Claimed by My One Time Crush

Mackenzie’s POV Ten Years Ago I check the deserted hallways around me nervously, ears straining for any faint sound that will tell me that someone is approaching. All I can hear is the distant sound of the cleaner’s polishing machine in the gym and I suck in a deep breath before stepping out of the shadows and hurrying toward locker number two one seven. Pulling out a folded piece of pink paper from my backpack, I press it to my chest, closing my eyes for a split second before opening them again and reaching up to the slits cut into the tall grey locker. Giving one last furtive look around me, I push the note through the thin hole in the door and turn away, rushing down the corridor as fast as my feet can carry me. Once I round the corner at the end of the hallway, I lean my back against the wall and blow out a breath, my heart rate slowing down again. I did it, I summoned up all my courage and I actually did it, this is going to happen. In my pocket, I hear the familiar beep of a text message, and fishing out my phone, I flip open the screen to see the name Megan Carris flash up. I groan softly as I open the text from our student body president and the person who makes my life miserable. ‘Have you written my speech yet? I have to give it today in second period’ the message demands. No Hi, no how are you, no thanks for doing all the work as the student body secretary whilst I take all the glory because the elections are just one big popularity contest. I grit my teeth, my fingers tightening around the cell phone, I wanted to join the student body council because I actually wanted to make a difference, help my peers, bring about some change to better the lives of the students around me. Of course, as a nobody, merely here to suffer at the hands and words of others, my attempts to win were futile. Instead, I got secretary, because no one else wants to be the popular kid winner’s dogs’ body for the year. I’m pretty sure that I was set up, and one if not more of my bullies stuffed the ballot box with my name, no doubt laughing like buffoons whilst they did it because what is more funny than making the freshman you terrorise the workhorse of a popular sophomore. Forcing my fingers to relax, I type back an affirmative before pocketing the phone again and heading toward the tiny office that I share with Megan and her best friend Cecile, our vice president. I roll my eyes at the thought, Cecile can barely spell her own name and understands politics about as much as she understands car mechanics, like I said, popularity contest. Heading to the wobbly desk in the corner that is my work area, I reach over and turn on my computer so I can finish up printing off the posters for the upcoming rally. I want to get done quickly, it’s already nearly eight o’clock, the other students will be arriving soon. Pulling up the flyer, I press print, starting the machine rolling before bringing up Megan’s speech. As the secretary to the student body president, it seems it’s my job to do anything and everything that Miss popularity deems beneath her, so in other words, everything to do with her job. It also somehow has included the speech she has to give in her politics class that was set as last week’s homework. This is how it works in this school; the popular kids are president and the nobody’s are the minions who do all the work for them. Normally I’d be swearing under my breath through the whole workload, but not today, today I can’t keep the smile from my face, because today I took a chance. For weeks I’ve been sneaking notes into locker two one seven, hiding in the shadows as the sixteen year old owner would find them each morning, reading them before tucking them onto the shelf and grabbing his books. My heart soared each time he did so, he didn’t throw them away, he kept them, that means he likes them, likes the person who wrote them, likes me. Today, I’d finally worked up the courage and asked him out, invited him to meet me at the carnival tonight. It may be a bit cliché, but I’d told him to meet me by the ticket entrance, and that I’d be holding a red rose, so he’d know it was me. As the sound of students fills the halls, I gather up all the fliers, and Megan’s speech, hurrying out of the office and down the hall again, meeting Megan at her locker and thrusting it all into her hands. I don’t even wait for her to make a scathing remark to me, sprinting away and back through the hallways, skidding to a stop just as the boy I’ve been crushing on hard since the beginning of the year opens his locker. I’d fell in love the day I saw him stand up to a group of Juniors who were picking on a scrawny freshman outside of the school gates. He’d grabbed the ringleader, and punched him hard, knocking him to the floor, before yelling that he’d beat his ass if he saw the guy messing with the newbies again. I had realised then, that this guy, he was a saviour, he didn’t look down on smaller kids or act like a jerk, he was a great guy. If he was my boyfriend, I wouldn’t have to worry about my own bullies because he’d protect me, no one would pick on me again. I hold my breath as he picks up