Chapter 2
(Three months later)
School had started up again, and though I begged my aunt not to make me go, I was still going. I gave my aunt a quick kiss on the cheek, then walked out the door of our new house, that we had bought only three months before, and headed towards Bingham High School.
As I drove, I thought about my dad and asked myself a billion questions. "Why did mom marry such a drunk idiot?", and "Why does he have to be so drunk?", and "Why couldn't he have killed me?"
I finally pulled into an available parking spot and stepped out of my parking spot. As I began to enter the building, I heard someone shout, "Watch out!" I looked over my shoulder just in time to see a blonde-haired guy knock into me. "Can't you hear, girl?" he asked, standing up.
"Oh, I can hear," I said standing up. "I believe you can't see!"
A loud "Ohhhh!" ran through my future classmates. "Did you just insult me!?!" he asked.
"If that's the way you want to look at it, then yes!" I said, staring straight into his eyes.
He stared back at me then turned around. "If you weren't a girl, I'd beat the heck out of you!" he said, over his shoulder, tossing a football to a black haired man. The man tossed it back to him.
"You're just scared that a girl would embarrass you by beating you up!" I said, crossing my arms across my chest.
This caught his attention. Slowly, he turned around. "Do you wanna fight with me?" he asked a bit surprised.
"If that'll teach you to watch where you're going and to not judge people by their gender." I watched as he handed the football, which he had in his hands, to a girl with black hair. "So, are you ready to learn your lesson?"
He laughed. "I believe it is you who will be learning the lesson!" he said.
Shrugging, I said, "Alright!"
We both raised our fists, and were about to bring them down on each other when a bell rang. He looked around then said, "Great! You're gonna make me be late!" he yelled, then grabbed his football and ran into the building. After a few seconds, I followed the rest of the crowd and walked into my real school.
* * * * *
"If you mix Substance A and Substance Z together, what would you get?" Mr. Thompson, my science teacher, was asking the class. The room remained silent. "Mr. Thrive?" That was the name of the blonde-haired boy, Mr. Matt Thrive.
His face was fire engine red. "Um. . . er. . ." I could barely keep back the laughter. Just then, the bell rang, saving Matt from his embarrassment.
"Class dismissed!" Mr. Thompson announced.
Sighing a breath of relief, I gathered my books, handed my teacher a paper, and exited out the door. As I started to make my way to my locker, I could hear the footsteps of someone behind me.
I made it to my locker, and opened it. As I reached in to retrieve my pack, I quickly removed my hand as the door was shut. "Oops! Sorry!" a sarcastic voice said.
Glaring at Matt, I said, "Why don't you get a life?"
"You just may be the one who needs to look for a life after I take yours away!" he exclaimed, knocking the books out of my hand.
"Bring. . . It. . . On!" I said through clenched teeth. Once again, our hands were closed in fists, and we were about to strike. "You know, I'm not sure why you'd want your pretty little face to become ugly." I paused, smiling. "Oh wait, I forgot that your face is already ugly!"
We raised our fists and were about to bring them down on each other when a voice interrupted us. "Break it up!" Turning around, I saw a man with light-brown hair that was bleached on top.
"Or what!?!" Matt challenged.
"Or you'll have to beat all of us up before you get to her!" a man with curly, blonde hair said stepping infront of me. Just then, four other men, including the light-brown haired one, did the same.
Matt looked at each of the men, then looked back at me. "This isn't over!" he said, turning around. Rolling my eyes, I knelt down to retrieve my books when Matt said something else. "Call me sometime when you don't have a man watching out for you. That way, I can beat you to a pulp!"
That was IT! I said to myself. I stood up and was about to run after him, when one of the guys, with dark brown hair, grabbed me. "Just let him go!" he ordered me. I ignored him, and tried to release myself from his grasp. "It's not worth it!"
Seeing that this man wasn't going to give in, I relaxed and looked down at the ground. After he saw that I had given up, he let me go and I knelt down and began to pick up my books. "Let me help you," the one with curly hair said, kneeling down beside me. I shoved him backwards, and stood up.
As I began to walk away, the same man, with the dark-brown hair, grabbed me. "I think you owe my friend an apology." I looked up at his blue eyes.
"You stand mistaken," I said. "Your friends and you owe me an apology!"
"For what?" a man with a mustache asked. "For trying to help you!?!"
"I don't need your help!" I exclaimed.
"Well, I don't know if anyone can give you the help you need!" a man with spiky brown hair laughed. I lunged for him, but the dark haired man still held me. "Jeez, didn't your mother ever teach you respect for your elders?"
Tears came to my eyes and I looked down at the floor. "Let me go, please!" I whispered, and the man, who had held me captive, released me and I ran.
As I was turning the corner, I could hear them talking to one another. "Why'd you make her cry like that, Chris?" A few tears escaped my eyes and ran down my cheek.
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