Finding Sloane Winters Crazy

Kayla Cecilia Mac Robertson
Glastonbury College for Girls
Unofficial Beauty and Fashion Advisor
Student No# 13829

Rain like teardrops, running into the comfort of shelter, I huff angrily, hands moving to rake through my now frizzy hair.

Sarah says breathlessly beside me, “There’s Sloane,” she points a finger over to underneath the big oak tree, where two tall figures were. They’re both wet, hair damp, but the big branches are keeping most of the rain away. “She’s with that guy again.”

Sarah’s got a guilty look on her face, guilty that she was so wrapped in her own life, that she didn’t even bother to learn the name of what Sloane’s life now revolves around.

Teak, Teak, Teak.

“Are they… you know, like together now?” Is Sarah’s hesitant question, as if she’s afraid that I might scoff at her, saying ‘Well duh, it’s totally obvious.’

I look over to them, it doesn’t look like it. She’s lying down on the partially wet ground, half a metre away from his knee- he’s sitting cross-legged. They’re talking quietly, Sloane says something, but I can’t see how she’s saying it, I can’t see her face from here, but her response is a hard look from him, lips pursed and his grey eyes slightly narrowed, they’re saying, ‘I’m not going to talk about it.’ His fists clench, and he looks away.

“No,” I answer immediately, “They can’t be, they couldn’t. I won’t let that happen.”

“Why not?” Sarah asks, munching on her packet of salt and vinegar chips, her face is incredulous, “I know I haven’t really been paying attention lately, but I’m not stupid. Even I can tell that he makes her happy.”

I’m about to say ‘exactly’, but I close my mouth. I don’t answer, look down at my nails instead.
“Do you really want her to be as emo as she was before for her whole life?”

I scoff, looking up, “She wasn’t emo, it’s just her nails, not a blade or anything.”

“Answer the question Kay.”

I look down at my shoes now, in a quiet voice, “No, of course not.”

Sarah smiles, “Then just leave it alone, okay?” She looks back at tem, but her eyes catch something.

Or rather someone.

It’s Bess. She’s staring at us, a sad look gracing her adorably cute baby face. It’s been so awkward at her house. Bess being sick of Sarah's wild ways and therefore avoiding her, leading to avoid us. She’s with Riley most of the time, and he’s either oblivious to the tension in the air, or ignoring it. But he’s not with her now, he’s most likely in detention.

When she notices us staring at her, her eyes snap back to her textbooks and she continues talking to Fleur Moreau, the snobby school captain, but her eyes also travel towards the tall girl lying underneath the oak tree, and mines does too.

There are now a bunch of soaked year nine girls standing in front of them, blushing and giggling as they talk to Teak. Sloane is looking straight up at the sky, and it looks like she’s in her own world, but there’s the crease in between her brow, there’s the acknowledgement in her tightened lips, that tells you that she’s listening.

Teak knows this too, his own lips quirk slightly at the girls for the smallest of a minute, sending the girls into another burst of silent giggles. His hand—the one closest to Sloane-- go towards his black hair, running through it, and falling back down again. I see it brush Sloane’s own hand, her eyes move from the sky towards him, with an intense stare, narrowed slightly.

Teak only stares at her, his brows lifting slightly.

Sarah’s still looking at Bess, “Oh, um, it’s Bess.”

I’m snapped back to my own thoughts, and I look in the direction Sarah’s facing, Bess is walking towards Riley, almost desperately. “Oh, yeah. There’s Riley too.”

But I’m not looking at them anymore, I’m looking at Teak and Sloane, grimacing.

I am a student of not only fashion, but love.

And that look they shared—

Do you know what it is?