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Chapter 4- 'At Least One Of Us Is Getting Some Tonight.'

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Chapter 4- 'At Least One Of Us Is Getting Some Tonight.'

Aiden's Point Of View

Inspecting my reflection in the mirror, I poked and prodded my swollen black and blue forehead. I winced in pain. 

I was in my new bedroom in 24 Glaser Street, 5 and half hours away from my old home. And oh, how I hated it. I was stuck with my love-struck father, my trying-too-hard future step-mother and her scowling son. Fantastic. 

There was a short, hesitant knock on my door. 

"Aiden?" My tall father poked his head in to my room. 

"You can come in, Dad." I rolled my eyes, annoyed at him.

He sat down softly and the double bed sunk in from his weight.

My mother had abandoned us as soon as I turned 1 and we'd been alone ever since. 17 long and lonely years, it was just us, but now he'd met Helen. She was ok. I didn't really know her. They were both happy and I accepted that, unlike her son. I just didn't want to move. 

Dad patted the bed next to him, motioning for me to sit down. Instead I sat on a computer chair. Dad sighed. 

"Aiden. I know this is a big change and-" He started. 

"It's fine Dad. I'm a big boy. I can handle a new school." I assured him coldly. 

"It's not about that. I love Helen but you'll always come first. I just want you to know that." His murky grey eyes shone with genuine sincerity.

I sighed quietly. "I know Dad. I'm fine with you and Helen. I'm just tired. With packing and all." I murmured, pretending to act tired.

He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, then shut it again, deciding against the idea. Instead, he got up to leave the room.

"Ok son." He ruffled my hair, like he did when I was younger. His large, calloused hand stopped suddenly. 

"What happened to your head?" Dad asked, moving my head upwards so he could take a closer look. 

I scowled, remembering the painful incident. "Some blonde chick." I answered moodily, shrugging away from him. 

"A girl?" My dad asked incredulously, almost smirking. 

I glared at him. "Go away Dad." I retorted simply. He left the room chuckling heartily. 

I turned back to the mirror, examining my forehead, still scowling. The worst bit was I couldn't even remember what the girl looked like. All I could remember was her blonde hair. I was, however, reluctantly impressed by the force of her throw and of course her aim. I would never admit it, but I'm pretty sure I blacked out for a second, which would probably explain the slight amnesia.  

The biology book was still buried at the bottom of my school bag, untouched. Wanting to see the book, I retrieved my bag from the mass of cardboard boxes clogging my room and sank back into the black chair. I grabbed the book, pulling it out with difficulty. It was a very big book.  

'The complete and full nature of Biology'. How pretentious, I thought. I opened the worn book and looked at the first page. There was a name.  

Chanel Forte. Bow down to me.  

I smiled at the comment. Chanel Forte's handwriting was a loping slanted calligraphy style, like that of an autograph. However, below it was a blotchy, untidy scrawl.