chapter 1 ~E~

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Ella’s POV

I shot up, sweaty and panting, fighting against the nightmare of my memory. Gradually, my erratic heart beat slowed and I ran my hands through my brown, wavy locks.

Sighing I stood to my feet and walked to my dresser and pulled out my favorite black skinny jeans, turquoise plaid shirt, and an orange, lace spaghetti strap. Taking them with me, I pad softly down the hallway to the bathroom, close the door and start the shower.

When I finish washing, I carefully pull on my clothes, taking care that the cuts on my legs don’t open back up. I put on the little makeup I have left before sneaking down the stairs to start making breakfast for my foster family and myself.

I glanced at the clock to my right when I heard Caleb’s footsteps coming down the stairs towards the kitchen. Knowing he was drawn by the smell of the stuffed breakfast bell peppers that were just finishing up, I pulled out a plate and place the biggest bell pepper on top, adding toppings as I went. By the time he walked into the room, his breakfast sat in his spot at the table.

Looking at me sympathetically, he sat down to eat. After moaning through his first bite in happiness, he finally asked what I knew was coming: “another nightmare? What time did it wake you up tonight?”

Keeping my gaze on the small sunny-side up egg on my plate, I replied, “woke up at 5 this time. Did I wake you up?”

He looked at me for a few moments before “I heard the shower. Didn’t want to interrupt your time.”

I nod, then grab both of our now spotless plates and put them into the dishwasher to be cleaned. Meanwhile, Caleb grabbed the two sets of keys and the two backpacks on the couch. Walking out the door, he hands me my stuff as we nod good-bye to each other before walking to our vehicles of choice: his a black 2011 Jeep Wrangler and mine a Honda CBR125R motorcycle.

 ~E~

Taking  my seat at the back of the classroom, I pull my headphones over my head and allow the beautiful beats of Linkin Park’s Burn it Down begin to unravel the knots in my back. I watch as students sit down and Mr. Marks sits at his computer to take attendance. When he hits my name, he glances at me and scowls, motioning for me to remove the music from my ears and pay attention.

Rolling my eyes I do as he asks when the door opens, revealing a boy my age with curly, blonde hair and beautiful brown eyes, he saunters up to Marks and they begin a muttered conversation and every once in a while, I notice the boy glancing my way.

Suddenly Marks speaks up. “Girls, boys, and those having identity crises! We have a new student today. Please make him feel welcome. If you would like to tell us a little bit about yourself?”

Glancing again in my direction, he begins, “Hello everyone. My name is Blake Lupos. I’m eighteen. Um….. I was born in Spain but my dad and I have moved around a lot so…. Um… yeah….” He grinned at the class.

And of course, in the clichéd way, Marks sends the new boy to sit in the seat next to me, the loner girl. Great. This is going to be the best day ever. Please remember to note the sarcasm.

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