Flawed

1

Chapter One

Unsurprising Complications

       “LET’S JUST SAY HER PERSONALITY IS… a bit too, well, strong for this school,” said the principal, Mrs Daly carefully, the euphemism flying out of her mouth without discretion. Her wrinkles pressed fervently into her mouth and eyelids, her black hair in a greying bob to her shoulders. Along with a bit of oxygen, tension hovered painfully in the air of the cramped principal’s office.

      Mum’s lips were pressed tight together as she nodded. “A personality too strong. Got it.” The pissed off sarcasm was heavy in her voice, but it flew right over Mrs Daly’s head- which is a bit of a joke, since she is six foot one or something like that.

      Mum’s hair was a flurry of blonde and auburn and black. Her pale green eyes pierced into Mrs Daly’s and didn’t leave them until I exploded, finally moving into the conversation when silence blessed it.

      “I’m expelled!” I moved forward angrily, slamming my hands down on Mrs Daly’s cluttered desk. “Expelled? For a lunchtime mishap that everyone has forgotten about? You-”

      My rage was doubling, quadrupling, actually, which is what it does, according to my psychiatrist. I saw Mum’s hand reaching out to calm me down, but I stopped before she had to say my name and tell me to count to ten. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

      1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8…

      “Willow, you said that Ruby Underdale was a slimy lizard, and then you placed one in her food claiming she was a cannibal,” said Mrs Daly in that conscientious tone that made me almost reach over and strangle her. “Not to mention your undeniable rule defiance- clothing and accessories especially.”

      I realised I hadn’t even opened my eyes. When I did, I saw my hands were splayed, centimetres away from her neck. I sharply took a breath and leaned back into my chair.

      “Oh God, I didn’t mean to…” My voice wasn’t even heard by Mrs Daly. Her eyes immediately swam with anger, the blackness of them freezing over.

      “Do you understand why we can’t have this animal of a child at our school? At just fourteen years old, she-”

      Mum’s eyes froze to minus seven degrees, beating the principal’s and cutting her short. Mrs Daly appeared flustered as she tore her eyes away and shuffled some paper.

      “That is my child sitting over there,” Mum said calmly, looking at Mrs Daly with a look that expressed a desire to cut her days short. Right here. Right now. Mum started to stand up. Her eyes were filled with rage, and I sat up abruptly beside her.

      “Damn you, Belinda,” my mother hissed. Mrs Daly-or should I say Belinda- paled.

      “I prefer Mrs Daly…” she said in an inaudible voice, but Mum was leaving. She stormed through the office, a blur of anger, and I followed. We got questioning, concerned looks from the receptionist, and even a kid sitting in the waiting room, with dreadlocks and muddy knees, looked at us funny. Mum didn’t see any of it, or chose to ignore it.

      When we reached the car park she pressed down so hard on her car key it almost broke. I opened the door to the passenger seat and sat, waiting for Mum to stop swearing and finally open the door, which had been jammed ever since I was small enough to fit in our tiny boot. The Volks Wagen buggy fit two people and two only. It was orange, yellow, and pink.

      She yanked the door open and fell into the driver’s seat. She stationed her hands on the steering wheel, but didn’t start the car.

      “Oh, Mum, please don’t…” I said, trying to avoid looking at her face, ready for a lecture.