the note that landed on top of his gym bag, opening it slowly and reading it. He takes his time, reading it a second time, I can see the flicker of his eyes as they scan the words before he carefully folds it again and places it with the others on the top shelf. Holding in a scream, I turn on my heel, hurrying to my first lesson, a huge smile on my face, nothing can ruin today, nothing! I sit impatiently through my lessons, not even flinching when the group of boys behind me start throwing bits of paper at me. I just want today to be over, I need to get ready for my very first date. When the last bell sounds, I shove back my chair, throwing my things into my bag and swinging it over my shoulder, dashing out the door before half the class have even started to rise from their seats. I run all the way home, barrelling through the door of my grandparents shop, gasping for breath as I lean over one of the chairs. ‘Kenzie’ my grandmother admonishes, walking around the counter that has the remainder of the rolls my grandfather baked this morning and cakes prepared lovingly by my grandmother, heading toward me. ‘What are you running for? Your face is all red’ she tells me, taking my hand and leading me into the back of the shop as I try to catch my breath. ‘Got . . to get . . ready . . Mimi’ I manage to gasp out, ‘carnival . .’ My grandmother smile widens, ‘oh you decided to go? I’m so pleased’ she tells me affectionately, ‘you need to go, interact with others more.’ I nod, I live with my grandparents, Mimi and Pops, above their bakery, they have cared for me since I was born. My mother had me at sixteen after getting drunk at a party and having a bit too much fun. My grandparents were upset, but they didn’t want her to get an abortion, promised to help her so she could continue high school and graduate. When my mother finished school, she decided that she needed a gap year, to find herself or something, left me with my grandparents and left. Her gap year turned into many years and I was ten before she came back into my life. She turned up with a kid in her arms, my half-brother, who I’ve since met twice. He’s six years younger than me, and unlike me, mom kept him. They live across the country, with some guy she met and married when Luke was six. She comes to visit me occasionally, texts me and calls, but it’s more of a sibling relationship than a mom and daughter one. It is what it is, and I accept it, I love my mum and I like to think that she loves me in her own way, I’m just better off with my grandparents. Releasing me, my grandmother pats my cheek, ‘you will have fun’ she tells me warmly, ‘you’ll see. Now go get ready, but be quiet, I think Pops is taking a nap so try not to wake him.’ I nod, heading toward the stairs that lead to our two bedroom flat, my grandfather is up at four am every morning to bake the loaves for the day. He takes an afternoon nap so he can stay up and have dinner with us, help me with my homework and have family time. I love Pops and Mimi, they sacrifice so much for me, I am blessed to have been given to them. I take the stairs two at a time, halting in front of our door and forcing myself to open it slowly, taking great care not to let it slam against the wall. Stepping inside, the familiar scent of cookies and my grandmother’s perfume hits me, making me smile. I wander into the kitchen, grabbing two of the cookies off the plate on the table. I don’t think I’ve ever come home to no snacks waiting for me. Munching them happily, I walk into my room, dropping my bag onto my bed and heading into my closet to find something to wear. Stripping off my school uniform, I chuck it into my wash basket and start going through my clothes. Should I wear a dress? Leggings? Jeans? I wrinkle my nose as I glance down at my body, trying to suck in my stomach that isn’t as flat as other girls. Mimi always tells me that I’m beautiful, that I haven’t bloomed yet, every girl has a growth spurt and that there is nothing wrong with me. I’m well aware that I’m bigger than other girls though, I want to be skinny like them, maybe then boys would look at me like they look at the cheerleaders . . I shake my head firmly, no, he won’t care that I have a bit of a tummy, he’s not like that. Maybe he likes curvy girls? I smile at that thought, I bet he does, he’s not shallow like the other boys at our school. I decide on a dress, pulling a white one with tiny blue flowers off the hanger and over my head. Next, I brush my hair, pinning it up in a bow, before adding some lip gloss to my lips. Checking my reflection, I rub my hands over my exposed arms, glancing at the sleeveless bodice of the dress until my anxiety gets the best of me and I grab a cardigan, tugging it on quickly. Blowing out a breath, I check my teeth and decide to brush them, I don’t want bad breath! What if he kisses me? My first kiss! One last peek in the mirror, I push up the bright pink frames on my face, and I’m ready to go, I check my watch, it’s four thirty, I put on the note that I’d be waiting outside at half past five. Heading out of my room, I snag my purse from the small table beside my door and make my way downstairs.