Mend a Broken Heart

Chapter 2 - Here Comes Trouble

"Lola! I made you toast!" Mum exclaimed as I came down the stairs. She was acting suspiciously, all giggly and weird like she was drunk. It wouldn't be a surprise if she was drunk. It was like time didn't mean anything to her. Sometimes she would drink in the morning and sleep during the day, and then she'd get up and go partying all night. I glanced over at the toast she was made, although it didn't resemble toast at all. It hadn't been toasted, and so it was just a slice of bread with a mound of butter on top. I was surprised we actually had butter in the house.

"No thank you," I sighed, swinging open the fridge to see what I could eat for breakfast. The fridge was practically empty. There was a half-empty carton of milk, but it was out of date a week ago. There was butter, but nothing to have it on seeing as Mum used the last slice of bread, and I didn't fancy eating butter straight from the tub.

"Oh come on. I worked hard on this!" She whined, stamping her foot like a five year old. She drove me insane sometimes. The sooner I left school, the sooner I could get a job and get my own place. I wasn't sure if I ever wanted kids in the future, but if it did happen then I vowed not to be like my own mother. I slammed the fridge door shut and went over to the sofa, where Mum's bag was sitting. I looked over to make sure she wasn't looking, and found she was trying to secretly chug a whole bottle of wine. I never knew why she tried to hide it from me, because it was always blindingly obvious. Mum was the complete opposite of subtle. I quickly reached into her bag and pulled out her purse. After checking again that she wasn't looking, I swiped a £10 note from the purse, before quickly stuffing it back into her bag where she left it. The money went into my blazer pocket before she even looked in my direction. I used to feel guilty about stealing her money, but after a while I realised I didn't really have a choice. It was either steal or starve, and Mum never noticed when I took money anyway.

I arrived at school ten minutes late, as I had to stop off at the supermarket to buy food. I'd managed to buy a Tesco meal deal for my lunch, which luckily came to only £3, so I still had some money left over to go back in after school and buy more food to stock up on. My only other option would be to eat whatever cold takeaway Mum brought home after clubbing. That day I was just not in the mood. Bolton was hanging around constantly, and I was starting to regret choosing to break his heart. I should've gone for someone less clingy. He had his arm around me the whole time I ate my lunch, and it was driving me up the wall. I made up an excuse that I had to go to the toilet, but instead I decided to ditch last period. I couldn't make it out the school gates because there were teachers supervising, and so I hid in the bin shed instead. Disgusting, I know, but it was either that or be smothered by Bolton. I suppose I should've been flattered that he liked me so much, but it was getting exhausting to pretend to like him back. The bell went, and thankfully nobody noticed me sitting there. Once the teachers had gone inside, I stood up and dusted myself off, ready to leave. However, I caught sight of something sitting across from me. A spray paint canister. A light bulb lit up in my head. If I got myself excluded yet again, I'd never have to see Bolton again. Plus, I'd break my record of shortest time at a school. I picked up the can and shook it to check if it had been used, and it didn't sound like it had. The doorway to the kitchens was open, but when I peeked inside the dinner ladies were working hard cleaning up, and so I didn't think I'd get caught.

However, halfway through spray painting the letters 'BS' onto the wall, I heard someone clear their throat behind me. I turned around to see Candice, Bolton's mum, standing there with her arms folded. Whoops, I thought, guess she doesn't think I'm sweet anymore. Oh well, this could work in my favour.

"And what are you doing?" She frowned. I thought about making up a lie, but I knew better. She would see straight through my lies, because I was dating her son and mother's always know when something isn't right. I took the spray can out from behind my back and smirked.

"Spray painting Bolton's initials onto the wall," I shrugged, and I had to try hard not to laugh at the expression on her face. She was so obviously disgusted by me, which wasn't a surprise. Everybody was disappointed or horrified by me at some point. I was used to it by now. It was funny. Candice scoffed and unfolded her arms, coming closer to me.

"You better not do anything to hurt my son," She warned, her expression changing from disgusted to fuming in less than a second.

"Or what?" I snapped, folding my arms to try and square up to her. Believe it or not, I was having fun. Getting into trouble was exciting, exhilirating.

"You know, I used to think you were a nice girl. But now I've seen your true colours. Stay away from Bolton, or else. You're a disgusting piece of work," She hissed, before going back into the kitchen. I rolled my eyes and stuck my middle finger up behind her back. She couldn't tell me what to do. Maybe she could do me a favour and put Bolton off me. Or she could even tell Miss Mason that I'd painted some graffiti and get me excluded. Either way, she'd be saving me a whole lot of work.

I decided that going back to class and strolling in 20 minutes late was an easier way to get in trouble than bunking off completely, as just ditching might slip under the radar. I needed these teachers to know that I was causing trouble, and that I enjoyed it. I strolled into Miss Haydock's French lesson as she was talking. She went silent as soon as she was me. Everybody stared as I slowly sauntered off to my seat, and I loved the attention.

"What time do you call this?" Miss Haydock asked, as I put my bag on an empty table at the back and sat down.

"Um..." I thought, checking the time on my phone, "2:20." A few people sniggered, and Miss Haydock looked unimpressed, which was a very good start. If I kept this up, maybe she'd send me to the headteacher's office. Maybe if I was insolent enough.

"Why are you so late?" She continued.

"Too busy spray painting the wall outside," I smirked, leaning back in my chair to show these people that I didn't care less what they thought about me. There were another few laughs. Miss Haydock sighed and walked over to where I was sitting. It was obvious that she didn't want me in her class.

"Are you mad?" Lauren said sarcastically, "You've just dobbed yourself in!"

"Yep, that's the point," I agreed, and she shook her head at me in disbelief. Mad? No, I just knew exactly what I wanted and exactly how to get it.