Nice Nice

1. NICE NICE

"Listen to me Zoey, you must NEVER, and I mean never, go out where it's cold. The cold will hurt you" an older woman squats down to the floor, both hands on a little girls arms. The 6 year old pouts her lips

"Why mummy! I just wanna build a snowman! And! And! Catch snowflakes with the tounge!"  The little girls tear ducts form a crystal bead before it slides down her chilly cheek.

10 Years Later

I am Zoey Takami.

I am a exchange student at Cards High School in the Americas. I moved here just a week ago for London Brighton because my foster parents decided it would be better for my mental health.

Rinngggg!!

Suddenly students burst into a chatter and rush out of the door. Most almost trampling over me. I walk out to my locker. Pulling my sleeve over my fingers before I scroll through the numbers on my lock.

I creek open my locker.

And suddenly the light is completely blocked from my view. It was Lucas Jackson He was a hockey player, and a foot ball player. However would I know you ask? He's always going on and on about his practices when I am around him. Almost as if I'm a living trash can, throwing his useless information and rants into my brain, as if I'm gonna remember anything.

He was pretty, and tall ig. He was popular. And I kinda was too. But only bc he would be around me so much. I didn't like him or anything. He was just a friend. Nothing more. He was really m only friend. He was my assigned locker partner.

"Hey shorty" he cups his hand around the back of my head, pushing me forward slightly.

"Hello, lucas" my head bounced back to its normal spot. As he removed his hand. He grabbed something from his locker, putting it in his backpack before zipping it up and throwing his bag on. I just put my folder and pencil away into my little cubby and took off with my bag. I started walking towards my way out. I quickly glanced behind me to see if lucas was gonna follow me today. Nope. Apparently not.

I was sorta disappointed but I didn't really care. He's just a guy. I pulled my phone out from my pocket. Just to hold something in my hand. I pick up my pace as I go down a flight of stairs, quickly turning then bolting out the exit. Entering my bus the driver greets me with a glare. And not a very welcoming one.

Esh.

As I'm walking to my seat at the back of the bus I unlock my phone. Opening a text from my foster mom. Sarah. Oh I guess I should get into why I have foster parents, but I'll do that in a second.

Hey Zoey, me and Joel are wondering if you would like to go to the ice rink after you come back from school this evening, your therapist said it would be good growth for you.

The message read.

I'll answer her at home. I really don't wanna do it.

My birth mom almost went insane after my dad left her. My mom would neglect my personal needs. And often psychically abuse me. She would tuant me about the cold for fun. And she would shelter me away from it.

So it I never really felt cold. And I'm scared of the cold in general.

My father left before I was born, I had a brother. But he killed himself when he was 10 and I was 5, so I don't remember him much. Other then he had black hair, amber eyes and a big nose. And that his voice scared me. It's was kinda deep for his age.