked his head and conversed with Mr Lachey. I tried to gauge their facial reactions and somewhat interpret the words being exchanged, and I was partially hanging off the edge of my seat as I strained my untrained ears to pick up any piece of their conversation.

And suddenly, I blanched as Mr Lachey glanced my way.

Maybe it was the way his cerulean eyes inquisitively followed Mr Lachey’s line of sight, before widening in recognition. Or maybe it was because the days’ worth of morning stubble had been precisely removed; revealing the perfectly structured angles that met at the curve of his chin, as if the un-kept facial hairs had never existed in the first place.

But the moment his eyes met mine, I blurted, “Pee”

“I have to pee”

With my cheeks reddening in embarrassment from the unwanted attention I had placed upon myself, I got up, haphazardly scooping my belongings into my bag and made my way towards the door, only to be stopped by a strong grip latching onto my arm, much like the one that had pulled me out of the stadium only a day earlier.

“Aren’t you going to ask your teacher’s permission?” he asked authoritatively. He cocked an eyebrow, as if challenging me to answer.

“Umm-uh” I looked to Mr Lachey for support, hoping that he would see the terror and warning in my eyes.

“Miss Holden, do you think that you could uh- hold it?” Mr Lachey fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable from my sudden outburst. “It turns out that the PA system is down, and we’ve been summoned to The Headmaster’s office”

“What- Why?”

“Just to clear up some loose ends regarding your little-” the stranger paused, glancing at Mr Lachey, “dispute, during school hours with a faculty member”

I swallowed, eyes frantic and wild, completely unprepared to face both The Headmaster and the maniac that had nearly taken my life, for the second time.

****

// author's note:

Chapter Five, dedicated to @daintyalice because she's wonderful and so are her works (so check her out)

[Picture of 'that maniac that nearly killed Georgia and Winnie that time at the stadium #nochill']

oh & also the cast has been updated, this is the final list okay (i think)

Thank you guys so much, because TGR has achieved THREE things for the month of April and they are:

100+ votes

200+ comments

1K+ reads

YOU ARE ALL SO LOVELY. THANK YOU, EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU- YOU ARE ALL WONDERFUL TO ME. i hope you continue to enjoy Georgia's journey as i do writing it x

As always, your support, questions and critiques are always appreciated and welcome :)

(oh, and please refer to my message board with regards to future updates.)