played over in her mind what was likely to transpire: she projected that at first Albert would be rejected, and then later Naomi would experience a change of heart, and accept his invitation. As sheâd often witnessed, this was par for the course.
Naomi frowned at him. âIâm not sure Albie, perhaps when your mental maturity meets the date your licence suspension is lifted. I vaguely remember you telling me it was on the twelfth?â
Following on from Naomiâs response, she remembered being told that during the last evening the pair spent together, Albert had totalled his truck and was escorted off in the back of a police car. As far as she was concerned, this too seemed a regular occurrence, and further begged the question as to why Naomi continued to put up with his antics.
âCute, youâll change your tune when you see my new wheels,â Albert had said, before rushing after his teammates.
Her gaze lingered upon Albert as he approached Justin, deliberately nudging him to one side, before he engaged Sadie and her group of friends with vulgar banter.
âMy Albie may be easy on the eyesâ¦but there is precious little between his ears,â Naomi said through a scowl.
The bell had finally rung, and the two girls slowly trudged off to class. History was first up, something that Katherine could not find herself less enthused. She believed there was little need to learn history as it belonged in the past, and had no real bearing upon the present. She believed this was particularly true with respect to their current module of study: the histories and origins of the ancient world.
Once she entered the classroom, she quickly looked toward the back for a free seat. Having claimed one of the few that remained, she decided to delve within the depths of her sketching pad.
The history teacher soon after arrived, and surprisingly later than usual, but immediately commenced the lesson once sheâd found a piece of chalk.
âMs Hawthorne, might I remind you that I have to leave at a momentâs noticeâ¦as we discussed earlier,â said a young man toward the front of the class.
âYes Mr Mathieson, I hadnât forgotten,â Ms Hawthorne replied, whilst writing on the blackboard. âNow, may I proceed with my lesson?â
While glancing up from her sketching pad, Katherine scrutinised the back of the young manâs head as if she were trying to pierce open his skull. Blake Mathieson was someone that both she and her father knew all too well, and she had often wished that it wasnât so. She saw him as the direct antithesis of Justin Ellis: where Justin was tall, fair, and sociable, Blake Mathieson was short, dark featured, and an introvert.
She wasnât particularly fond of Ms Hawthorne either; although this was mainly because sheâd often find herself singled out as the one not concentrating in class. It didnât help when Naomi would often tease her over some very obvious similarities she shared with Ms Hawthorne. Physically, they were both tall, and slender, with blue eyes and long black hair. But what really bothered her, was how her father would frequently liken her to Ms Hawthorne when voicing his opinion over their supposed stubbornness.
Rather than waste any further attention on Blake, or upon Ms Hawthorneâs lesson for that matter, Katherine drew in her sketching pad. She drew very carefully the arch of a wing, and took the time to perfectly shape a sharp beak toward the front of a feathered head. But her pencil swiftly slid along the page and ruined her efforts, for the classroom floor had suddenly started to shake. Columns of books fell from off the shelves, the contents of a few desktops crashed to the floor, and a number of unoccupied chairs rattled across the classroom. In an organised fashion, the students quickly dove beneath their desks upon the first sign of the tremor, and she looked on as Ms Hawthorne braced herself between her desk
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