I Can't Help It

It's been two long weeks since the road traffic accident which injured several of the students from St. OHSIBTY School, and life is still far from getting back on track. Delilah isn't impressed with the gash on her face, and receives a lot more than teasing from her friends. Sam is struggling to deal with her miscarriage, and only Tom can help her, yet the aftermath of the accident has affected him to. Meanwhile, Ellie is far from impressed when the story of the crash turns up in the school newspaper, and decides to confront the school's journalist.

Our High School is Better Than Yours! Season 1, Episode 9: "I Can't Help It"
A depressing, languid atmosphere hung over the desolate hallways of St. OHSIBTY School, effectively sucking the vibrant colours and life from the now-bleak classrooms and their demoralized students. The sounds of laughter had seemingly been eliminated, as well as grins and smiles. It was as if the pupils were zombies, staggering around after lessons, bored and depressed.

It had been two long, dragging weeks since the car crash which had landed several of its victims in hospital with agonizing, and rather serious, injuries – and it was the hot topic at the school. Rumours and hushed whispers had spread like wild fire across each room, and it had also infected the school’s internet forums, with a gargantuan amount of the school’s population brewing up their own theories on how the crash was caused – several believed Tyler was drunk, whilst others believed it was a stunt to claim insurance money.

Delilah dragged herself through the school corridor, encompassed by posses of gossiping teenagers, all shooting her suspicious glances and snickering in each other’s ears; she despised the fact that she’d been stupid enough to agree to go on that road trip, she abhorred the reality that her boyfriend was still shooting lovelorn gazes to his ex-girlfriend, but most of all, she loathed the hideous scar which deformed the left side of her face.

The scar had pretty much ruined her life. She couldn’t sleep at night knowing she’d have to appear at school with such an ugly feature – she wasn’t used to being unattractive. She’d always been beautiful, with guys following her around like lost puppies and girls begging her to be their friend, and suddenly she wasn’t. Boys avoided her as if she was toxic (even Joey was keeping his distance) and her once cheerleading friends were now targeting her for their bitchy ways. It’s just a scar, she reassured herself over and over. It’s actually kind of cool – it makes you look badass. But Delilah knew she was lying to herself. That karma had come around and bit her on the ass for being the reason it was possible for Sam to be impregnated.

As Delilah turned another sharp corner, the strap of her bag ploughing deep into her shoulder, her ears pricked up at the sound of schoolgirl giggling; she swivelled round to be met by a group of sophomore cheerleaders, packed tightly together, sniggering uncontrollably.

“Like what you see, bitch?” Delilah snapped at the curvy blonde girl who was obviously the ring leader.

“Oh hell, looks like the mighty have fallen,” the blonde replied with just as much venom, the corners of her gloss-caked lips twisting upwards in an evil grin. “What happened, Scarface? Was it from when you fell from the whore tree and banged every guy on the way down? Or was it an accident when you had more balls in your mouth than Hungry, Hungry Hippos?” The insults were pursued by a large ‘ooh’ sound from the chuckling females, and several of the guys who were passing sniggered in synchronisation. Delilah’s lips curled back from her teeth in a snarl, and a menacing growling noise ripped from her throat; the blonde girl stumbled back a few steps, but kept her confident posture and sarcastic smile. She opened her mouth to speak again. “You know, I’m not saying you’re a slut – just addressing the fact that you’ve been banged more times than the snooze button on a Monday morning. A relationship doesn’t stop a hoe from being a hoe; tell your boyfriend I’ll be round later.”

That did it for Delilah, and she sprung at the girl with unstoppable speed; the blonde flew backwards into the lockers, the gut-churning sound rippling through the hallways and alerting every living creature that a fight was taking place. The blonde winced in agony, her hand clutching the back of her head which had made contact with the metal doors, and gasped when she saw blood swimming down her neck. “Not so clever now, are you, bitch?” spat Delilah, and delivered a forceful kick in the ribs to the blonde girl who rolled round in agony on the cold floor. By now, a colossal crowd had gathered for the entertainment.

