kind regards | womanxgirl |

fifteen | school thoughts

"You didn't come back to school." Ms Valentine hissed on the other side of the phone.

Back to her sarcastic remarks, Ivy had replied. "That's the point in the term 'ditching', no?"

"Ivy." The teacher warned, her eyes rolling from Ivy's lack of maturity. "I was worried about you."

"You were the one who brought it up, remember?" The blonde tsked as she walked with Luca along the rooftops of which they knew as Julia's bar. "I was fine, Blake. Really."

"Like I'm supposed to believe that." Blake scoffed humourlessly, intrusive thoughts invading her mind as she traced back and forth in her suite. "I've literally caught you smoking weed with Luca in the janitor's closet."

"Now that was a one-time thing, besides-" Ivy defended as she smiled. "-We have a better hiding place now."

"Ivy." Blake repeated, voice laced with venom. "You're not helping."

"I'm surprised you cared anyway." Ivy thought aloud, feet kicking the nearest puddle of water near the school gates. "Never pegged you for the type."

Blake scoffed. "You assume the worst of me, Ivy."

"That's rich coming from you." Ivy retorted, eyes drawn to the sunset in front of her, not one cloud in the sky for it to be blocked. "I'm the one smoking weed."

"Again, not helping." The teacher huffed helplessly.

Before answering, there was a shift in attitude for Ivy. Her thoughts were different as she finally understood the boundaries in her newfound relationship. No longer needing to deflect every ounce of care for herself with isolation and humour, she could finally accept that feeling she somewhat craved for, even if she didn't realise it.

"I like this." She whispered into the phone, one of her hands clutching a building edge for support. 

Confused, Blake answered. "Us arguing?"

Chuckling, Ivy corrected her lover. "You caring for me. It's reassuring."

Though there was silence, Ivy could tell Blake was smiling, after all, it took less effort to make her smile if she had just tried to show some sort of emotion to Blake. She knew she wasn't experienced in these types of situations, but she could always learn how to love Blake the right way.

• • • • • •

After the very needed phone call, Ivy hung around the school grounds, reminiscing her freshman phase and all its entirety. She walked the now deserted halls, humming a rhythm of a song she remembered her father would always sing to help her sleep after the continuous arguing she had heard between her parents.

Her hands skimmed the trophies encased in the slightly tinted glass, leaving a faint mark on her finger from the dust. She smiled as she came across her locker, which now instead of storing her books like other students, she had stored the various types of items she'd use to leave her 'mark' on the walls, bathroom stalls and even on classroom boards.

Of course, this was a risky business but she never cared about the consequences, whether or not she would be able to be caught in the first place. After the talk with Luca, she had invited her over to vandalise the school premise for old times sake, however, she had declined the offer nicely after she realised she was late to a tutoring lesson.

Ever since she stole a janitor's keys back when she was a sophomore, she had made constant nightly visits to school when she was at the peak of discovering herself and the mischief she could do when the clock had struck 8pm.

She had smiled as she grabbed the nearest can and began walking to the classrooms, spraying whatever message she had in mind and moving on to another close-by room. Making her mark was always something she adored to do, it was something she could leave after she would leave the shithole of a school.

Up until now, she never smiled like she used to back when her family were all together, not since she learned the truth about her parents' weekly quarrel. After moving away with her sister, she grew to be the person she wanted to stray from, a person her father surely wouldn't be proud of, nonetheless her mother.

With her parents already divorced before she and Julia had moved, it was the last string needed to make her realise that life wouldn't always be so positive for her, and she had to learn it at such a young age that she had lost her purity all in that moment of truth.

Believe it or not, she wasn't disappointed in herself, not one bit. Though she knew she didn't want to mature so soon, she knew it was a task that was needed to be done if she wanted to support Julia, physically and financially.

Then on, she had cut off communicating with her mother, but her father, it was hard to say goodbye to him. She knew none of it was his fault, though she still had to make the big decision to somewhat lose communication with him, except the very rare times she's in distress and needs her old man in figuring out her problems.

With Ivy away from her parents, and being raised by her older sister, she knew that her freedom was at the cost of her behaviour and sometimes money when things hit rock bottom. She came to terms that not always she had to be perfect, but just until they could get things afloat for themselves. 

And when they did, she felt some of the freedom she needed as a teenager, the freedom that always costed her. Despite the occasional face-to-face interviews with the principal when caught drinking, Julia knew that Ivy would grow up like her, and she didn't mind it.

Time passed quite quickly as she painted the walls a faded green colour, remarking quotes of books she had been forced to read for assignments and calling out the teachers she hated for the past few years she had attended this school.

With her can barely functioning, she stepped back from the wall she had sprayed with quotes and remarks on her mind, smiling at the big 'fuck you' in the middle of the now graffitied wall.

Her eyes roamed the halls, stopping at a figure that she barely recognised from a distance.

"Ah, Ms Valentine. Is that you?" She called out, her eyes squinting at the nearing figure.

There was no response as the body moved closer to Ivy in the hallway, she showed no fear or any sign of nervousness. "Ms Valentine?"

"Principal Davis, actually."