So What? (A Conor Maynard Fan/Pop Fiction)

Chapter 6 - Emotions

Louise's POV

"Conor?" I repeated.

"Yes, he brought you in. Don't ask me why or anything, I was eating until the door bust open and there you were..." He smiled.

"I've got to go and say thank you!" I said, a small smile appearing. I stood up, thanking Mr Gregory for his time before walking out of the room and down the hallway. As I walked past my locker, I saw Ross standing at his with his phone in his hand. Part of me wanted to smack the phone out of his hand and tell him he was useless but the other part wanted to do what Mr Gregory had suggested.

"You alright?" I tried to make conversation. His eyes didn't move from the screen of his phone and he continued to tap the keypad. "Ross? I said 'You Alright?'" Again nothing was said. "This is pointless..." I mumbled under my breath.

"Yes it is." He mumbled back, finally looking up. His eyes screamed anger and frustration. "Maybe you should go back and talk to your best friend, Conor." He looked back down at his phone.

"Look, I'm sorry for earlier... There's a lot of stuff-" I began, ready to pour my heart out then and there.

"Not. Interested." He spat. "I don't care about you or your life any more Louise. I have better friends now..." His words cutting like knives, I felt my self-confidence fading with every word. Who else did I have? No-one. My mouth went dry and my stomach dropped.

"But... I... We..." I stammered. I couldn't think of anything worth saying.

"Just go." He hissed.

"What the hell is your problem?" I raised my voice.

"You!" He said simply. "You're acting up just to get noticed by a guy and it's stupid! Why can't you just accept that you won't ever be popular and be yourself?" He raised his eyebrows.

"I think that's more your thing. You're just jealous that people are finally starting to notice me!" I shook my head. "Maybe if you spent more time being half decent, people might actually like you!" I shrugged.

"Me? At least I'm not going around punching people." He looked me up and down slowly with an expression of disgust.

"I only punch people that deserve it..." I said, squaring up to him. "Like you."

"Please. I'm happy for you to punch me, then you'll get expelled and I won't have to see you any more! I'll have a party."

I looked back down at the floor, chin quivering. There it was, the one thing I'd feared would happen for years has just happened. I'd lost my dad and the only other man I was close to, my best friend. My mum and sister were close but I was always closer to my dad. We talked about motorbikes, he took me on the back of his and we always had a laugh as we sat watching late night action films. I'm pretty sure I'd seen every Jackie Chan film before I was 15. Either way, when he died, I couldn't get over it. It seemed like my mum and sister were unaffected by it acting the opposite to me. The thoughts flooding back again, I knew there was only one place I could be. I pushed past everyone and walked out of the school, running home.

I slammed the door closed as I got in, the smell of casserole filling my nostrils and somehow making me feel a little better.

"School finished already, dear?" My mum called from the kitchen, sarcastically.

"No..." I said, knowing she was going to shout at me at some point today. I heard the utensils slam against the counter and footsteps getting closer until she was in the hallway.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! Why can't you just go to school and NOT punch someone in the face?" She shouted at me.

"People annoy me." I shrugged. "Not my fault."

"No. It's not YOUR fault that YOU punched someone in the face!" She mimicked me. "Ridiculous..." She shook her head.

"If someone starts it, I finish it. A guy threw mud in my face and punched me but I got done for punching him back!" I attempted to justify my actions.

"You shouldn't have punched him then!" She shrugged. "They told me you had some three strikes rule? And you have to do extra classes?"

"Yeah. I only have one strike at the moment..." I rolled my eyes at my mother's angered expression. I couldn't ever do anything right by her. "I can't be bothered. I'm going to my room." I said nonchalantly as I walked past her and up the stairs to my room.

Jumping onto my bed and laying on top of the covers, I felt a sudden overwhelming feeling of comfort and happiness as the smell of clean linen tingling my senses. I stared up at the ceiling, following the edges of it down to the wall. How did it come to this? What did I do to have this amount of bad luck?

"You'd better come down here and apologise to me, Louise!" My mum shouted up the stairs. "If you're school call me again I'm going to flip my lid!"

"Whatever!" I shouted back. "Dad always taught me to stick up for myself instead of being a little pussy like you!" I could hear stomping up the stairs and darted for my door, locking it just in time.

"Let me in here, you little shit!" My mother so politely asked me. She's been like this for a while. "You just wait; I'll wring your neck! Why couldn't you just be normal like your sister?"

"Because I actually cared about dad and it actually affected me!" I shouted through the door, punching it as more tears rolled down my face. How did my day end up like this? Earlier today I was getting butterflies because me and Conor were in the same room, because we spoke at the time, because he held my hand to help me up. Now I'm back in the life I can avoid when I'm at school.

"We did care!" My mum said simply. "We all did..." Her voice became softer and more broken. "We just tried our best to keep it together for the family." I could hear her slowly walk into her room and shut the door, locking it behind her. Is that what it's been? They've been coping but I haven't? Has all my fighting just been to try and channel my emotions?

"I cared too..." I mumbled to myself. "I still care..."