The Punk Rocker

School's in.

Evie Starr was just your regular bubbly girly girl with her makeup and pink dresses, or so everyone thought, and Evie was very eager to keep it that way. She was 17, her birthday being near the end of the year meant that almost everyone else turned 18 a long time before she did.

On the first day of year 12, Evie awoke as usual to her father's screaming.

"Get the fuck up, you have school!"

"Coming, dad!" She shouted back, voice thick with drowsiness.

"HURRY UP!" she flinched at his shouting. She jumped up out of bed. Her room was very pink. Pink bed covers, dresser, bedside tables, rug and curtains. Pink was her favourite colour.

She threw on her school uniform; a white blouse and black knee length skirt, and a silver bracelet; the only memory of her mother she had left after she left her and her father when she was 3, then Evie trotted downstairs.

"How long does it take you to get out of bed?!" Her father yelled, back handing her and sending her slender 5'8" build sprawling to the linoleum floor with a painful 'thud'. She still felt the sting of his hand as she gazed up at him in fear. A single tear tracked down her face and she said quietly,

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry dad!"

"You should be."

Once she was ready for school and the new mark on her face was well covered with makeup, Evie picked up her backpack and made her way out the door to the bus stop. Her life was relatively good apart from the fact that her mother was absent and she had an abusive father. She was starting year twelve and had passed the previous year with flying colours, she had heaps of friends, nobody had anything against her and she was a happy, bubbly girl who could make friends with anyone. She stood before the dingy bus shelter, its yellowing walls and rusted metal bench seat in grave need of a scrub. The neighbour's children were young, both of them in primary school, but their mother kept them in check at the bus stop and on the bus Evie sat at the opposite end, so the fact that she couldn't socialise with small children properly was never an issue.

As Evie stood on the pavements, little black leather slip on shoes shuffling idly against the dull grey concrete of the footpath, there was an odd scraping noise like scooter wheels on concrete coming from her right, which she ignored, staring down at her white socks and little black shoes. The noise grew louder, and her blonde hair was swept up in a cool breeze as she looked up just in time to see a boy on a skateboard skidding to a stop just two metres away on the footpath. He was very tall, standing at approximately six feet, maybe taller, had shoulder length teased blonde hair and wore dark jeans, black converse shoes and a leather jacket. Evie stared up at him. He was oddly attractive to her, but she didn't much like his fashion sense.

"Hi." He greeted in a voice that sent wonderful shivers down her spine.

"H-hello..." she stuttered slightly, his warm chocolate coloured eyes flicked down her body, then up again.

"This the stop for Sommer high?" He asked, glancing at the run down bus shelter and the primary schoolers. Evie cleared her throat and straightened her skirt,

"Uh- yes, yes it is. I'm Evie " she stuck out her hand to shake, he grasped it, and Evie's heart rate picked up, skaking it, the boy smiled. His smile made Evie melt,

"Michael Joy, at your service." He responded. She noticed a navy blue strip of fabric tied about his wrist as his jacket sleeve rode up slightly, and squinted at it. Michael cleared his throat and tugged the sleeve of his leather jacket over it.

"What's that?" She questioned, curious.

"A piece of cloth." He told her,

"Why is it around your wrist?" She asked him,