Love Bunny

Chapter 1: I Wonder

Naïve, fool, crazy, weird, hormonal teenager and many other names I've been given and made fun of...

When I was a child, I was pretty good at ignoring all of those stuff that I've been told and called. I just didn't care, because I always thought life was sweet and everyone has a happy ending like any Disney movie I have watched.

But little did I know, that everyone whoever takes a look at me thinks of me as a girl who doesn't have a future and it will be gloomy as hell.

I remember back when I was at kindergarten, I tried to make conversations and build good friendships with my fellow mates, but all they did was making a stupid face at me then they run away... away from me. I really didn't mind that much that time because, still, I got that mindset.

Soon I realized that those gestures weren't really as friendly as I thought they were back then.

But when I started middle school, I had found my only and one best friend, Sharon. We always acted like twins; laughing all the time, breaking the rules, goofing around others and getting punished for it too... we used to be make stupid stuff together. Together, we blocked every insult and snide remarks we got... well... I got.

Sadly, after a couple of years, my grandma passed away and my mother was in deep grief and sadness. So my parents and I had to move to our next home county, England. I really cried so much because I didn't want to leave Sharon, my small house, the hateful people and generally the place where I was born and raised, Ethiopia.

Once we traveled to England, things wasn't that much changed. People call me a weirdo, like literally, since what I do speak it clearly, but it was... manageable.

After not even that much time in England, I don't know what got into me, but I started to have silly crushes on boys at my school. For instance, there was one guy that I totally find him cute, his name is Ja-

A loud bang on my desk startled and shook me out of my thoughts. When I looked up, I see a very deep scowl on Mrs. Walter's face; a history teacher, at her forties, gray blonde hair that she always secures it in a tight bun, dull faded green eyes, shortie, moody, and if you ask, the most boring teacher I have encountered in my life and may I add, the cruelest.

"Daydreaming while I am teaching, Ms. Anderson?" she asked, the scowl still visible on her wrinkled face.

"You got the wrong impression Mrs. Walters, I was just trying to process in what you were teaching before you came up to me." I lied, pushing some of my hair behind my ear and staring away, wishing she would go away.

"Processing what I was teaching? That's impressive of you. So, can you stand up from your seat and present to the whole class a short summary of Prester John?"

Now, what did I tell you about this old demon freak?

I just stood up and folded my arms, saying nothing, and watching her with no absolute shame. Okay, what shall I say? I didn't even listen, let alone tell a story of.... Peter John?

"Well, it didn't seem that you were 'processing' what I was teaching. Don't you think it is better to have some thoughts on listening to your teacher while they are teaching in the detention room?" she asked.

"Nope, I think it is better to sit myself here even if it means to listen to your groggy old voice." I unexpectedly blurted out, and I immediately clamped my mouth with my hands, sitting down too. I am being too shameless today.

There were some 'ow's and 'ooh's from the class but they were silenced as soon as Mrs. Walters glared at them.

"Kate Anderson, detention room, now!!" Mrs. Walters practically yelled at me, her face reddining every second.

I think I did a good job, I mean, her face would be better red than pale, right?

But as soon as I met her icy glare, I abruptly stood from my seat, picked up my backpack and headed to the door.

As I was about to head out of the classroom, I bumped into something brick hard and stumbled backwards, falling on the ground.

In case you don't know, our school's floor concrete is hard as heck that I tried my best not to scream and howl in agony.

"Can you not see where the fuck you are going, what an idiotic clumsy." the person I bumped into literally barked on me with an American accent that has a hint of british.

What the hell? How can this dumbass that almost crushed me beneath him like a truck has the audacity to even talk like this to me?

"Well, it would be better if you could hold on your brakes asshole" I spat back.

He looks really handsome; hazel brown eyes, soft curly brown hair, sharp jawline, and his black t-shirt is clutched to his torso and abdomen, showing his fit and muscular body that I can see his packs.

How many are they? Two, four, fi-

"Like what you see? I do not mind taking off what is blocking your view." he said with smirk on his face.

My face flushed with embarrassment and quickly stood up from where I've fallen.

I think I need a massage or something else, this pain is unbearable.

"And who are you Mr...?" Mrs. Walters asked the guy.

"Harrington, Carter Harrington Mrs...?" asked Carter.

"Call me Mrs. Walters, so, what brought you here?"

A knock on the open doors interrupted and our principal, Mrs. McKellen, came in and walked to the front of the class.

"Good morning class, I am here to inform you that this boy over here will start learning in this school so please give Carter a warm welcome!" announced Mrs. McKellen.

Students clapped their hands and there were also little 'whoo's. I noticed some girls looking at him in a flirty way too.

Not even a minute that they knew his name... gosh, what a stupid sluts.

"Welcome, now please introduce yourself to the class" said Mrs. Walters.

Carter cleared his throat a bit, making his apple bop up and down, "Well, hi, as said before I am Carter Harrington and I came from Redsie high, as all of you are I am a senior, and I am done" like that he finished with his introduction.

What a great start, man.

"Thank you Carter, you can take a seat" said Mrs. Walters.

Principal McKellen smiled at Carter and when she was about to leave, she noticed me and gave me a confused look, "Kate, why are you standing here with your backpack ?" asked Mrs. McKellen, but before I could even respond,

"Ah, Ms. Anderson was about to give you a visit before you came Clara." answered the devil herself.

P. McKellen turned to me with an annoyed yet a glaring kind of face. Well, you can say that I has sometimes, 'sometimes', been sent to her office.

"Shall we?" She said and I nodded slowly.

I followed her out of the classroom and to her office, but with one thing in my head:

I wonder how that asshole's chest was that hard to make me stumble....?

~°~°~°~°~

S. A.