Karma's a Bitch* #11

Shamma’s P.O.V

The moment I walked into the large door, I felt the burden of a hundred eyes on me. I felt like I was in one of those cheesy teen movies, walking in slow motion through the halls while everyone turned to gawk at me, a look of pity plastered on all those faces. The fact that it was still the first day of university didn’t help at all. I felt my stomach turn and my breakfast quickly crawling its way up.

I slammed my hand against my mouth and made a run for the girl’s bathroom. Once I got there, I entered the nearest available stall and threw myself into it. Dropping limply next to the toilet, I threw up.

I breathed heavily, my head still hovering over the toilet as I waited for the next wave of nausea to take over. I stayed there for a few minutes, waiting for everyone to clear out of the restroom. The ringing of the bell sounded and I imagined having to face all those people again.

By now, the few students that hadn’t been at the club to witness my total humiliation had already heard of all the details.

“God, I hate my life,” I exhaled noisily as I banged my head against the door before standing up.

Slowly, I turned the tap and let the water run for a while before splashing my face with the crystal liquid. I looked up at the mirror to see my pathetic expression staring back at me as I reapplied my makeup. I shook my head and closed my eyes for a second, searching for the courage to leave that bathroom.

“Let the drama begin,” I mumbled pushing the door open and walking down the hall.

“Why if it isn’t the spoiled little rich brat?!”

I felt the pain in my belly increase at the sound of the familiar voice. I stopped dead in my tracks, but never turned to face him, instead I waited for him to stand in front of me.

“Late for class are we? Now, what would everyone think of that, Shamsa?” he mocked with fake concern in his voice.

“It’s Shamma! What do you want, blondie?” I hissed at him.

“Me? Nothing. Just being polite,” he answered with a cocky grin.

“You? polite? ha!” I laughed forcibly as I restarted walking.

He followed me, “so, what are you doing out of class?”

I stopped and turned to face him with a frown.

‘Does he seriously have no idea?’ I thought to myself as I saw him shove his hands into the pockets of his hoodie waiting for an answer.

“Why don’t you ask your skanky girlfriend?” I shot back.

“Hey! Don’t call Chloe that!” he said as anger flashed in his eyes.

“Why? That’s what you call people who go around making out with someone who isn’t their boyfriend,” I said as I looked straight into his eyes.

“3an shu ttkalmain?” he hissed back.

“Atkalam 3an your girlfriend and Khalifa having a major make out session in front of everyone at some club on Saturday,” I talked quickly as the images of that evening flashed before my eyes and I could feel my blood boil.

Suddenly, his hands were on my arms and I felt my back slam against the lockers. He glared at me, teeth clenched tightly. “You better take that back,” he hissed angrily.

I swallowed hard as I tried to calm my racing heartbeat. “It’s true,” I said, the words coming out in a flood of anger.

“You’re lying!” he accused me.

“Apparently, you didn’t know your sweet girlfriend has been going out with Khalifa,” I said.

He closed his eyes for a second as he tried to get his nerves under control and stop himself from doing anything he’d regret later.

“You don’t believe me? Go ask your girlfriend,” I said as I gathered my courage, grabbed his hands and forced him to let go of my arm, “now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got classes to go to.” And with that I turned around and quickly made my way to class.

‘He doesn’t know?’ was the tune that kept replaying in my head the whole time.