I trudged myself downstairs and sat at the counter bar.
This was one of my mother's lame attempts to show that they "cared" and that I could always count on her. Oh please her extensions are more real than that.
"Avery,why aren't you dressed?" She asked with a scowl.
"Because I've come to realization that I could give a flying fuck about anything and anyone." I say returning the scowl.
"Now we don't need that language this early in the morning,"My brother walks in the room,kissing my cheek and I shoo him off.
"So when would be the appropriate to talk normally? Or maybe we can talk about how messed up I really am and not just push it to the side,AGAIN!" With that I stand up and go back to my room.
Why don't they understand that if maybe they helped a little more and I would be better. You can't fake emotion!
I rip open my closet door,throwing on a random shirt and skinny jeans. Looking in the mirror I realize how awful I I've again looked. My hair would never be as perfect as those girls,my skin not perfect,body not right. I just shove my hair into a messy bun grabbing my coat and bag,making sure I had my journal in case something scandalous happened to me. Which of course,it would not.
I stumble down the stairs about to open my door when my brother slams it before I go out.
I jump,"You're not skipping today,sweetheart. I'm driving you."
Crazy how I had no intention of skipping school on this spectacular Monday where everyone would talk about their wondrous Thanksgiving.
Snore.
"Hold your knickers,dipshit. I wasn't going to today."
"I'm still driving,let's go."
We climb into his silver Honda and I put my headphones in, The Fray blasting in my ears.
Once drive up to the school,I'm about to get out as he tugs on my arm.
"What?" I snap.
"We're trying,you know that?" I mumble an inaudible response,"God,you just make it so fucking hard to help!"
"Because nothing works! Have you EVER stopped to wonder WHY I'm like this? No. So don't give me a sob story. I don't fucking want it." I get out of the car and slam the door.
I walk into my school, glad that it's a few minutes before the morning rush so I can get to my locker without commotion. Once I'm at my locker, I take out my books for my morning classes and down the hall I see the principal with what looks like a new student.
I look out from the side of my locker, cautiously as I see the boy with the unruly curls, 'Hipsta Please' shirt, jeans,and converses. I sigh, typical huh? No one wants to be different around here.
I slam my locker,still in my trance, startling the boy and our principal. We lock eyes for a split second before I turn, trying to go unnoticed.
"Ms. Stone,will you come here for a second," Mrs. Ross,our principal's annoying voice rings out.
I stop in my tracks and sulkingly walk over to them.
"Yes Mrs. Ross?" I say trying to give my best I'm not thinking about killing you right now look.
"This is Harry Styles,he's new."
"I can tell," I cut her off, earning a smirk from Harry. I send him a glare.
"So, you will be in charge of showing him around."
I nearly choke on my own spit. I don't do good with people, I'm not an "interacter" and there's no way I'm showing this kid around! Everyone would stare and I am not in the mood for that.
"Now, Mrs. Ross, I can see where you may think that's a good idea buuuut, I can see how it's a very, very, very, bad idea. You know,with my condition and all?" I say, trying to get out of it.
"Well even with your condition it seems like you have no problem talking with humans---"
"That's because if I didn't respond to you, I'd be classified as "rude"."
"And you aren't now?"
There it is.
The first words I'd heard out of Harry's mouth.
To make me hate him even more he called me rude without even knowing me.
What an assclown.
"You don't know me. You don't get to say what I am or not,"I snap at him,"Now I'm sorry Mrs. Ross but I cannot do that."
"It's not an option it's final. I will make his schedule the same as yours. You'll show him to your first class. Which is?"
"French."
"Perfect! Well, I'll see you at the end of the day, Mr. Styles. Good luck." With that she saunters off, her heels clacking on the floor as the bell rings for the beginning of the day.
"Well, this'll be fun,"Harry says.
I look at him, and glare.
This is hell.