Tom dully stumbled through the hallway, his eyes fixated in front of him, a gloomy atmosphere encompassing him as he walked. The news of Sam’s miscarriage still haunted him, followed him wherever he went, and kept him up every single dragging night until he was falling asleep at his desk and being sent to detention. His multiple calls and texts and Skypes to Sam remained unanswered, and he hadn’t seen her sweep the hallways ever since school started again. He didn’t miss her, he just missed his child – his unborn child, whom he had never seen, but he loved with all his heart.

“Tom!” he heard the distant sound of his best friend Ellie approaching him, and he groaned, trying to block out the noise. “Hey, where have you been all week? You won’t answer my Skypes, even when it says you’re... online...” Ellie tossed her brunette locks behind her shoulder, and frowned. “Are you alright?” “What do you think?” he growled, and brushed past her rudely, looking down in anguish. “My child is dead, Ellie. That stupid car crash killed my baby. How do you think I feel?”

“I’m sorry, Tom,” whispered Ellie, taken aback at the anger in his voice.

"No... no, I'm sorry, Ellie, I shouldn't have snapped," stated Tom, his speech muffled with his head in his hands and his head ringing.

"Listen, maybe you should go visit the school nurse or the guidance counsular - get this sorted out," suggested Ellie, but Tom immediately backed away, shaking his head.

"No. No. No, Ellie, I can't! I can't tell them!" he spluttered, eyes widened.

"Why not?" she enquired, confused.

"Because then they'll know! And they'll tell my parents and Sam's parents and then we are done for!" he snapped, suddenly grabbing Ellie by her bony shoulders and shaking her violently. His stomach flipped when he saw the look of fear glistening in her eyes; he let go and stormed down the gloomy corridor, leaving behind his shaking best friend.

Emmett weaved through the crowd of chattering students, the camera heavy around his skinny neck, a stack of curled newspapers stuffed in the small over-shoulder bag which rested on his gaunt shoulder. The pupils around him gasped and tittered and widened their eyes as their brains absorbed every printed word informing then about the crash which had landed several kids in hospital. Newspapers lay littered across the polished floor, with many dumb people slipping on them, all screaming news of the accident, adorned by a photo of the battered Jeep.

"Oi, nerd!" the sound of a harsh female's voice alerted him and his swivelled round to see a brunette freshman storming towards her, eyebrows knitted together in pure anger. A violet bruise deformed her forehead. ''Oh god... she was in the crash.''

"What?" he asked a little too innocently.

"Don't give me the innocent look! What the hell were you thinking?!" she snarled, placing her hands on his chest and harshly shoving back, unbalancing him. "Putting the crash in the newspaper?! What sort of idiot are you?!"

"It's school news," he spoke pleadingly, his voice thick and quiet.

"No, it's private news! One guy almost lost his arm in that crash, and you're making f*cking jokes?! You weren't even there, you b*stard - you didn't know how much it hurt!"

"Yeah, and that guy got expelled because his little brother grassed him up for snogging that fit teacher and f*cking his physiotherapist," muttered Emmett, scooping up the newspapers which had tumbled from his bag, when he felt a hand slug against his cheek; he fell against the floor once more, his breathing fast.

"You either take this issue down or I tell everyone that that physiotherapist was your mom. And trust me, they'll believe me!"

The emptiness of her womb was the only thing Sam could focus on; she sat leaning against the lockers, eyes rimmed with black after her lack of sleep, arms locked around her stomach protectively even though she knew her baby was dead and gone. It had kept her up night after night, sobbing hysterically into her damp pillow, curled up in the fetal position whilst grieving painfully.

It's gone, thought Sam as her eyes once again welled up. ''My child's gone. My baby. My child. My creation. All because of some stupid accident.''

"Sammy," even the sweet sound of her best friend's voice couldn't comfort her anymore. "Listen, sweetheart, I know it's a tragedy, but you need to get up and walking again. You're making it worse by staying still all the time. You aren't sleeping or eating - you're gonna end up killing yourself."

"I don't care," hissed Sam, her eyes staying fixated to her stomach.

"Well, you should! Come on, get up and I'll take you home." Delilah slipped her slender arm around Sam's waist, yet the blonde battered it away.

"I don't need to go home. I need to go. Away from here. Away from this town," whispered Sam, hyperventilating. Finally she turned her head to stare into her friend's large, sparkling eyes. "Delilah, I'm leaving. I'm getting out of here. I need a new start. I'm running away."

THE END