Chapter Four

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A/N: HEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

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DAN'S POV

I blinked groggily, squinting into the morning light. Was it always this bright in the morning? I sat up, looking around my room. No, it definitely shouldn't be this bright. My head whipped around, my gaze landing on my alarm clock.

9:43

"Fuck!" I rolled out of bed, kicking off my duvet. How the hell did I sleep so late? I was supposed to be at school an hour and a half ago. And where was my mom, shouldn't she have woken me up?

Grumbling to myself, I grabbed a dirty pair of jeans off the floor, not bothering to change out of the Pink Floyd shirt I had slept in. I hobbled into the bathroom, struggling to pull my pants up. I caught a glimpse of myself as I grabbed my toothbrush and swore loudly. My hair was still curly from yesterday; there was no way I'd have time to straighten it.

Settling for second best, I grabbed an old grey beanie from the bottom of my closet.

I nearly fell down the stairs as I hurried into the kitchen, grabbing a granola bar out of the pantry. Scooping up my bag, I was about to leave when a white piece of paper on the table caught my attention. I shoved the granola in my back pocket and grabbed the note.

"Dan,

emergency at work, had to go in early. Have a good day at school,

-Mom xoxo"

I groaned, crumpling up the note and throwing it on the ground. I had obviously missed my bus, and I didn't have a car, so it looked like the only option I had left was to sprint the mile to school and hope to make it there as quickly as possible. This would be difficult as I have the stamina (or should I say damina) of a roly-poly; but nonetheless, I found myself jogging uncomfortably down the pavement towards school.

...

Roughly half an hour later, I found myself at the entrance of Mr. Allen's classroom (of course I made it just in time for maths, my least favorite subject).

I hesitated; being late would mean everyone would turn to look at me until I sat down. No one here had seen me with curly hair before, and I was certain someone would say something, I just hoped it wouldn't be in front of the whole class.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed my worries aside and stepped into class. Pretending I wasn't bothered by the twenty-something pairs of eyes on me, I shuffled toward my desk, dropping my bag on the ground and taking a seat. I could feel Phil's gaze on me, but I resisted the urge to look.

"Daniel, you're late." Mr. Allen pointed out, his usual deadpan expression flattening his mouth into a thin line.

"Brilliant observation, sir," I retorted. Anthony and a few other kids snickered.

Mr. Allen pursed his lips. "Watch your tone," He replied sternly, turning on his heel to walk back to his desk. I gave a dramatic eye roll to his comment, causing another round of laughter to break out in the class.

The smile fell from my lips as I glanced over at Phil. He had a large stain on his shirt, some sort of fruit preservative, I guessed, much like the ones the school served at breakfast. I glanced at Anthony, who just smirked, then stared back down at my paper.

There would come a time when I would have to choose between keeping my current life or standing up to Anthony. I wanted things to stay the way they were, but the safe space I had made for myself was beginning to crumble, and Phil wasn't helping. How was I supposed to leave things as they were when he kept making me feel like everything my friends did was my responsibility? It's not my fault they're assholes.

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