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"Get away from me you fucking freak!" Leah screeched, almost resembling that of a banshee.
She used both of her hands to push me back into my locker by my shoulders, whilst I only laughed at her feeble attempts to intimidate me, which only caused her to become more violent.
She slapped me across my face, causing my whole body to turn on impact. I turned back around clutching my now throbbing cheek with my mouth agape. Although the shock didn't last long, I quickly shoved her causing her to take a few steps back, almost loosing balance.
Her friends gasped, some looked at me with utter disgust whilst others attempted to console her, deliberating that the fight was over. She pushed off her helping hands and walked back towards me, an even more furious expression on her face.
She once again pushed me into my locker, how original.
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" She yelled, furrowing her eyebrows and crossing her arms. I took one step forwards and used my entire palm to push her face backwards, she finally fell on her ass.
"I'm (Y/N) fucking (L/N). Who the fuck are you?" I yelled, towering over her.
Before anyone could react, I felt a sudden grip on my wrist and I was violently dragged sideways and out of the large crowd.
"This kind of behaviour is not acceptable at Westfield High Miss (L/N)!" A teacher yelled, still dragging me away from the fight scene.
//
"The other girl better look worse than you do." My mom stated, shutting the front door behind us as Id been sent home from school.
I didn't reply, only stomped up the stairs into my new bedroom and slammed the door behind me. I wasn't angry at my mom, only angry at the situation. That bitch Leah had made a total fucking idiot out of me on the first day of high school for merely smoking a cigarette.
I walked over to my mirror to assess the damage. There was a minor cut on my severely reddened cheek but that was about it.
I sighed and threw myself onto my messy bed, causing the mattress to spring up at my sudden body weight. I lay there for a second before turning over to my side to find some music to play from my phone.
I settled on 'art deco' by Lana Del Rey, before I got up, opened a window and lit a cigarette.
"You got any Kurt Cobain and that thing?" A voice asked. I jumped up with a yelp and turned around to face the source of the voice.
I met the eyes of a boy around the same age as me, maybe slightly older. He was dressed in an oversized greenish v-necked sweater with a striped shirt underneath and a pair of beige baggy chinos.
"Who are y- How did you get into my house?"
"I'm one of your dads patients." He answered simply, smiling slightly.
Feeling more at ease, I took a drag of the cigarette then blew the smoke out the window before scrunching the tip into the wall outside.
"So, you got any Kurt Cobain on that thing? You know, Nirvana?" He asked again, acting as if I didn't know who he was.
"Are you kidding? I have everything." I answered, flicking the partially smoked cigarette out the window and walking over to my phone.
I began to play 'Dumb' and turned around to capture his reaction. He smiled, but seemed slightly confused at the use of my phone.
"How'd you get that cut?" He asked, walking towards me.
"Some bitch at school."
"Westfield right? The worst. I got thrown out of there." He stated, I was slightly disappointed at this information, because it meant I would literally have no friends at school.
"I hate it here, East Coast was much cooler."
"Why'd you move here anyway?" He asked, sitting towards the end of my bed and taking in the chosen decor in my bedroom.
"My dad had an affair." I answered.
"That's horrible, if you love someone you should never hurt them." He stated, in a strangely reminiscent tone.
He turned his whole body so that he was fully sat on my bed and then used both of his hands to grab my wrist and caressed it. Gliding along the lines of scars silently.
"I'm sorry." He said in a sullen tone, tearing away his eyes from my wrists to meet my face.
I moved my hand away and got up, my wrist still tingling at the sensation of touch other than my own.
"Why are you seeing my dad?" I asked, changing the subject as I turned around to fiddle with random objects on my desk.
"Don't ask questions you already know the answer to." He said in a slightly angry tone. I didn't know why he was seeing my dad but so decided not to pry.
"What would you like to listen to?" I asked, considering I could hear the song coming to an end.
"What are you doing in here?" I heard my dad ask in a strict tone, his body emerging into my doorframe.
"Just listening to music dad." I answered plainly, putting down the pen i'd had in my hand and turning to face him.
"You need to leave Tate, I'm sorry you shouldn't be in here and I think you know that." He instructed, standing out the way of the door and gesturing for him to get out. Tate quickly jumped out and walked towards my dad.
"What's that thing you think I'm afraid of? Fear of rejection?" He asked, I could my see my dads face contort into an even more aggravated one. Before receiving an answer, Tate walked out and towards the stairs.
I could hear him running down them, the wood echoing every step he took until finally reaching the bottom where he let out a yell, a few profanities and a harsh punch to the wall.
"You stay away from him." My dad said through gritted teeth.
