By Helen Mylona

I’m cold out here. I feel like shivering.

I’m waiting outside the gym, in the school yard. It’s raining and maybe there is a little haze. I’m not sure.

We have nearly an hour for lessons to start.

I always come here much earlier because I find peace. I wanna get some energy and peaceful free time alone before school gets crowded again.

I hold the case of my Bluetooth earbuds tightly because of the cold. It nearly breaks.

I scratch my nails nervously causing the cheap black nail polish I found in the closet this morning to peel off. My phone is also dead, so I can’t even scroll down my messages. Probably the ones from my mother. Every time I leave so early, she texts me and calls me because she knows I can’t stand the situation going on at home. I can’t talk to her, I can’t look at her, I can’t even stand myself there. I feel like the old walls trap me in between them, wanting to strangle me.

Cracking sounds and footfalls catch my attention, and I turn around seeing that one person I never expected to see here at this time. The one I hate so much that makes me forget my problems immediately. The one that’s so rich and spoilt thinking she owns the whole school and makes me wanna punch her beautiful face. No bruises, no wrinkles, no mascara ruined. Ever. Not a single sign of passing time on her. Absolute perfection. Sometimes I’m jealous of that, but there’s nothing more to be jealous of, other than a pretty young face and a stunning soft body.

Her dark hair is tied up in a strict ponytail. She’s like that only on the days when we have gymnastics. All the other days she lets her straight long hair cover her back. She fixes the characteristic black ribbon she always wears on her Chanel vest. It’s her sign of power. Like she’s the queen in the kingdom called high school.

I’m not sure if she has noticed me, until she does. She gets closer to the bench I’m sitting on, and I can clearly see the smirk on her face. I stand up facing her.

We’re not talking. Just looking at each other. The tension makes my heart skip a beat and my blood rush into my whole body.

It’s her. My bully. My torture. A diva. The upcoming prom queen. A kind face with a cruel heart. The person that makes my heart burn into flames. The place I’ll always come back to. Her