Skipping Beats

Chapter 3

I woke up to my buzzing alarm clock. I tried to be as still as possible hoping that the incredibly horrid noise would go away, but none the less it continued to repeatedly beep until I felt like throwing the stupid thing across my room.

I let a heavy sigh out and crawled out of my bed. I plopped onto the floor and rolled around trying to stretch out my stiff muscles.

Feeling a little more awake I heaved myself off the floor and drug myself into the kitchen. I am nothing until I have my coffee in the morning. Of course I doctor the crap out of my coffee every morning until it is a light brown shade and is as sweet as syrup: my theory is the more the sugar, the more I have a chance of actually having a good mood in the morning.

I start downing the coffee savoring every drop until I am startled by a hand that rests on my shoulder. I scream and drop my coffee cup making it shatter and scatter the clay pieces all over the floor.

I whip around to find my mom with wide eyes and both of her hands up. I instantly feel bad, "Mom! Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry! I didn't know that was you."

I crouch down and start picking up the pieces on the floor, when my mom scoops me up, "Honey, its okay. Don't worry I'll clean this up, you go and start getting ready."

I start to refuse and I am answered with a hand guiding me towards the stairs. I give her a reluctant look, and start to climb them.

My mom has been worrying me a lot lately, she is trying to act normal, but I can see that it is only making things worse for her. She has been very quiet and has not smiled in a long time. Things have been hard lately for her and it's just not fair.

All of her happiness taken away by a merciless man who wanted to feel "power", but he just made a fool out of himself. My dad is now with another woman, a woman that is 20 years younger than him to be exact.

The reason why he left was because people were finally starting to catch on to what he was doing to us. I would come to school with bruises on my arms and legs, and people were realizing that the stories I made up as excuses for the wounds were fake.

I look down at my leg to see the remains of a bruise left by him, specifically his steel toe boot. It has been three weeks now. I'm just glad he is gone. My mother is still scarred from the whole experience.

I start to become sick while thinking of all he has done to our family. I open the door to my room and head to my closet. I find a big sweater that my mom gave me a while ago. It is maroon and has a really loose fit on me, but I like it because she gave it to me when we were happy. Before my father went power crazy and became a drunk.

I yank it off the hanger and pull it over my head. This makes my frizzy hair get even frizzier with static and I sigh. What am I going to do with it today?

I walk over to the mirror in the corner of my room and start grabbing the random products off of the shelve next to it. I decide to pick the one that states it has "Maximum Hold" deciding that my hair is going to need it today.

I pour a lot more than the recommended amount and start working it through my hair. I look in the mirror after I'm done and hope to myself that my hair stays where it's at.

I continue with my morning routine and I am fixing to walk out the door with my bag when I yell back into the house "Love you mom! Have a good day!" I hear a faint "You too." and start to make my way to my old beat up car.

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I pull into the parking lot and start to look for my usual spot when I see a black Lamborghini sitting in the exact spot where I should be parking my dinged up car. I sit there in shock and mutter "Okay...not good."

I could not find any extra spot except for the one that sits in the very back of the parking lot. I shimmy out of my car and slam the door, most definitely not in the mood for today's obstacles. I yank my cello out of the back of my car and start my hideously long trek to the front doors.

After I make it to the doors I dive in thinking that both of my hands have frost-bite, all of this because some stupid person stuck there stupid car in my stupid parking spot. I can already tell today is not going to be a good day.

After symphony practice I'm walking down the hallway with Brandon to my next class. I start to tell him about the "adventure" I had this morning when Mads comes up and hip bumps me causing me to slam into Brandon.

"Oops! Sorry! I didn't mean to do it that hard." I glare at her already not in a good mood when Brandon starts to laugh. I glare at him too, while waiting for both of them to control themselves.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry." Brandon manages through his snickers and I let out a big sigh and say "Annnyywayyy...., I was trying to tell you what happened today."

"Oh right! What were you saying?" Brandon says while making his way back to my side.

"I was saying, how this morning a big fat jerk parked his car in MY spot. My parking spot! I mean who does that?"

They both sit there and stare at me. "What?"

Brandon starts to put his hands up like he is talking to a child who just threw a tantrum. "You know Ella your name is not permanently engraved in that parking spot right?"

I stare at him, mouth agape, and yell "I had to park in the back and walk all the way up here!"

They both start laughing and once again my mouth falls wide open. "It's funny to you because you didn't have to walk all the way up here and experience a mild degree of frost bite!"

"Ok fine it might be a little rude, but honestly Ella it's not that big of a deal."

"Fine, but still it's upsetting."

Brandon butts in with a "Sorry?" and I start to laugh.

"Whatever losers I've got Anatomy!" They both start laughing and say their goodbyes.

I walk into the classroom and sit down in my usual seat in the back. I like it in the back because it's pretty empty; I find it easier to focus when I am secluded. I pull out my bag and grab my pencil trying to get ready for the class.

The bell rings and Mr. Hamery steps up to the front of the room. Mr. Hamery is one of my favorite teachers; he always understands and never gets upset. "Class open your books to page 394."

He starts to say something else when he is interrupted with a knock at the door. He tells the student closest to the door to open it. I keep my head down while trying to find the page Mr. Hamery told us to go to, not really interested in what is going on.

I hear a quiet conversation and then Mr. Hamery clears his throat and says "Class meet your new student, Luke Hayworth. My head snaps up and for the third time today my mouth drops wide open.

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I know! I'm sorry! I just had to put in a cliff hanger! I'll try to update as soon as possible! Thank you for reading!

-kaitlyn